A few days later Regina held a lecture to an auditorium full of enthusiastic students. When on leave from rotation, high-ranking fleet officers were requested to lend their field experience to future fleet personnel through lecture/discussions. Topics ranged from leadership, ethics, non-humanoid/humanoid inter-relationships, foreign political structures, and the like. No matter what area of fleet life was discussed, the hallmark of the academy's teaching system was preparing new graduates for the realities of space travel.
Although Admiral Hopper always asked out of the goodness of his heart, Regina knew it was far from a simple request. She had an understanding of how these lectures proceeded, but hadn't 'found the time' to pull her weight in the academic arena in some while. After two years of evading her superior's kindly wishes, Regina was running out of excuses.
That day, Regina had low expectations for her lecture "Women in Cosmofleet." At first she didn't think her notes would attract that many students, but the captain had vastly underestimated the current climate in gender studies. The academy was turning out more female cadets every term with a 20 percent increase in women applying per semester. Statistics were one thing, but to have a body of eager young women filter into her lecture hall and participate in lively discussion perked Regina up.
A roar of applause bounced off the auditorium's high, soundproof walls and reached Regina's ears with decadence. Standing at the podium, she took a moment for admiration to wash over her. Every once and while it was nice to get recognition. She didn't get this very often, this kind of personal acknowledgement, because her job took her away from it. She'd hear of herself in the news holos and read about her interstellar exploits in a cadet's thesis, but rarely was she allowed the time or be in the right place to soak it in first hand.
Regina used the lingering applause to make her exit. This was the part she hated. If she didn't move fast enough a stampede of overzealous fans would corner her into signing their uniform caps or plead with her to tell her whole life story right then and there. Really, someone should have drawn a line at the 'meet and greet.' After a three hour long lecture it was the very last thing in the universe Regina had patience for.
As usual, Regina bypassed the 'autograph table' and slipped out the back before the oncoming rush trapped her. She gave a disgusted click of her tongue. They swarmed like a colony of Varma bats. As much as she liked to believe these students came for the stellar advice and rich storytelling, it was anything but. Their number one priority didn't include a lesson in ethics and protocol. All they cared about was shaking her damn hand so they could tell their friends they met the great Regina Mills. While her ever-rising prestige never failed to bring a spring in her step, she'd rather not come in contact with any eager limbs, lips, or requests for letters of recommendation. She grimaced at the late memory of one anxious student who had the gall to plant her unsanitary mouth on the good captain's cheek.
Regina stalked out the back door and stayed on guard until she heard the satisfying click of the door sealing shut (the gaggle of fangirls and fanboys dejectedly snubbed from the other side).
"Never again," she muttered for the seventh and (hopefully) final time of her career.
At five o'clock the sun was beginning its dip behind the Presidio's vast landscape of skyscrapers. The air carried with it a biting chill and Regina tied the belt of her trench coat tighter. Her black, knee-length coat wrapped comfortably around her body and concealed her uniform from passersby. She meant to travel outside the buzz of elitist pride and wealth for the humdrum of the suburbs.
Where anonymity was crucial inside the circle of embassies and government officers, outside was a different matter. Despite her well-known reputation, she knew from experience the suburbs wouldn't notice. Normal folk didn't care about Presidio execs. They barely acknowledged their presence to one another on either side of the fence.
It only took a short ten minute cab ride to reach a place of memory. Regina walked down a sidewalk of one of the quaint squares. The streets were not glamorous but charming in a rustic sort of way. She passed boulangeries and butcheries, coffee and tea sellers, print shops and bookshops, antique nooks and toy store corners, and vintage clothing sprees. Their transparisteel entryways were sparkling enough for her to do some passing window shopping.
It thrilled Regina to be able to sight see without having to resort to a map. She could enjoy the smells of the shops and the flapping pages of books for sale, scan the chalkboard à la cartes for specials, anything at her leisure. Her enjoyment wouldn't have been possible without the familiarity that came with it. The fact, however, that she didn't have anyone to share it with posed little gratification in the long run.
