"All men have the stars," he answered, "but they are not the same things for different people. For some, who are travelers, the stars are guides. For others they are no more than little lights in the sky. For others, who are scholars, they are problems. For my businessman they were wealth. But all these stars are silent. You- you alone- will have the stars as no one else has them-"

"What are you trying to say?"

"In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing, when you look at the sky at night...you – only you – will have stars that can laugh!"

And he laughed again.

"And when your sorrow is comforted (time soothes all sorrows) you will be content that you have known me. You will always be my friend. You will want to laugh with me. And you will sometimes open your window, so, for that pleasure... and your friends will be properly astonished to see you laughing as you look up at the sky! Then you will say to them, 'Yes, the stars always make me laugh!' And they will think you are crazy. It will be a very shabby trick that I shall have played on you..."

And he laughed again.

- from The Little Prince: Chapter 26 - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

"Hi Daniel," Regina says shyly, clutching the bouquet of white roses so tightly she's afraid her fingers may remain permanently clenched around the stems, "it's...well, it's me, obviously." She gives an embarrassed chuckle and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm...I'm here. I'm sorry it's been so long."

Anxiously scuffing her feet, she kicks up patches of browned grass and showers her running shoes with the loose, parched dirt, and then she rolls her eyes at herself for waiting around like a piece of rock is going to verbally confirm that her apology's been accepted. "I'll...um...I guess I'll just have to assume you're listening," she mutters awkwardly.

After a quick scan of the dirt beside the headstone – no spiders: he always knew to kill them before she came into the room – she kneels down and clears her throat, waiting for the right words to pop into her head. They don't. "Daniel, I...I don't know how to do this," she finally admits. "I always thought it was stupid, and – and maybe I still do, I suppose. Marian was always trying to be spiritual, remember? She thought I should be able to feel your presence or something like that, but...well, obviously, I didn't."

She sighs and leans heavily against the stone – might as well be comfortable – and continues, "I don't know if I do now, either, but here I am. I guess...I don't know. I guess this is one of those things that needs to be said more than it needs to be heard."

Kind of like the incredibly shrill bird chirping right next to them. Perhaps Eva Blanchard's grave is nearby.

She smirks and winces at the same time.

"Daniel, I loved you so much!" she bursts out. "And every day I had to live without you was just...it was agony. I told myself I'd never forget you, and I'd honor your memory and make a ritual of visiting you and all of it, but...I didn't. I was just...oh god, Daniel, I was such a mess. I couldn't let you see me like that. I – I know it sounds silly, doesn't it? Hiding from someone who's not even there. You'd probably laugh at me. That's all I ever wanted, you know," she adds with the smallest of laughs. "For eleven years, all I wanted every second of every day was to hear you laugh."

She still wants it, just a little bit.

"After a while...I don't know. I suppose the avoidance became its own ritual."

The bird's flown a little closer, but it's quieted down the shrieking. She offers it a benevolent smile – as if birds can understand human facial gestures, she thinks, rolling her eyes again – and wonders if perhaps she actually appreciates the company.

"Anyway, I guess I'm here now because I'm no longer a mess, or at least I'm less of a mess," she clarifies with another nervous chuckle, "but I...I'm working on it. I'll probably always be working on it, but...well, for now, it's acceptable. I met someone – I'm dating that someone, actually. Maybe it's a bit of a low blow to come back here just to tell you that – is it?" She takes the silence to mean no. "Good. I had hoped...I suppose I hoped you'd be proud of me. Are you?"

More silence. This time, she'd like to assume it means yes.

"Thank you," she whispers, resting her head against the stone. "Her name is Emma. You'd love her," she tells him. "Actually, you know her – you apparently saved her from jumping off a bridge when she was seventeen. I guess you told her that she could make something of her life and be a good parent, and...well, you were right." She smiles wistfully and adds, "You were always right."

"Her son's name is Henry," she whispers, like it's a big secret and she's not just talking to herself in an empty cemetery. "She actually wanted to name him after you, but you never told her your name. Idiot."

