Summary: Henry and Regina engage in a tradition they do every year; baking cookies.

Characters: Henry and Regina

"Come on Mom," Henry exclaimed impatiently as Regina walked into the kitchen. "I already got everything ready." She surveyed the room, impressed that her son had remembered all the necessary ingredients, although she supposed he should remember what all they needed. After all, they only made gingerbread cookies every year.

"Alright Henry, alright." She pretended to be irritated at his impatience, but she was grinning from ear to ear, so it didn't really work.

He practically dragged her over to the recipe book, and she barely had time to throw on an apron before the cooking began. In the end, she was glad she'd taken time to protect her clothes, because Henry started a miniature food fight, which ended with him satisfyingly covered in dough, and her magically cleaning the homemade substance so they could actually bake with it.

"Can you cook them any faster?" Henry asked when the people they'd cut out had only been in the oven for a few minutes. He seemed really impatient this year; she wondered why. "You could use your magic?"

"Yes, but then how would you learn to be patient? Besides, why are you in such a big hurry this year?"

"I just have a great idea for decorating them." She looked at him curiously, but he just smiled. "I can't tell you, you have to wait and see. But they'll be the best ones yet." Now Regina found herself having trouble waiting for the cookies to be finished. However, she wasn't going to let Henry force her into using magic when she'd already told him she wouldn't.

The second the delicious-smelling cookies were out of the oven, Henry started to decorate, and instead of decorating alongside him, Regina watched. That is, she tried to watch, until he glared at her and forced her to return to her own gingerbread men. But, if he was doing something special with his cookies, she couldn't just decorate hers with M and M buttons and a frosting smile. Grinning as the idea popped into her head, she set to work with as much enthusiasm as her son. He was going to love the theme she'd thought of for her cookies.

"Okay Mom," Henry said as the last bit of frosting was put on her last cookie. "You can see now." Regina walked over to look at her son's creations, and burst out laughing.

"Henry, you nailed it!" She looked at all his little cookies, and couldn't get over how accurate they all looked. "Hook even has a hook for a hand!" Henry beamed, glancing over his work. When he had thought of making a cookie look like people from town, he hadn't realized how awesome it would turn out, but all of them were easily recognizable. "How on earth did you manage Archie's glasses?"

"Well, I used black frosting and a tooth pick." It seemed like only yesterday when Henry's technique for decorating cookies had been unevenly spreading frosting and throwing a handful of M and Ms on top. His decorating skills had improved so much since then, and Regina couldn't help but be proud of her son. "How do yours look?" Henry asked, before walking over to view the cookies she'd decorated.

"Awesome!" he exclaimed almost instantly. "Marvel super heroes!" She'd known he'd like them. All of his favorite super heroes, from Captain America to Iron Man, were on her sheet. "What gave you that idea?"

"You, of course." His smile widened, as he looked at her, and then back at the cookies they created. Suddenly however, the smile slipped off his face and was replaced with sheer horror.

"Oh no," he exclaimed.

"Henry, what's wrong?" Regina asked, worried for her son. Had something happened? If so, she had no idea what.

"How are we going to be able to eat anyone? Everyone's too awesome to eat." It took a second or two for what he'd said to sink in, but soon she was laughing. He joined in soon after.

"Well, I guess they'll just have to sacrifice themselves for the greater good." Henry laughed harder, and then, out of nowhere, he was hugging her.

He didn't explain, but he didn't have to. Regina knew he was hugging her to thank her for all the years they'd made cookies together, and all the years they'd continue to do so.