Surrounded by Old World brick and charm, Regina felt something heavy within her chest plummet like a meteor. Being in the suburbs again was a shock to her system. She had no reason to return here, not for two years. Since Emma resigned, Regina made a point not to stay on Earth too long, and when she did find herself there she never ventured outside the Presidio where the suburbs lie with their local businesses and pancake diners. There was just no reason to. Deep down the thought of trailing those cracking sidewalks and glancing through toy shop windows brought a prickling tear to the corner of her eye.
Regina recalled her "intrusion" on Emma earlier the other day. She hadn't planned on asking her to come back. All Regina intended the visit to achieve was a show of good faith, not towards Emma but Kathryn. She knew her friend well enough that a simple transmission wouldn't do. Kathryn would have badgered her day and night, nudged her at blaster point if need be, to push Regina towards this closure she spoke of.
All Regina wanted from this week on Earth was to appease Kathryn. But Emma just had to be her bull-headed self. Regina came there with half an olive branch in expectation that the other half would be carried by the lieutenant commander-turned-mechanic. Regina tried to be nice. Truthfully, it irked her better judgment, but she did make an effort. In return she received snorts of derision, half-hearted challenges, and a good-for-nothing smirk.
"Argh!"
Walking down the sidewalk, Regina's heel came down through her stride to strike duracrete. She made loud, angry strides, huffing and flipping her hair roughly to the side as if it wronged her. Frustration consumed her so that she hardly noticed the quizzical stares as she passed by.
Why in seven hells had she offered Emma's job back? It was like she had no control over her voice. Two years ago she would see it as stooping to the lowest level possible, but something in her begged to differ. In fact, it clawed from behind her ribcage to ask.
My gods, she thought. I nearly groveled at her toe-scuffed boots.
Regina wouldn't back down. Yielding to failure wasn't in her nature and neither was walking away. A captain always finished what they started, and Regina would have her way even if it meant breaking a promise.
She reached the park with plenty of sunlight to spare. Children of all ages clamored over the playground equipment while their parents watched from the picnic tables. Regina's stride faltered and slowed to a meandering walk. She hugged the fringes of the park, hiding from view until she scrounged the nerve. By the time she spotted them her courage barely reached approaching level. Swallowing hard, she did so anyway.
It was their usual time and their usual spot. They frequented this park in particular because of the winding slide and the trim, fuzzy grass for lying out on during story time.
"Henry, you have to follow-through on your throws. It's a critical part of pitching in baseball."
"But I don't wanna play baseball. I wanna play dodge discus!"
"It's too dangerous, Henry. I've told you before. You're not old enough."
"You said you played at my age!"
Emma glanced down at the ball she tossed in her hand and mumbled, "Sure didn't fool the authorities."
Dodge discus was a rough and tumble sport with a heavy penalty. Though strictly forbidden by those 16 and younger, even the mature, more athletic players suffered concussions from lurking disks. Many who were not of age took to the streets to try their hand at the twist on Old World dodgeball. Emma herself risked life and limb to play. Heavy, blunt edged discs were her way of getting back at bullies and ex-foster brothers. The games were cathartic, until the police showed up.
"Just don't do it, kid," Emma found herself saying. She shook her head. What a shining example of parenting she was.
Henry grumbled something unintelligible to her ears and threw back a wobbly curve ball.
Emma caught it in her worn leather glove and threw it back. "Hey, if you don't keep your eyes on where you're throwing, the ball will –"
Henry's aim proved perfect on his next pitch. The target of his wide-eyed stare allowed his throw to soar high above his mother (way out of reach of her glove) and strike the ground just inches from Regina's feet. It tumbled on impact and rolled in the grass until it tapped her shoe at journey's end.
