OQ Christmas Advent

Merry Christmas to my fellow OutlawQueener's! I wish you all the merriest of holidays, filled with silver bells, christmas twinkling lights, and stuffed to the brim with eggnog. All the best this holiday season my loves!

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She's never had a Christmas quite like this. So beyond overwhelmingly full, stuffed to the brim every single day with some new festivity, another town fair with far too many knicks knacks to buy, gingerbread cookies smothered in icing, the Merry Men's impromptu carolling group, Granny's candy cane hot chocolate stand, all of it. It's bursting at the town seams. Every store strung with colored lights, lamp posts glowing in star shaped decals, sparkling snow tree tops lining the roadways, a constant, quiet humming of Silver Bells everywhere she goes. It's magical. Really and truly beyond wonderful. Having a family to share it with has just made it that much more so.

In the early years during the curse, Christmas was almost non existent, barely a color lit tree or jingling of bells to be heard. She had no one to celebrate with, and had truly felt empty inside. Besides no one would want to share holidays with her regardless.

It changed when Henry came along. The sudden need to give him absolutely everything, treat him to any desire, prove to everyone and maybe even herself she was a damn good mother. But now, well the holiday doesn't seem quite so forced, or materialistic anymore.

She finds herself wanting to wake up early and make pancakes in the shape of snowmen, is more than willinging to walk around the shops to find just one more thing, even if she's already been inside a hundred times, was actually thrilled when Henry brought out four sets of matching white, red and green waffle cloth pajamas for them all to wear, tacky as ever, adorned with threaded candy canes, presents, and christmas trees. Her little family, the newest cheesy picture found in the holiday catalogue and she utterly adores it.

Robin in his own right has become Mr. Clause reincarnate. The beacon of Christmas in their town. He now knows the words to nearly every carol, wears a dopey red Santa hat at all times to which she might roll her eyes at, when he walks into her office, red fuzz and white fluff ball bouncing atop his head, it's cute, he's cute and has found that the simplest way to wipe off her unamused look, happens to be mistletoe. Regardless of who is around, he is there, holding it proudly above them both, and it's not that she minds really, has found a far bit of delight in the tradition to be completely honest; now that she has someone to share it with, even if her boys make loud protests and screwed up icky faces each time. She likes it. Kissing him because she can, because he wants to and apparently can't go without bussing her lips at least ten times in a day, maybe by noon if he is so wishing.

Yes, Robin certainly has taken Christmas traditions to heart, though not without a small bump.

He, alongside the Merry Men were initially horrified at the idea of cutting trees down, utterly abhorred and shocked that people wished to "murder nature" just for their own pleasure. It was uncouth, grotesque, a travesty of the highest offence. That was until the littlest of Merry Men had stood in the middle of camp all trembly lower lip and watery chocolate brown eyes over the fact "Santa" would have no where to put his presents if he didn't have a tree.

Resistance wasn't an option after that.

Little John had formed a committee that very night, swearing they were to be the only ones touching the trees, as apparently only they know how to do it correctly. Soon enough her living room was stuffed with the largest pine ever to grace her home. All twinkling lights, perfectly restrung after everyone had been tucked away in bed full on eggnog, red and gold balls hung symmetrically about the branches, a light winding of tinsel (which had taken her a good hour to try and fix after Roland and Henry's tinseltown fight, her poor evergreen caught in the middle, eventually giving up and using her magic to discard the silver cluster bombs), delicate iridescent white garland twine for extra sparkle, all finished and capped off bright beautiful star glowing warmly on top.

Her entire home smells like forest now. Rich evergreen soaked into every single crevasse and cushion.

She loves it.

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It's a week before Christmas, and Regina, Roland and Henry stroll down the snowy street, sipping down candy cane hot chocolate, musing happily at the decorations on each house as they make their way to the fair, another fair, but this one is special, has a certain secret guest waiting just beyond the green archways, red velvet carpet, and twinkling lights. A specific someone, her youngest boy hasn't stopped babbling on about since Henry read him his first ever christmas story. Everything was "Santa this. And Santa that. Where does he live? How does he know where we are? Why didn't he come in the Enchanted Forest? What are reindeer? How does he fly? Is he a fairy?" It was endless, beautiful, adorable, and nonstop.