She exhales and says, "Anyway, we're very happy together. So far. And...well, I'm retiring from the force. I'm sort of being forced into it, but I suppose it's for the best. And if all goes according to plan, I'll be adopting two little girls soon. That'll be...it'll be an adventure. I don't know if I'm ready." Lips pressed tightly together, she gives her head a quick shake. "After all this time, I still don't know if I'm ready to be a mother. But I suppose after all this time, I should have figured out that the fates or whoever's in charge don't really care what I'm ready for. I know I'm ready to start moving forward again, though."

The bird is now perched on top of the headstone, and Regina stares hard at it for a moment, chewing at her lower lip. "I miss you, Daniel. I don't know that I'll ever stop missing you. But I've finally decided that everything is going to be fine, and I just wanted you to know that." Rising stiffly, she deposits the bouquet of flowers in front of the headstone and waits like she's expecting some sort of sign that she's been heard.

But there's nothing. The birds chirp, the breeze swirls around her, and the car horns of the evening rush hour crowd continue their unabated honking.

But then again, she didn't say any of it for his benefit, and maybe that's okay.

"I love you, Daniel," she whispers, fingertip lightly tracing the inscription on the inside of her ring. The most powerful magic of all. Then she turns and watches as the bird flutters its wings a few times before flying off into the sunset, returning to its nest.

And she returns to hers.

"Swan, can I see you in my office?" Locksley calls the second she walks into the station.

She stops short just in front of her chair, startled. "Yeah, sure," she mutters. What is it this time? Somehow, in Regina's absence, she's been billed as Locksley's second-in-command even though she's she most junior member of the squad.

It's not that she minds it; having the confidence of her commanding officer is a good thing, but she's pretty sure it's either because Regina told Locksley (more like threatened him, probably) to take special care of her, or Locksley has convinced himself that she knows more than she does just because she spent a few months being trained by the mythical Detective Mills, and neither prospect is appealing to her.

"I've found you a new desk mate," he says brightly when she enters his office, and Emma is momentarily shocked but not particularly surprised to see Officer Fa – or, if her new gold badge is any indication, Detective Fa – standing next to him.

"Congratulations," Emma responds, leaning in to shake Mulan's hand. "Welcome to the squad."

The rookie detective just nods, looking slightly overwhelmed. Locksley continues, "I told her you're the point person for all of her questions except anything about the best area donut shops. You can point out Humbert for those kinds of things."

"I don't eat donuts," Mulan mutters on their way out. "More of a savory kind of person. Do you know anywhere around here that serves good burgers?"

Emma smirks as she points Mulan to her seat and thinks that maybe working here without Regina won't be the worst thing ever. There may even be a few advantages to her replacement.

"Are you ready?" Regina asks gently. She's got the horse all saddled and ready to go, but the greenish tint of Emma's cheeks and her violently trembling hands are apparently giving her pause. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"I want to," Emma mutters. "I just... Henry will probably kill me if I chicken out now, right?" The look he'd given her when he'd galloped off with Big Henry – after Emma had complained that his scrutiny was stressing her out – had said as much.

"No. Well, yes, he might be slightly disappointed, but he certainly won't kill you." Emma gulps and nods, and after a moment of silence, Regina adds, "And neither will this horse. Phoenix is really quite gentle."

"Yeah, right. And quite large."

Regina shrugs. "He's a horse, dear. It's in his DNA."

"I know, but..." she trails off as another wave of nausea overtakes her, and Regina smiles sympathetically.

"I don't think you're riding today," she says knowingly. "Maybe you can just touch him for a second and then help my mother in the house; I think she's trying to set up guest rooms for the kids, and I'm not one hundred percent comfortable with her moving furniture all by herself."

"Right," Emma sighs. Petting a horse is definitely something she can do, right? Clutching Regina's hand tightly, she inches closer to Phoenix and tentatively reaches out to touch his nose.

Smiling proudly at her, Regina asks, "It's not so bad, is it?"

Emma nods. "It's alright," she agrees, chuckling a little when Phoenix affectionately blows on her hand. "You're pretty nice," she tells him. "Maybe I'll ride you...someday."

"Well, we have time," says Regina. "Now go make sure my mother doesn't break her hip before we ruin all of your progress by pushing too hard."

"Yes ma'am," Emma replies, giving a mock salute before she jogs up to the house. She pauses about halfway up the hill and turns just in time to watch Regina mount the horse and ride majestically off into the sunset – well, the apple orchard, anyway – in pursuit of the Henrys, and she grins.