Emma turned to locate the ball just as Henry started hesitantly towards her. Emma's eyes were shocked open by Regina's presence. Her mouth opened and closed. Surprise came first; she didn't know why the captain was here, in the park, many miles from her precious Presidio. Of all the places that beckoned a very busy commander of the fleet. Then an oncoming rush of anger sang through Emma's veins. Her face went red as she clenched her teeth. What the hell was she doing here? Had she come back to berate her some more? Whatever the reason, Emma didn't appreciate being harassed on her time off any more than she did at work.
Her eyes then widened as she realized they weren't alone. Emma looked down to Henry who had grown several inches over the years. Although he was still short for his age, the top of his head nearly reached her hip. As she cherished his youth, the agitation that had recently rose to the surface of her flushed skin paled to a simmering level. She was still enraged, but less so when Henry was by her side. He could comfort her grouchy flames because he was the last person in the galaxy she'd want to get caught in them. With him, vendettas weren't worth the trouble.
Regina waited for the vibroax to fall. She had picked up the baseball, half in favor of using it to defend herself, the other half using it as a distraction. Between wrapping up her lecture and encroaching on a family's play time, she had prepared herself for another one of Emma's petulant tirades, knowing her intrusion was nothing if not improper. The flaming red cheeks told Regina she wasn't wanted. But then she watched as Emma looked down to her son. The transformation proved delicate – no one else would have caught the subtle changes. The hardness around Emma's eyes softened, her jaw untightened, and her throat bobbed to nervousness. Regina panned anxiously from Emma to Henry, wondering what would transpire between them and what it would mean for her.
But Henry wasn't consulting his mother. He wasn't walking towards her either. No, Regina hushed to herself. Henry was looking at her, and walking towards her. Regina felt her heart leap into her throat. She couldn't speak if she wanted to, even if she had any idea of what to say.
Regina's trim, manicured nails scrapped over the laces of the baseball. Its weight seemed to grow heavier in her grasp and she just gripped it tighter. She remembered the promise she made to herself to never see this boy again, to never allow him to weasel back into her heart with that goofy smile and his constant need to overlook her faults.
The baseball slid from her limp fingertips and bounced to the ground. Her knees nearly buckled as she felt the comfort of Henry in her arms again.
"Oh, my goodness!" she gasped as Henry barreled into her. Using his momentum, she swept his weight off the ground and into a snug embrace. She couldn't bear to wipe the grin off her face.
He was everything safe and gentle in her world. To have him back again, if only for a little while, brought Regina to a whole new level of happiness. The universe had meaning now. Anything seemed possible. His touch turned every durasteel part of her to something supple and snuggly warm. And yet with his arms about her neck she never felt stronger, never more complete.
He pulled back with the widest, most beautiful smile Regina had ever seen.
"Oh, you're so tall and handsome! I bet you can reach the handlebars of a speeder!"
Henry giggled. "I'm not that tall!"
"You've still grown much since I last saw you. Have you begun your studies?"
He nodded vigorously. "I started first grade. I'm six!"
"You are?" Regina's eyes broadened fantastically. She chuckled at her rapidly beaming company. His whole body waggled like a throttling ion engine, so she just held on tighter, blessed with a reason to do so. "It must be exciting to start on the road to flight school. I remember my first years. I couldn't wait to begin."
"But it's so long!" The whole of his weight seemed to deflate with the complaint. "I'll never get there!"
"It will go by fast. I promise. You will be ready for the academy in no time," she said, finishing with a touch of her finger to the tip of his nose. He gave her a toothy smile in return.
Regina caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Emma's silhouette came into view before the sunset and loomed closer. Regina couldn't find it in her to fume at the interruption. Although she lowered Henry back to the ground she wouldn't tolerate an end to their reunion. Settling on one knee, Regina stayed crouched beside him with a long arm around his waist and keeping him snuggly near.
"Hey, Henry, can you play on the slide or something? I need to talk with Captain Mills."
Brown strands rustling in the wind, his head tilted up at his mother. He must have been giving her quite the stare down because Emma began to shift on her feet and nibble at her lip.
She allowed it with a short nod. "You can continue your conversation with the captain later. Now go on."