Roland doesn't know who they are coming to see, they've all kept it hushed, though he has asked more than once where Papa is, a question Regina quickly deflects with some silly amicable excuse he swallows without issue, more intrigued with the extra whipped cream in his cup than anything. Sugar high later be damned.

They walk around for a little while, Regina picking up a few more small stocking stuffers as her boys run over to the apple bobbing stand. She snags a new leather wallet for Robin, wool hat to replace Roland's rather tattered current one, and a small pendant for Snow, never once questioning, but rather nonsensically chuckling to herself over the fact the once "Evil Queen" is currently fawning in apprehension over which piece of jewellry to buy the girl who had "ruined her life". The pearl beaded bracelet? Or the emerald drop necklace? Certainly not a conundrum she'd have guessed for herself years ago to be in.

Definitely the emerald, it matches Snow's eyes.

Hiding her newly found trinkets in her purse, she joins them, unable to hold back the uncharacteristic giggle that's found it's way into her life, at Roland's drenched curls, soaked and pasted to his forehead as he grins up at her, apple clamped between teeth, Henry frustratingly still in search of his first in the water below.

She snaps a quick picture, both in phone and in memory. "Roland, I think there is someone special here we should go meet."

The apple drops, splashing back into the wooden barren, "Who?!"

Regina smiles, brushing back the messy mop of hair, he needs a haircut whether Robin wants him to get one or not, "Let's go find out shall we?" Her gloved hand is quickly latched onto as they munch on the crisp sweet apples, stepping between the snow covered stands and cheery crowd, if she cranes hard enough, surely that's Will and Alan ringing out Silver Bells somewhere nearby.

She motions for Henry to grab the camera, wanting to capture the moment as they walk around the corner, her heart melting at the awestruck gasp her littlest boy let's out, abruptly cut short by a tiny squeal as he jumps up and down, clinging to her hand, "Mama! Mama! It's Santa! He's here! Can we go see him! Please Mama! Pleeeease!"

He's gone before she even gets the chance to say yes, or swallow the fact he just called her "Mama" in the middle of town where anyone could have heard, it's something he only does just before sleep takes him over, a light whisper that echoes in her heart.

Watching as he gallops between the crowd, bouncing uncontrollably upon reaching the entrance, Regina's shoulder is knocked gently by Henry, who is beaming at her, knowing exactly what has her eyes shining with tears, "Come on, Mama." He smiles, wrapping an arm around her waist with a quick squeeze before he starts off in front of her.

"He's right there!" Roland shrieks, gripping the candy cane entrance way as though he is about to float away should there be nothing to hold him here. Thank God Henry was smart enough to take a video instead of a picture. This is certainly a montage she is going to be watching over and over again.

Bending down to his level, hugging around his tiny coat bundled waist, she whispers into his damp hair, "Should we go say hello?" pressing a kiss to a chubby cheek as he curls back into her, vibrating as he leans into her warmth, nodding and not once taking his eyes off the white bearded, red cloaked, round bellied bowl full of jelly man that sits on the chair in front of them, currently involved in a deep discussion with another young boy on his lap.

They wait in line, listening to David prattle at Neal about listening, who is completely preoccupied with chewing on his stuffed reindeers ear instead of doing as his father requests. Granted the child is barely two, Regina herself still finds the shepherd a bit irritating herself and that's after 35 years. Smirking to no one but herself with a roll of the eyes as David tries to pry away the soggy toy, much to Neal's outright dismay, she feels Roland tug on her hand, directing her attention back his way.

"What are you gonna ask Santa for, Ro?" Henry points the camera to capture the moment, but nothing happens. Not a peep. Regina frowns, it's completely unlike her son to suddenly fall shy, especially around her and Henry, and even more so now, what with the white bearded man he's been praying to see for weeks, now just feet away. She hears said man give a hearty chuckle, wishing Aurora, Phillip and their littlest "A Very Merry Christmas", her heart swelling at the smiles painted on the two children's faces as the wave bye.