Because they have time, and she's excited to use every minute of it.

"Members of the jury, have you reached a verdict?"

"We have, Your Honor. On the first count of the indictment, the murder of Aurora Arendt, we find the defendant, Albert Spencer, guilty."

"Yes!" Emma whispers into Regina's ear, pumping her fist.

"On the second count of the indictment, the murder of Phillip Arendt, we find the defendant guilty."

Locksley, sitting on Regina's other side, reaches out to squeeze her hand.

"On the third count of the indictment, the attempted murder of Malinda Black, we find the defendant guilty. On the fourth count of the indictment, kidnapping in the first degree, we find the defendant guilty."

Regina forces herself off the wooden bench and strides out the door with her head almost painfully erect, ignoring quiet protests from both Emma and Robin.

They mean well, but they don't get it.

She makes it to the bathroom and locks herself into a stall before she loses it, crying and beating her fists against the unsympathetic metal door.

Spencer's getting at least two consecutive life sentences, probably closer to three. The statute of limitations on what he'd done to her has already run out, but he'll still be spending what's left of his miserable life in prison, and she's getting love and family and a second chance at happiness.

It should be enough for her.

It isn't.

She's mostly calmed herself by the time Emma comes barging in and starts banging on the door. "Regina, talk to me," she calls from just outside the stall, her voice unnecessarily loud considering there's only about a foot between them. "You okay?"

"Yes!" she hollers back. And then she remembers she's supposed to be practicing honesty, and she softly corrects herself. "No, I'm not."

"Anything I can do to help?"

Regina sighs. Just be here, she wants to reply. Instead, she counts to ten and then opens the door and pulls Emma tightly against her, inhaling the unpleasant but somehow comforting smell of rain-dampened leather while Emma's fingers gently brush away her tears.

"I love you," Emma whispers, and Regina leans her cheek against Emma's palm and forces herself to smile. "You're going to be fine – I promise."

"I know." She stares into Emma's eyes and feels the devotion and hope shining out of them as it seeps into her soul and warms every inch of her. "I know," she repeats, louder and stronger. "I'll drive you back to the station?"

Emma shrugs one shoulder, and they hold onto each other for just a moment longer before Regina finally straightens and clears her throat. Taking Emma's hand, she steps out of the restroom and into a hallway teeming with reporters.

It's going to be fine, she repeats over and over in her head.

And it is.

"Alright," says Sara, "their bags are packed and Emma's finished buckling in the car seats. I guess this is it."

"I guess it is," Regina agrees. "Elsa, honey, why don't you say goodbye to Sara?" She doesn't bother to ask Anna the same question – the eleven-month-old is sound asleep in the social worker's arms and will probably be out for a while. Anna, it seems, has two settings now that she's learned to crawl: hyperactive and dead to the world.

"W'gina," Elsa asks seriously, "are we weally going to live at your house?"

"Yes, really."

"Like a sleepover?"

"No, this time It'll be a forever sleepover," Regina replies. "That's okay with you, right?"

"Yes!" Elsa exclaims, diving into Regina's arms and grinning widely. She seems mildly sorry to part with Sara ("Come visit anytime," Regina offers), but she spends the entire car ride chattering excitedly about all of the books they're going to read together, and Regina allows herself to hope that no one involved will be too traumatized by the transition. Kids are resilient, Hopper had told her. I have no doubt that these girls will be able to thrive with a stable environment and your support.

"Hey, kid," Emma says lightly as they pull up in front of Regina's building, "you've got some grandparents and a sort of older brother-slash-friend in that apartment who are really excited to meet you, but if it's too much, I can tell them to go away. What do you think?"

"Gwandparents?" Elsa asks curiously, which Emma takes as a yes.

"They're a little bit crazy," Regina warns, "but I think you'll like them."

"Okay," the little girl says agreeably.

They open the door to as much chaos as three people could have created on their own – Cora and both Henrys throwing confetti, with a huge princess cake set out on the table and a huge, homemade "Happy Adoption Day" banner adorning the wall. "Welcome home!" Emma exclaims.

Elsa spends most of the evening with her head buried in Regina's sweater, occasionally allowing Henry to speak to her, while Anna babbles happily at everyone as they pass her around. "This is your family," Emma tells the beaming baby. "Enjoy their weirdness."