Regina was loath to let him go, but Henry had always been an obedient child. Her fingers slipped reluctantly from his retreating body and she watched him run for the playground. She stood chuckling as he scrambled up the stepladder and pushed himself down the slide with a joyfully, "Lift ooooff!"
"This is low, even for you."
Regina paid no mind to the inflamation encircling Emma's eyes. If she had she would have noticed the dampness on Emma's knuckles.
"Yet you claim I never change," she remarked evenly. "Just why do you think I came here? You must have some idea flying around in that thick head of yours."
"You still can't take 'no' for an answer. You have to come into my neighborhood –"
"Oh, I do apologize," Regina mocked, touching her heart solemnly. "I thought this was a free planet."
"You have to come into my neighborhood and intrude on my time with my son. You come into his life again like you haven't been around for two years…" Emma blinked back tears and reared forward, pointing a finger at Regina threateningly. "He hasn't seen you for two years, Regina. He doesn't get a blasted holo from you. Do you know what that does to a child? Do you know what leaving does to them?"
Regina's chest spasmed. Her insides felt like acid, eating away at her ribcage and bubbling to the surface. She exhaled shallowly, forcing her own grief at bay. Although aware of how her sudden appearance might affect Henry, Regina would damn herself to another Korobi ambush before she felt shame for expressing her joy at seeing him again. To do so would be a graver sin than she ever before committed.
"This isn't about him," she claimed, shocked that it came out as clear as it did. This wasn't even about Emma and the irony of her isolated childhood.
"And yet you're asking me to leave him."
"You did so before – countless times."
"And look where it got him. I nearly lost him. I was betrayed by the only person I could trust to care for him. Mulan stabbed me in the gut for gods' blasted sake!"
"That's not the reason why you left. If it was, then you would have tendered your resignation the moment we left Xelphi Six to space dust. If you took Henry's safety as an issue higher than that of your duty to billions of children in the galaxy, you wouldn't have stayed on another six months."
"I can't believe this! You're blaming me for choosing my kid over Cosmofleet? Are you spaced out?"
"That's not what I meant, Miss Swan, and you know it. Don't put words in my mouth." Regina coaxed her temper down with a long, deep breath and let it out slowly. "You worried for Henry after the Raider incident, I'll give you that. But it wasn't your reason for leaving. Whatever your reasoning, I don't care, not at the moment. I am asking you to return to your post. I am asking you to do what is best for yourself and your son. You know this more than I."
Regina couldn't figure out for the life of her why the woman persisted blind to reason. Maybe the problem lied with Emma's character. She thought so highly of her streetwise I can pilot anything with a repulsor attitude. This kind of pride made it impossible to reach a compromise. Emma hated when her captain proved her wrong just as Regina did when the tables were turned.
"I built a life for myself and my family," Emma said. "On Earth we don't have to worry about a fleet of Raiders or a homicidal commander and her bizarre crusade against them. I don't have to sacrifice my despicable life for a superior who doesn't give a blast whether I get cooked well done in an ion generator or die in an attempt to save her from her mutinous crew. I don't deal with that kind of shit here. Cosmofleet doesn't have to follow-up on me. I'm not a threat to them or myself, so don't you pretend to be concerned about my welfare. I'm doing just fine on my own, thank you very much."
After a once over, Regina raised a condescending brow. "You don't look fine, dear."
"Oh, screw you! You don't know shit about me, Regina. If you did you'd know using my kid is the very last straw of patience I have in holding myself back from stunning your ass back to the fleet."
Regina wasn't fooled. She certainly didn't see a blaster on the woman. Even if there was, by rights, she probably deserved a blaster shot or two. Emma had every right to protect her son. Regina never intended to use Henry because she just didn't think it'd take much to persuade Emma back. No high-ranking officer resigned the fleet at the age of 28 and returned to a civilian life on Earth. No pilot who had seen the marvels of space travel would go back to a life of monotony and speeder repairs. Emma wasn't meant to keep her feet on solid duracrete.
