A/N: This is a fun, short, Swanqueen story that is based off the classic, A Christmas Carole. This story takes place in season four, right after Robin crosses the town line with Marian and Roland. You all remember right? A time when Hook was chasing Emma and Emma was chasing Regina everywhere to make sure she was okay and Regina was obsessing over finding the author. This is right before the Queen's of Darkness show up. I hope everyone enjoys this Christmas story!!
A rapid knock beating down on her office door informs her that only one person is twitching anxiously on the other side. Her upper lip curls into an irritated sneer, but she keeps her eyes straining on the intricate curling ink and vivid illustrations from whomever this unidentified author maybe.
Her cruel ignorance to the blonde outside doesn't effect the obtuse woman the least bit. The frosted glass door is soon flinging wide open, revealing a wide-eyed, cheerful woman who is bouncing her way toward her desk with a shimmering grin.
A long drawn out sigh demands her attention, forcing her tired eyes to flick toward the bright smile slowly morphing into a sad frown. A design that is usually etched permanently around this woman's mouth, even if she doesn't realize the action.
"Still burying your nose in that book, huh?" Emma inquires with annoyance lacing her daft statement just as she places a red paper cup down on the desk with a white plastic lid. Regina's eyes flick toward the offered beverage while one eyebrow crawls up her forehead in a silent question. "Coffee. Black." And with that, her eyes immediately drop back down to the page decorated with Snow's chubby little baby face, peering up at her with thick tears clinging to those dark green eyes.
"What do you need, Miss Swan," she exasperates and slowly turns the thick page, knowing nothing good will come from her staring at that face filled with utter disappointment from their cruel world.
"Come on, Regina, you need a break," the sheriff declares as she sinks down into the chair directly in front of her desk. Regina chooses to ignore the rude assumption to claim that seat without a formal invitation and allows her fingers to trace the elaborate wedding dress her mother forced her into for King Leopold.
"No, what I need is some privacy, so I may actually accomplish something. How does anyone expect me to find this author, if everyone and their mother keep interrupting my work?" She snaps, completely submitting to the agitation creeping up her spine and settling in her anxious nerves from constantly coming up short on this mission.
Emma sighs again, slumping further into her chair while she fiddles with the zipper to her brown leather jacket. At least this winter accessory is far more acceptable than her tacky red leather jacket. This woman really has a knack for choosing the most hideous colors for leather. She rolls her eyes at the thought, she's sure it's not even real leather.
"Listen," her friend softly begins, and the concern evident in her tone is enough for brown eyes to finally meet hers. There's a faint pout pursing around her lips while those bright green eyes appear darker than normal. "Henry's worried about you," she expresses, but her fidgeting fingers and bouncing knees whisper a different tale. "Tomorrow evening Granny is hosting a Christmas Eve party at the diner. Why don't you put this operation on hold and come out. Enjoy yourself."
She purses her lips as she contemplates the offer. It's been so long since she has actually celebrated or enjoyed Christmas. As her mind flicks through every Christmas spent curled up with her baby boy, the images abruptly stop around age nine when both their worlds came tumbling down around them.
Henry was eight when he became curious about is father. He was relentless with his constant bricks of cold, hard questions. One after another he laid them out between their relationship, piling them up until there was a permanent wall between them, to where she could no longer reach out to her son. Finally, she broke down, hoping she could break through the barrier and confessed her secret about his adoption. The final brick that was set into place and kept her son away from her for good.
Henry was eight and angry at the world. He could never accept that his birth mother could toss him aside. He blamed himself, he blamed her, but never once did he blame his birth mother. He grew distant, cold, continuously acting out which resulted in her inner demons coming out to play. She thought the only way to get through to him was fight fire with fire. They fought constantly, each one always pushing for the upper hand, until one day she lost control and sent him to Dr. Hopper in hopes someone could help with his poor attitude.
After that, Henry ran away, bringing home a very confused Emma Swan, and they never shared a Christmas together again. The first year, he was living with Emma and the Charmings and there was no present large enough to convince him to spend an evening with the Evil Queen over the heroes. The second year, he was living with Emma, in New York, under false memories. Memories of wonderful, extravagant, Christmases with a certain blonde, when in fact those holidays were spent with her, those were her memories.
This year, she has faith in her relationship with her son and she knows he will want to spend time with her. However, after everything that has happened with Robin and every other miserable thing that has occurred in her pathetic life, she's not really feeling the happy-go-lucky Christmas spirit.