At night, when Cora and Big Henry have finally left, Regina tries to stifle a yawn and asks the girls, "Are you ready to get set up in your new room?"

Anna, who's apparently already asleep again, responds with a snore, but Elsa whimpers and protests, "But we having a sleepover!"

"Yeah, W'gina, we having a sleepover," Emma says, pretending to pout. Elsa giggles. "C'mon, Henry – do you want to get in on this?"

"I don't recall inviting any of you to a sleepover," Regina mutters, watching amusedly as Emma carries Anna into her bedroom with Henry dragging Elsa by the hand behind her. The four of them sprawl across Regina's bed, and Emma looks up, smirking, as she pats the small space next to her.

"Come on, W'gina, it's really comfortable here!" Emma whines.

Regina briefly considers getting her camera to capture their first major family moment, but in the end she decides to enjoy it for what it is, curling against Emma's side as Elsa dives on top of her.

"What do you think we should do at this sleepover?" she asks, running her finger along the smooth, warm skin of Anna's cheek. "Watch a movie? Play a game?"

"How about some reading?" Emma suggests. "I think Henry wrote a special bedtime story just for the occasion."

Clearing his throat dramatically, Henry kneels on the mattress and puffs out his chest as he begins to read. "Once upon a time, there were two princesses named Elsa and Anna..."

"This is a pretty nice place," Cora observes, looking around the living room of the new apartment with poorly disguised shock. "Did you two really buy this?"

"We did," Regina confirms. "We'll be moving in as soon as we're done setting things up."

"How did you –"

"Mother, just because we're not fabulously wealthy, it doesn't mean we're poor either!" she exclaims irritably, rolling her eyes. Then she stops and forces herself to breathe.

Her mother is trying.

She's really, truly trying her hardest to contain her judgment.

And it's working... for the most part. The girls love their grandma, and she's been incredibly helpful in taking care of them while Regina has been busy renovating the new place and working part time with a state commission on police corruption after Sid (according to rumors, anyway) had personally recommended her to the governor, even cutting back her hours at the firm the way she'd always refused to do when Regina was a child.

Apparently, being a grandmother can change someone, though seventy years of rigidity can't be reversed all at once.

"Okay, Miss Anna, I'm going to put you down now," Cora informs the squirming toddler in her arms. Setting Anna down on the floor, she kisses Regina on the cheek and says, "I'll just say goodbye to Henry and then see myself out. Your father will bring Elsa back in about half an hour. He says he's taking her to the Disney store after her appointment."

Regina groans. "I told him not to spoil her," she complains under her breath. "We won't have enough closet space for all of her princess dresses."

"I don't think he can help himself," Cora chuckles, rolling her eyes. "I haven't seen him this happy since you were in preschool. Don't worry, she'll turn out okay – you did."

"Say bye to Grandma," Regina whispers to Anna before she can stumble away. She's not moving particularly gracefully yet, but she's fast.

"Bye Gamma!"

After a quick peek into Henry's new room, where he and Emma are supposed to be painting a fairytale-themed mural on the wall, Cora excuses herself at the same time Emma, wearing a paint-splattered smock, appears in the hall, a flat box clutched behind her back. "Welcome home, beautiful," she says, lifting Anna up by the waist and swinging her around with one arm until she squeals gleefully, before softly kissing Regina's lips. "How's the new job?"

"Still fine," Regina replies, taking just a second to let her head rest against Emma's shoulder. "How's the new apartment."

"It's good," says Emma, although the face she pulls says otherwise. "We're experiencing some minor technical difficulties on the painting – someone's perfectionist tendencies started coming into play."

"Let Henry paint the mural the way he wants," Regina teases. "He's the one who's going to be staring at the mistakes every night."

Every night.

It almost gives her chills to say it.

"Speaking of things to look at every night, I... um, I may have rescued something from your old apartment. It's not much, and we don't have to put it up anywhere, but I just thought..."

Voice trailing off helplessly, Emma thrusts the box at Regina and chews her lower lip. Confused, Regina slowly unwraps it, one eye on Anna to ensure no more cans of paint get overturned in this renovation process. She gasps when she opens it, feeling a lump rise in her throat. "Emma, you didn't... how did you get this?"