Regina didn't intend to use Henry, but if it worked… so be it.
"I may be using Henry, but at least I'm not using him as a shield. At least I'm not using him as an excuse not to face a life I mistakenly turned my back on. That is all on you, Miss Swan, so if you want to make this about him, fine. But remember: you have left him before. The only difference now is he's older. He knows why you have to do this. He understands, Emma."
Emma was already violently shaking her head before she registered the sound of her name. "You don't. You don't know him."
Regina closed in until there was but a pace between them. She waited there, waited for Emma to detect the meaning in her eyes. "I see him," she said softly. "His eyes… He knows you better than you know yourself. He will understand."
The shaking of her own head convinced Emma that it would solve all her problems. She continued the motion as it distracted her from the anguish and terror she would feel at disserting Henry again. She didn't know why Regina was pushing. She hadn't a clue why her returning to the Storybrooke meant so much to the captain. One thing was for sure: Regina always had an angle. She never asked for something without there being a catch. She would reap every advantage she could out of a deal and leave Emma in the lurch.
Enough was enough. Emma spent far too much of her life caring what Regina thought. She spent too many hours wondering what she wanted and why she did the things she did. Enough.
"Did you think I would be miserable?" Emma asked. She gave one last shake of her head, clearing her mind of grief. All it did was cloud her judgment. "Is that what you want from me? Did you want me to have a shitty life just because I blew you off? Well, you can have it. I am miserable. Ever since I left the Storybrooke there's been this emptiness eating away at me because I am miserable without you!"
Regina asked softly enough it barely passes for audible, "Is that the truth?"
Emma faltered. She covered the lapse with a steely frown. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Commander."
Stepping back as if stunned, Regina blinked. Her throat felt dry and uncooperative. She retreated another pace, her heels skimming over grass. No one rocked her like this. No one.
"Go!" Emma shouted, hysterical and lividly red in the face. "I don't want to see you around here anymore. Stop trying to conform me against my will, and if you get within viewing distance of my son, you will be sorry."
Regina shot a lingering stare at Henry who was playing obliviously on the low incline climbing wall. It pained her to leave. Without a goodbye it resembled a similar scenario that played out two years ago when Emma handed her a two weeks' notice. She wasn't able to say goodbye to Henry then. They were never able to say things their hearts needed to say much less able to spare one last look at each other. She blamed Emma for that cold break like she did so now.
This time, Regina left without a smile.
A few days later at The Classic the Swans enjoyed a pleasant lunch. The Old World retro diner sparked a sentimental feeling due to their frequenting this establishment since Henry was born. Emma liked to claim her son could eat a healthy stack of pancakes by the time he was a month old, but Henry just giggled ecstatically at the exaggeration. Either way, he made her a proud mother whether he could eat like a horse or not. As long as he wasn't wasteful and said his "please's" and "thank you's," she would keep taking him to the diner till they put her six feet under.
That afternoon Henry and Emma sat across from each other at their favorite booth across from the soda fountain bar. Henry plowed through a stack of pancakes with a small side of fruit (at his mom's behest), while Emma enjoyed a greasy hamburger and fries. They munched their food in silence, each lost in thought. Unwittingly, they shared the same one track mind, the same mind which obsessed over one singular individual: Captain Mills.
Emma never thought she'd see Regina and Henry together again. It didn't seem plausible. In her desperation, she hoped that Henry would forget his bestest, prettiest friend (his words) and all the times they shared. It would only hurt him in the long run if he held fast to the memory of the captain. Emma felt for him, though. It couldn't have been easy to throw her away, the enigmatic woman who ate pancakes with him and saved his life no less.
And yet after two years with no contact, Henry went running to her like no time had gone by at all. Emma remembered watching with a heavy heart how Henry's and Regina's eyes lit up. They embraced and smiled and affirmed how much they missed one another by the luminosity in their eyes. Emma herself tried and failed to hold back the tears. Regina genuinely missed Henry. She could have easily admitted to loving him because he was so open to it. He was her exception.