Santa turns, righting his hat and fixing his belt as he catches sight of Roland, huddled behind Regina's legs. She looks down, looks up, around to Henry, vexed as to what is going on, but tiny fingers curl into the hem of her coat sleeve just a fraction tighter and that has her moving into mommy mode.

"Do you want me to go with you?"

Mhmm, he nods, gripping her hand tightly as she slowly guides him up the three red steps, feeling the small hint of resistance with every inch covered, all the way to where the man himself awaits, still smiling. She feels Roland stiffen slightly as the distance continues to close, his body pressing tight behind her legs as they come to a stop.

She sends a quick blushing smile to Santa, who simply chuckles, nods in understanding and gets down on his knees. "Hello, young sir." a black leather glove extended out. Roland says nothing, just tucks further back behind Regina, who is frankly bewildered by the sudden nervous apprehension of her usually effervescent, bubbly son.

He's not been this hesitant around anyone. Not since she found him silently following her through the dark castle back in the missing year, hiding in the shadows as she walked by, all wide eyed and timid in approach when she'd sit down in the middle of a silent empty hallway, ridiculous skirts puffing out about her, and smile. Nine days it had taken. Nine days of quiet hellos and colorful magic bubbles bouncing off the walls, exploding in sparkling dust around Roland, who'd chase them heroically, giggle and ask for more. And she'd do it, till her feet went numb and back started to ache, would sit on the dusty floors in her Castle, playing with a child she barely knew and while loathing his father, Roland was nothing but happiness in her incredibly dark world.

Eventually, distance had closed, and little fingers finally found her own.

"And what's your name?" Santa tries again, getting only silence back. An eyebrow arches up at her, blue eyes uncertain in their twinkling, she knows how special this moment is supposed to be, how much they have all been looking forward to it, had barely been able to bite her tongue on multiple occasions when questions were asked. But this isn't what she, or any of them, were expecting.

Regina turns, scooping Roland up into her arms, nuzzling his nose with her own, "What's wrong, baby?" Again just silence, but brown button eyes stare past her, full of wonder. "Don't you want to say hi to Santa?" Messy brown curls shake back and forth, a definite no. Bouncing him gently on her hip, she turns them both around, back to Santa, focusing Roland's attention hopefully on her as she hugs him tighter. "You don't have to be afraid. I'm right here. Can we try again?"

"No."

Well, she's stumped. Shrugs at Henry, who is still holding the camera, and Santa sitting behind them, watching the whole conversation curiously.

"Hey mom, is it okay if I go first?"

Regina nods, though unsure as to what Henry is doing, being fifteen and huffing himself down onto a fictional character's lap...well okay, maybe it's not that strange, not here, or for them at least. She shifts Roland till his legs wrap around her waist, chilly cold fingers tucking under her scarf, finding reprieve against her warm skin, apparently he lost his gloves. They sway back and forth as Henry rattles on about what he'd like for Christmas, flicking his eyes over to Roland every few moments, before throwing out a hefty laugh, hugging Santa with one arm.

Her heart glows, all of her, from tip to toe as she realizes what Henry is trying to do. Apparently it's working, Roland now sitting up in her arms instead of curled away in her coat. The idolization of a big brother in it's purest form. He wriggles, and she sets him down, but the two steps forward seem to be a bit too big, and Roland freezes on the spot again, watching Henry thank Santa in advance for the new Xbox he's hoping for, eyeing up Regina in the process with a cheeky grin, who smirks with a heavy roll of her eyes. The Xbox is already wrapped, perfectly if she might add, tailored sharp corners, symmetrical slices of tape, all tied together with silver ribbon and glittering bow, hidden in her closet, where she is certain he's hasn't found it yet. Her hiding spots have been changed at least four times in the past few years, having an outlaw, little outlaw and budding teenage outlaw have certainly made things a bit more difficult.

"Mom, you're turn!" He vacates Santa's lap, both beaming up at her as she takes his place, gingerly settling down on red velvet pants, taking in the entire costume head to toe. He looks adorable.

"Hello, Miss."

"Santa."