"Regina," Emma gently murmurs, reaching across the desk and carefully closing the storybook, cautious not to startle her. "Please, give this a rest. Enjoy the holiday. After Christmas, I promise we will dive right back into Operation Mongoose, with clear and rested minds." The corner of her mouth quirks upward for a half smile and she almost reciprocates the gesture, almost.
"How could I possibly enjoy this holiday season knowing my bloodthirsty fate is just lurking around every Christmas tree, ready to attack?"
"You're being a bit dramatic."
"And you're being just downright irritating," she quips right back, pulling the heavy book closer toward her chest as a shield. "Of course, you're in a chipper mood. You have your parents, friends, that pirate that is now your permanent shadow and our son. What could you possibly know about celebrating this cheerful holiday alone?" She recklessly tosses in the sheriff's face, maybe too aggressively.
For a split second, she winces from her ever growing volume, but this is Emma Swan, and never has she ever backed down from a challenge, especially offered by the mayor herself.
The savior straightens her posture like a rod was just shoved down her curved spine. She squares her shoulders while her eyes squint in Regina's direction with rage pulsating in her black pupils. She leans forward, just a fraction, as her finger pokes at the desk like that piece of furniture was the one who just insulted her.
"Don't you ever accuse me of not understanding what it really feels like to be alone on this holiday. Did you forget, Madam Mayor, that I grew up alone, in the foster system, with no parents, no friends, no real human contact? I believed in Santa until I was three, when my adoptive parents tossed me so carelessly back into the system. After that, I never believed in Santa again, because I knew if there was a Santa Claus, then there was no way he would ignore my wish every year for parents. So, don't tell me, I don't know what it's like to be alone on this holiday, because until you wake up every Christmas knowing there's no presents under a tree for you and not one person to actually share the day with, then you have no idea what it's really like to be alone on Christmas," she coldly explains, huffing and puffing while gritting her teeth as her eyes flash murderously.
"Em-Emma-"
"Forget it," she harshly retorts while springing to her feet. "I have to pick up Henry anyways from Gold's shop. Maybe he found something that will tear you apart from that book for more than five minutes," she grumbles under her breath, but Regina still hears every word. The sheriff reaches the door, gripping the knob particularly tight before she hesitates and sighs. Her eyes soften, glancing over her shoulder to meet Regina's, conveying her sincerity. "I really hope you think about the party...Hen-Henry will really be happy if you at least make an appearance," and without another word spoken, Emma closes the door softly behind her and leaves the office, boots trudging away with an extra added weight than normal.
XXXXXXXXX
Dwarves are stretching from shiny silver ladders, tangled in a mess of vibrant colors as they string up lights across buildings down Main Street. Snow is bundled up in a thick wool coat with a knit hat and a silly puffy ball flopping on top. She's visibly shivering, even though Regina is down the street, she can still see the little tremors as the woman points and guides the dwarves through their task. David is busy himself, wrapping a light post with dark green garland, a broad smile cutting into his rosy cheeks.
When the hell did she give these idiots permission to decorate the town?
"Regina!" Snow exclaims when she catches her movement halfway down the busy street. How this woman always seems to spot her from a mile a way is beyond her. Regina thrusts her gloved hands into her pockets and angrily shuffles toward the glowing woman. "What do you think? More lights, right?" She hums, becoming lost in thought as she inspects the bulbs lighting up the town's street.
"I believe you forgot the light switch in your own head," Regina deadpans, causing an expression of utter shock to grace Snow's pale face.
"Regina!" She scolds, but her voice never did hold that authoritative tone, it always sounds more like a shrill shriek of shock instead.
"Snow!" She mocks through wide eyes. "I don't remember granting my permission on defacing my town."
"Where is your holiday spirit, Regina? It's about time we liven up our home."
"Well, do it in the privacy of your home, not my town," the mayor remarks coldly as she watches Leroy's foot teeter on the edge of the very top step of the ladder.
"For once, we are not being attacked by a villain. We should embrace that and celebrate to the fullest."
"I'm sorry if my heartbreak is such an inconvenience to your holiday cheer, dear," she rolls her eyes as Leroy stretches just a little further.
"There was a time, Regina, when you used to love Christmas," Mary Marget sing-songs and beams brighter than the millions of lights glowing wildly around them.
"I don't recall," she numbly replies.
"Stop being such a Scrooge," the younger woman demands, slamming her foot against the cement like a perpetual child, reminding Regina so much of a time when Snow was ten, holding her breath and stomping until she won her way.