Emma understood because it was the same with her. When it came to others, people who were not family, Emma had a stubborn heart and was just as uncertain as Regina in letting them in. But with Henry she couldn't keep her heart from leaping out of her chest. It grew bigger at every smile he flashed, pumped harder and faster to each scraped knee, and wept at the sound of his whimpering nightmares.
But then reality came rushing back. Their reunion wouldn't last forever. Cosmofleet prevented Regina from staying even if she wanted to. It all left Emma in an awkward position. Sometimes being a parent meant making heartbreaking decisions to protect your children. In doing so, Emma had fisted away her tears and banished her sweet boy from the only other adult in his life whom he cherished.
So damn Regina if Emma and Henry didn't have a good thing going before she showed up. Damn her for reminding Emma what she left behind and how much Emma couldn't breathe without it. Gods, even right there in the park she felt trapped in an airlock with all the precious oxygen sucked out. And damn Regina for being so blasted argumentative! The woman wouldn't shut up!
Thus Emma would not feel guilty or embarrassed for evicting the captain from their park. And no, she would not go back on her threat to keep Regina from Henry. There was no reason to when her business with Captain Mills was finished. She made up her mind. She couldn't accept the offer to return to the fleet because the only person that could make her say yes didn't have the guts to admit what she really wanted. Regina may be whip smart and an incredibly gifted strategist, but she was incapable of being reasonable at the risk of her image.
Slouching in her booth, Emma watched the bubbles in her soda fizzle to the surface. She had been sneaking glances at Henry since leaving the park a few days ago. She did so now, subtly from across the booth and hoping he hadn't noticed. She watched him relentlessly, ready to tend to the questions swirling in his head.
She picked up a fry and ate it. Chewing slowly, she peered carefully at her son's 'pancakescapades.' Henry persisted in an unusually quiet mood, so she slipped back into her thoughts.
Storybrooke's mission launch was tomorrow. Though Emma didn't want to dwell on it, she couldn't help but wonder in the hours leading up to take off. The last shuttle will probably leave at noon. Captain Mills liked to run ahead of schedule so as to lead the welcome committee for incoming recruits and afford them enough time to get comfortable with their cabin assignments.
Once all personnel have been settled, informed, and dressed to the nines in their uniforms, it fell to the captain to order her helmsman to leave space dock. She'd run system check after system check and berate Leroy over hyperdrive status before even considering departure from orbit. Regina cared as much about the integrity of every bulkhead and screw of that ship as she did her own life. When she and she alone was satisfied, they were a mission "go." Launch would commence at 1400-hours – give or take a minute if Regina nitpicked the angle of Rumple's egress.
But Emma had to keep telling herself that she would not be embarking with the rest of them, not this time.
"Momma?"
She perked in her seat. "Yeah?"
Henry pushed the pancakes around his plate with his fork. "Why don't you talk about her?"
"Captain Mills?" Emma's eyes bulged. She had noticed his contemplative mood, but she didn't expect him to fess up. "Why do you say that?"
"Because you don't."
Wow, Emma thought. What a smart ass. Must be the Swan genes.
"Why was she here? What did she want?"
"Confidential stuff. You can ask me again when you're a cadet. Not before, little pilot."
Henry's pout tested his mother's mettle further.
"Come on," whined Emma, face screwing into contortions. "Don't do that."
"I'm your son."
"So… what, you get preferential treatment because you're the kid of an ex-fleet officer?"
He tipped his head at the words "preferential treatment," and looked as cute as ever.
She didn't have anyone else to talk to about this. No one at Dusty's shop cared to hear about her fantastic exploits on space stations and inhospitable planets any more than they wanted to hear her bitch about her ex-commanding officer. She didn't fit in there any more than she did when she first joined the Storybrooke. So with the only person she trusted sitting across from her and looking about to die without some sort of news, Emma came out with it.
"Alright," she sighed. "Captain Mills came to offer my old job back."