He smirks, running his knuckles between her shoulder blades gently. "And what would you like for Christmas?"

Roland frowns as Regina sits down on Santa's lap, without him, laying her arm across his shoulders, and hearing Santa ask if she has been a "Good Mayor this year?", to which Regina laughs, unbeknownst to Roland, pokes the man in the neck underneath the layer of fake white hair, and nods, proudly chiming out she has been a very good girl this year. He hears Santa ask what the "pretty lady" would like for Christmas, and that's end of it, there is no way he is going to let Regina take up all Santa's face time, not when he has written at least 10 letters to him, not Regina, she hasn't written even one!

He tugs Regina's coat, momentarily scowling at her for her blatant disregard of him.

"Oh, hello, would you like to sit with us now?" She croones.

He huffs, rolls his eyes as if it's the silliest question he's ever heard and clambers up into her lap, still careful to not quite touch Santa, this is close enough thank you very much, but it's sufficient, giving him adequate leverage so he can actually look into the blue eyes he's only seen in movies.

"Hi, Santa."

Regina's heart melts at how quiet Roland's greeting is, feeling his fingers curls around her scarf, if only he knew.

"Hello, young man. I was just talking to your lovely Mama — " Regina blushes at that, but stays quiet, combing through Roland's hair instead "— about what she would like for Christmas. But just between us..." he winks down at her littlest, bowing his bearded chin and dipping his head so the red hat blocks out Regina momentarily, "...has she been good enough to warrant diamond earrings? 'Cause she'd have had to be awfully good this year for those."

Roland snickers at that, nodding his head and Regina can do nothing but smile.

"You're sure?" Santa cocks an eyebrow, flicking his blue gaze up to Regina quickly before hunkering in closer to Roland. "Like, really, really sure?

"Yup."

"She hasn't forgotten to make your favorite dinner once?"

"Nope."

"Even chicken fajitas?"

"We had those yesterday!"

"Hmmmm." The man pulls on his white beard, stroking it thoughtfully in amusement, "Does she always tuck you into bed?"

"Yup!"

Santa eyes him up quizzically. "With a good night story?"

"Sometimes I even get two!" Roland leans in, chubby hands cupping around his mouth though his voice doesn't exactly follow the need to be hushed in secrecy right now, "She waits till Daddy falls asleep and then comes to read me another one."

"Oh ho! Does she now?"

"Mmhmmm."

"So she keeps secrets from your Papa?"

"Only some."

Regina cringes at Roland's honesty, granted there aren't many actual secrets she keeps from Robin, nothing important anyway.

"What would those be?"

"I can't say!"

"Why not?"

"Because, it's a secret."

"Ahhh, I see."

Good boy. She smiles

"But she did tell Daddy that it wasn't her who hid his arrows, but it was!"

Dammit.

"Ho! Well then!" Santa sits up, cocking an eyebrow at Regina from under the white fuzzy lined hat, the matching ball on top flopping about animatedly as his arms fold over his red covered chest, "Is that true, young lady?"

She tries to stifle her laughter into her glove, shaking her head no, but Roland is there to give her up, "Mama! Yes it was! You said you were gonna fry Papa if he shot another arrow at your apple tree." It only makes her laugh harder, tears coating her lashes and Santa shoots her a look, crinkling his eyes behind the beard. She's toast. "But then Henry said that was mean. So you just hid his arrows instead." Her shoulders shake as she bites down on the leather of the glove, apparently she is in trouble, big trouble, what with the glare Mr. Claus is sending her direction.

"Well, sounds like Regina should be on the naughty list."

She heats. Now is not the time. Later. Definitely Later.

"No! You can't!" Roland is on Santa's lap now, hands holding the older man face in desperation for her defence. "She's been good! I promise!"

Regina smirks as Santa takes a minute, "I don't know young man…" tapping a black leathered finger on the tip of his nose, "I swear! She makes me cookies, and gives the best snuggles, and she teached me how to tie my shoes like a big boy."

Playfully befuddled at what to do, she watches as Santa strokes through his long beard, humming in contemplation, firing Regina a quick wink as he lets out a rather ridiculously loud sigh, "I'll trust you on this, Roland."