"Turns out your dad never throws anything away – he had it in the basement. Is – are you alright?"

Blinking back tears, Regina nods. Staring up from the frame is a toothy cartoon horse, cut from the wallpaper she'd selected for the nursery all those years ago.

"I thought, you know, it might be hard for you to leave him behind," Emma mumbles. "'Cause you said...you know, at the old apartment. And this way, you don't have to."

She doesn't have words. She doesn't know if there are words. Thankfully, Emma seems to understand and just silently holds Regina until she can speak again.

"Do you mind if we put this in our bedroom?" she asks hesitantly. "I – if you don't want –"

"Yeah, no, I don't mind. Put it wherever you think is best," Emma replies. "I think our bedroom would be perfect. I – actually, I was afraid you'd try to put a portrait of a real horse in there, and I don't think I could handle looking at one while I was trying to sleep. This is much better."

"Idiot," Regina mutters, silencing the other woman's babbling with a firm kiss. "Now let's see how that mural's coming along."

"Come on, Anna, let's go see your brother's mess of a room. It's already a disaster and he hasn't even moved into it yet," laughs Emma, holding Anna's hand tightly as the little girl toddles along beside her so she can't wander off. "And no playing in the wet paint."

Regina can see the makings of a scene beginning to emerge on a wall that had previously been a rather depressing shade of "hospital mint." There are some outlines of trees, a few sparkles that are maybe supposed to be fairies, and what looks to be the outline of a person on a horse all starting to take shape.

"I think it looks wonderful," she says, smiling proudly at Henry. "The only problem is that it's not done yet."

"Not my fault," he grumbles with a glare at Emma. "Someone has an awful lot of opinions for the amount of brushstrokes she takes."

"And what do you have to say to that, Detective Swan?" Regina scolds, as she carefully lifts a giggling Anna up and away from the purple paint she'd been about to stick her hand in.

Emma shrugs and returns to her work, flicking a glob of paint at Henry when she thinks he's not looking. "Mom, this stuff isn't washable!" he protests.

"Yeah, that's why you're wearing a smock, doofus," she replies, smirking, and pokes her paintbrush under his arm.

Henry squeals, "That tickles!" Eyes flashing with mischief, he paints a long line down Emma's back and cackles gleefully.

"Henwy's painting!" Anna cheers, clapping her hands.

"Yes, he is, but not where he should be." Regina checks her watch and wonders if they'll have made any progress by the time Neal arrives to take Henry back to New York.

Probably not, but she supposes they'll all survive.

"Regina, help!" begs Henry, ducking behind her just as Emma dives in with her brush, smearing paint across Regina and Anna's cheeks by accident. Henry gasps before letting out a nervous giggle. "You're in so much trouble!" he taunts, darting away to hide behind his only half assembled bedframe, but Regina can't stop laughing.

Finally, after so many years without hope, she thinks she can finally see a happy ending on the horizon.

No, not a happy ending. Her story isn't over, and for once, she's grateful for that. Grateful and excited to start the next chapter.

"Regina!" Emma gasps.

"No, shh..." Regina whispers in between kisses, placing her free hand over Emma's lips. "Henry's sleeping on the other side of that wall."

"Do not—" Emma hisses "—talk about-our children—when your fingers are inside of me."

"What do you want me to talk about, then?" she asks mischievously. "Tax returns?"

"Regina!" Chest heaving, Emma manages to wriggle away from the wall and push Regina off of her just long enough to ask, "Can we at least do it on the other side of the room? I don't want any... interruptions."

Regina smirks. "Me neither. I want you all to myself. Which is why," she explains, nipping playfully at Emma's lower lip while her fingers tease their way around her clit, never applying more than frustratingly gentle pressure before easing up, "you need to hurry up and come before the nightmare rush starts."

"That would be much easier if you'd stop playing with your food before you eat it," Emma grits out, back arching as Regina thrusts again and pushes her against the closet door.

"Where's the fun in that?" Regina complains, but she obligingly sinks down to the floor until she's kneeling before Emma, grinning up like a madwoman with eyes so dark and lustful that Emma has to grab the doorknob so her knees don't give out then and there. "Very wet," she observes with a satisfied nod as her fingers wrap around the insides of Emma's thighs, and Emma feels a strangled sound that's about halfway between a laugh and a moan issue from her throat as she feels Regina's tongue brush between her legs.