"They want you to fly starships?" Henry gasped, eyes growing bigger by the second.
"No," she corrected, chuckling, "just one. She wants me to return to my old commission onboard the Storybrooke."
"Cool." His ecstatic mood ratcheted up to nuclear levels as his feet began to swinging wildly under him, the heels of his tennis shoes bumping against the booth. "Can I come, Momma? Pleeease?"
"No way." Emma scoffed more at the idea than at Henry. She realized how that sounded to him and quickly made to course correct away from an imminent tantrum. "Hey, little pilot, I would if I could, but children aren't allowed on fleet vessels, you know that. And it's way too dangerous. I can't always be around to protect you. It's a big, big ship and I have lots of responsibilities which include protecting all the other crew." She frowned at her misstep and corrected, "Had responsibilities."
"But I got to fly last time!" he maintained with every ounce of feeling available to a pint-sized six-year-old. "The lizard guy let me touch the buttons! And I got to use a comms piece from Rubees! And the cap'n gave me her shiny badge and let me sit in her big chair!"
Emma frowned at the memory. Even she considered the gifting of a medal of commendation to be a bit forward on Regina's part, but whatever. They were her honors to give away willy-nilly.
"Why can't I go?" he pleaded, with a protruding bottom lip.
It devastated Emma to rain on this little parade, but it might devastate her more to hear that her son went blind from looking at the pretty purple glowing reactor or pressed the wrong hatch release on an airlock or got lost and kidnapped and held for ransom on any number of Storybrooke's decks in the hands of any number of lower ranked grunts. The scenarios ranged from outlandish to far-fetched, yet it all seemed plausible in Emma's mind.
"That was a very special exception, Henry. And you were in danger, so that definitely doesn't count."
His whole upper body fell with the sigh. He brought his foot up on the booth cushion and proceeded to pick at his shoe straps. His whole attention zeroed in on the activity as he asked quietly, "Does she not want me?"
"Want you there?" she asked dumbly. "Captain Mills?" He nodded. "Because she hadn't been around to see you before?" He nodded, still invested in the Velcro on his light-up shoes. "You know, Henry… that's not her fault. When I left two years ago to be home with you…"
What could she say? Just a few days ago she accused Regina of breaking his heart. Now it was her own fault? Now Regina needed defending? Oh, if only Regina were here. That'd be rich.
Emma shook her head to herself, rubbing at her forehead.
"When I left I had no reason to be around her, you know? I don't work for her anymore. But she couldn't resign too. She had to stay because it's her job. She has a responsibility to her ship and her crew. Do you understand?"
His brow furrowed. True to Swan family fashion, he slouched down as if he committed some heinous crime and nibbled fitfully at his bottom lip.
"Having a family and staying in contact with friends is hard for people in Cosmofleet. When I flew with the Storybrooke it was like living in seven he – I mean, it was like living in Varma bat poo not being able to be with you. I'm sure the captain would have visited you if she could." Emma cocked her head, attempting a smile. "She seemed glad to see you again. She must have missed you." His shoulders hitched, but no cigar. She ducked her head closer and tried, "From where I was standing you seemed pretty glad to see her to."
He looked up at her, his eyes watery and his chin trembling. His lips opened in a hesitant smile and he nodded once.
Emma smiled back and nodded with him. Without a second's thought, she reached for the syrup and leant over the table to slide it near him. When he glanced down and failed to take the bait, she tapped it bit by bit until the glass bottle touched his hand. She smiled a sneaky smile and winked.
He could hold back the smile for only so long. Where his mother's wily antics were concerned, he just couldn't help it. He smiled wide, the delight reaching his sparkling eyes.
As predicted, Henry didn't waste any time in dousing his pancakes with more syrup. When someone gives you an extra helping of sugar, you take it, no questions asked.
"So you're going back to the ship?" he asked around a mouthful of extra sticky pancake.
She shook her head, tipping her soda back.
"Why not?!"