"Yes!"

They laugh, her hand drumming along a red velvet shoulder that shifts a touch closer to her, and Regina can't think of a time she's been this happy, feeling as though she may float away, a hot air balloon steaming off love. It's just serene, sitting here, with a light snow falling about her little family, as Roland rattles off all the things they do together, their family; breakfast in bed, swings at the park, movie and pizza night on Tuesdays, even if Regina refuses to let them get extra cheese and stuffed crust except on special occasions. It's magnificent. Has her glowing from head to toe with adoration. Just feeling so damn grateful.

Bopping Roland on the nose, Santa's head tips down, the white moustache wiggling as he questions seriously, "And what would you like for Christmas, young man?" as though it is of the utmost importance.

Roland bites his lower lip, tugging a string on his coat as he looks up at Regina, then to Santa, Henry moving to hold the camera to catch the moment in action, quickly saving the pictures he's already taken, deciding maybe getting one or two of them framed would make a good gift for his parents as he waits for Roland's answer. He's asked for a toy train set, a new bow and arrow (Regina bought a plastic nerf version instead, much to Robin's chagrin), a new game to play with Henry on his new XBOX, the boys trading quick high fives at the second nod to the wishful gift, maybe a new pair of boots, and then he stops, bounces a bit on Santa's thighs, recoiling back into that nervous shy shell Regina's never seen before, one that has her squirming as to the reason why.

She's about to ask him whats wrong when his breath puffs out, a warm cloud that covers his face for a moment, "I'd like a baby brother or sister to play with."

Oh.

Well that she hadn't been expecting, the request has her stomach flipping and fluttering with a swirl of butterflies, as she gapes down at her son, who simply looks between the pair as if he's asked for new socks, all big brown button eyes, puppy dog staring up at her, melting her from the inside out, turning everything warm and gooey.

He's never once mentioned this. A new family member. Has been quite content, or at least she had thought, being the baby of the family, completely spoiled, snuggled and cuddled, but apparently she's missed the mark on this one. Well it certainly will make things easier.

She feels blue eyes bore into her own, a smile pulling against her lips as she flicks her gaze up to Santa who is doing nothing but grinning, her heart skipping merrily around her chest.

"Or a puppy!"

She laughs, shaking her head at the quick transition combing her fingers through his tangled mess of curls, planting a happy wet kiss to his forehead, which he immediately giggles at before hopping off Santa's lap with a hug. She watches her boys go, running off to another stand in search of more treasures certainly, her hands lacing between larger leather gloves. Her heart skips a beat as she turns back to Santa, who is eyeing her thoughtfully as his hand moves to her lower stomach, thumbing against the thick wool coat softly.

"A puppy huh?" She chuckles, pressing her own palm to the small swell, ever so new, completely unplanned and absolutely thrilling. They'd found out two weeks ago, that something she never thought she'd have was actually going to come true, their own little miracle.

"Think we can convince him for a new baby as a birthday gift instead?" Robin laughs, pulling her in a fraction tighter as she plays with the buttons on his coat. "The timing is almost perfect is it not? His birthday is the twenty second of July."

She hums, nods her head, "Mhmmm, and this little spud is due the eighteenth. Almost too good to be true I'd say." Her forehead knocks against his temple, eyes closing as she breathes in the chilled air. "You look fantastic as Santa by the way."

"You think?"

"It's perfect, Robin."

He smiles, squeezing her hip as she stands up, flicking the white fluffy ball on his hat.

"I'll see you at home, M'lady."

Regina leans in, tipping his red hat back, "Merry Christmas, Mr. Claus." Her lips press softly against his, through matching smiles as her fingers ruffle the white wispy beard. A vision of their future flashes through her mind of the two of them, old and grey, swaying on a porch swing, watching their grandkids run about the lawn, his fingers threading through her hair, her knuckles brushing against his cheek, dimples hidden by peppered stubble, deeper happy wrinkles adorning both their faces.

Joy warms her heart.

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Claus." Robin swirls his thumb over the small swell of her stomach again, and she smiles.

Their future is bright.

And she couldn't be happier.