"Come on, Regina," she grunts, trying desperately to keep her voice to a whisper. "Please just fuck me before someone wakes up."

They've been interrupted before, and it was far from enjoyable.

"Maybe, since you said please," Regina teases, and Emma thinks she feels her eyes roll to the back of her head as Regina's tongue slips back inside her, and her fingers curl around Regina's sweaty brown locks in a futile attempt to keep herself upright as her body jerks with pleasure, out of her control.

When Emma comes, she quickly presses a hand to her mouth to silence her moan, and she sinks to the floor beside Regina, struggling to catch her breath. "New apartment successfully broken in, finally. No interruptions," she whispers as she pulls Regina against her and somehow brings both of their bodies crashing down to the floor.

"No interruptions," agrees Regina, pressing a quick kiss against Emma's lips and smiling. Emma rests her hand just above Regina's hip, thumb lightly rubbing the scar on there as she stares into Regina's eyes and thinks about how lucky she is. They lie there for about two minutes, unwilling to move, until a high-pitched cry pierces the still night air, and Regina sighs.

"Perfect timing," she mutters as she stands up and pulls on her robe. "I'm getting good at this." Emma watches Regina's back guiltily as she strides out of the room, gray fleece fluttering behind her. Not enough time to return the favor, she internally scolds herself.

Hours later, when they're finally in bed, fingers intertwined over the girls' sleeping bodies, Emma says softly, "I owe you next time."

Regina yawns, eyes half shut, and murmurs, "We're not keeping score. I love you."

"I love you, too." Very carefully so as not to wake the kids, Emma pushes up on one arm and leans over to kiss Regina's temple. "G'night, family," she whispers before snuggling back under the blankets and letting herself finally drift off to sleep.

"Alright," Regina says, panting, "we're just a mile from the finish. We should be seeing our family any minute now."

Emma is breathing too heavily to reply, but there's a certain giddiness that rises within her chest when Regina says "our family" that helps her power on, in spite of her blistered feet and aching knee. It's a year later than they'd originally planned, but she and Regina are finally running the New York City Marathon, and there's a huge crowd waiting for them around the next corner.

"There they are!" Henry shouts. "Elsa – there's our moms!"

He and Elsa, who's sitting on top of Neal's shoulders, start cheering wildly, while Anna looks up from her warm nest in Cora's arms like she has no idea what's happening. Next to them, Big Henry is holding a sign with Tamara's help, and Locksley, Roland on his back, lets out a shrill whistle. David and Mary Margaret are a few feet past the others, just back from their honeymoon – Emma has no idea where the hell Mary Margaret got her hands on rainbow-colored pom-poms. She laughs and tries to disguise her limp as they run past their shockingly large fan club, but Regina shoots her a worried look in between blowing kisses to the kids.

"You okay?" she mutters as soon as they're out of everyone's sight.

Emma groans. "Yeah, I'll make it. I'm gonna need, like, three burgers and a pitcher of beer when this is over, though. Maybe a massage, too."

"Not me," Regina jokes. "In fact, I think I'll just keep going all the way back to Boston."

"You do that. Call me when your runner's high wears off and you're stranded on the side of the highway."

Regina checks her watch and grins. "We're well below the cut-off to qualify for Boston," she reports, "and Henry promised to write me another Queen Regina story if I beat you."

"No kidding," Emma replies with a breathless laugh. "He promised to get straight A's in all his classes except gym if I beat you."

Regina picks up the pace and Emma follows beat behind – she's a stronger sprinter, but her legs are shot after so many miles and Regina's got years more training under her belt. Still, she manages to pull ahead about a hundred meters from the finish, just before she hears Regina half-laugh, half-wheeze and practically trip over her own feet in an attempt to get even.

She grabs Emma's hand and they finish the race together.

And that's all, folks. Thank you so much for all of the love and support you've given me and this story over the last eight months. Writing this fic stretched my comfort zone in countless different ways, and it was all of you lovely people holding my hand through the hard parts that made finishing it possible.

Be sure to let me know what you think. Also, if you would like to see more of this universe, feel free to check out my TAPAS Prompt series (on FF and Tumblr) and message me if there's anything more you'd like to see. Thanks again for reading! –janemac24