Emma snorted up some of her drink at the outburst. She bent, coughing into her palm and wiping the tears from her eyes. "Whoa, calm down, kid. I'm not leaving you again. That's a good thing."
"But you gotta go! You gotta go back – you gotta!"
"Why on Earth do I 'gotta'? Is my six-year-old giving me an ultimatum?"
"You gotta go so you can tell me stories. I miss your stories."
Emma's head jerked back. "What's wrong with the stories I tell now?" she asked, taking offense at the likelihood that she didn't tell good bedtime stories. What in seven hells? Her stories were great! They were stellar!
"But they're old. I want new ones!"
"Well, we can go online and buy some," she sang with a waggle of her head.
"Moom-maa," he droned.
"Whaa-taa?"
Henry shot her solemn, meaningful puppy eyes. "Why don't you wanna go back to the starship?" he asked, like it was the most innocent question in the galaxy.
"Kid, do you remember when I worked on the Storybrooke?"
"A little. I remember it being really huge!"
"Well, do you also remember us being apart for months at a time? We could only talk to each other through hologram. I couldn't attend those riveting parent/teacher conferences or play with you or cook dinner for you. Henry," Emma sighed, shifting her head from one hand to the other and weighing on it heavily, "if I go back to my old job then that means we can't have these nice lunches at The Classic. We won't be together as much as we are now."
The reality seemed to be setting in. He tucked his hands under his thighs and tottered from side to side. He tipped his head oddly and stared at a vague spot on the table. The kid fidgeted a lot when he was using extra brain power. Emma could totally sympathize.
"So you know what that means?"
"Yeaaah."
His voice dragged off weakly. Emma felt the uncertainty in it as he stared back down at his plate.
"You should go, Momma. I'm a big boy now."
Emma leaned back, inhaling shakily. She swallowed. Gods, he was growing up right in front of her as they spoke. She could already feel the tears building. If she left Earth, she'd never get to witness this. He'd develop and mature and live his life while Emma journeyed billions of parsecs away. A hologram wouldn't be the same. Not touching him and smelling him would make her go mad as a spaced out pirate.
He gave her a little grin and said, "Outer space needs you more."
Emma bit back a sob, turning away towards the bar area. She pressed her fist against her trembling mouth and breathed through her nostrils. She felt all the blood leave her face. She was going to be sick. How could she be so sick as to consider abandoning her own child on fucking Earth?
But when she looked back she felt renewed of hope. Henry was giving her a smile that told her everything would be alright. I can take care of me, it said. Go take care of you.
"You are so important to me, you know that?"
The attention span of a six-year-old was less than that of an atom. Or at least it seemed that way to their parents. Henry stared down the last bit of pancake on his plate, tongue roving mindlessly over his sticky lips in strategizing his next move. Legs swinging, he nodded distractedly.
Humphing to herself, Emma exited her side of the booth and slid in next to him. She lifted him into her lap so she could better smell the shampoo of his hair. She inhaled his scent. A troublesome sensation sprouted from deep within her, a feeling she hadn't experienced since she last set off Earth. Terrified that her son might sense her trembling, she squeezed him tighter. "My little pilot. I love you."
He smacked his syrupy lips to her cheek. "Love you, Momma."
When they finished their meal and paid (Emma pitched in), she steered her son onto one of the bar stools. She waved over a waitress both she and Henry knew well after many trips to The Classic and asked her to watch him for a few minutes. Henry seemed perfectly content perched on a stool and perusing an apple pie in its glass container.
Stepping outside, Emma retrieved her comlink and entered in a number she dusted off from memory. As she waited for the device to hail the recipient Emma peered through the transparisteel. Henry was seen with his nose pressed up to the glass pie case. She smirked, shaking her head. You weren't a Swan if you didn't drool over the pie selection after a pancake brunch.
Her palm-sized comlink chirped. Sparing a glance at her only child, Emma cast away her doubts and long-held fears and raised the device to her lips.
"Yeah, this is Emma Swan. Can you patch me through to Commander Mills' office? I'm sure she's expecting my call."