Suddenly, Leroy slips from the ladder, his hand still clinging to the thin string of lights like that could possibly hold his weight. "Son of a!" With a quick flick of her wrist, she engulfs the drunk in a cloud of purple smoke and settles him down firmly on the sidewalk. "What the-" Leroy pauses, patting himself frantically as he tries to piece together what just occurred.
"Oh my," Snow gasps and rests her hand upon her most loyal dwarf. "Are you alright?" Her head jerks back in the mayor's direction. "You saved his life, Regina."
"Maybe not such a Scrooge after all, huh Snow?" She taunts before spinning on her heels and calmly walking in the direction of her mansion.
"Thanks sister!" Grumpy calls out, but she simply ignores the leader of the lollipop guild and continues her journey home.
XXXXXXXXX
She enters her ostentatious mansion with a heavy heart, knowing despite the many vast rooms, each one is depressingly empty from any type of life form. She swallows down the dread, heartache and eerie feeling of always being alone and closes the door behind her, hiding herself from the world spinning around her.
She is just kicking off her heels when there's a rapid knock against the front door. She rolls her eyes, knowing all too well who came to seek her out just to annoy her. She inhales one sharp breath and rips open her front door while exhaling her frustrations.
"Miss Swan," she breathes out like the name was sitting on her chest and crushing her windpipes.
"I'm not letting you drown in misery," Emma grumbles, pushing her way passed the mayor and inviting herself in. Regina sighs once again and closes the door behind her. "Meet company," she introduces while holding up a bottle of peppermint schnapps prompting Regina's face to grimace. "What?" Emma quickly turns the bottle to scan the label like maybe she is missing something. "It's festive."
"I'll stick with my apple cider, thank you," she rejects the peppermint alcohol as kindly as possible and brushes passed the intrusive woman. "Would you care for some as well? Or would you prefer your festive sorority like drink?" She teases, padding down the hall to retrieve her homemade apple cider.
"Uh...I'll take yours, I guess?" Her friend murmurs while she stares at the clear liquid in confusion.
Regina quickly returns with a bottle of her best creation and two glass tumblers just waiting to be filled. She gently places both glasses down and pops the lid to her bottle while Emma tumbles onto the couch, reminding her so much of their son. The amber liquid pours down like a peaceful waterfall, filling each glass halfway. She replaces the lid and then proceeds to offer the sheriff a glass.
Emma smiles up at her and whispers her, thank you, while Regina nods curtly in return. She smooths out her skirt as she elegantly perches herself on the edge of the couch.
"Look," Emma blurts out at the same time Regina rushes out, "I wanted..."
A shy smile tugs at the corner of Emma's thin mouth while she nods for Regina to proceed and slowly sips her drink. "I wanted to apologize. I shouldn't have lashed out at you in my office, but I won't apologize for the way that I feel. I am hurting right now and trying to force me into the holiday spirit is only going to dampen my mood even more."
"I'm sorry," Emma's fingers strum nervously against her beverage while her eyes stay focused on the golden liquid settling in her glass. "I didn't mean to provoke you, I was just trying to be a good friend," she meekly replies, her shoulders tensing from the embarrassing recollection of earlier that day.
Regina knows this woman hates speaking about her past in the foster system, and she knows inevitably Emma loses her temper and control when those memories resurface.
"I appreciate the concern-"
"Will you at least come to the party?" Emma quickly interjects her words as her bright green eyes filled with hope dart toward Regina's. "It would mean a lot...to Henry."
"I will think about it," she quickly responds, because as much as she loathes the idea of spending an evening crammed in that tiny diner with drunk fairy tale characters, she would never want to intentionally hurt her son.
"Great," Emma cheerfully replies, placing her glass down onto the coffee table. "I should be going, my parents will be home any minute and we all know how much they love family dinners."
She rolls her eyes like the formality is rather ridiculous, but Regina sees the glimmer of excitement in those green eyes and she knows deep down, Emma couldn't be happier. It's what the child inside of her always craved, family time.
"Of course," she nods politely and follows her lead, standing tall and escorting her friend to the door.
"Hey, before I forget," Emma pauses just before she has the chance to open the door. "Henry and I were talking, maybe this year we could come up with a plan for the holidays. Maybe, I have him Christmas Eve and then I could drop him off Christmas Day around lunch? I don't know, just a thought," she shrugs and quickly fumbles for the doorknob before Regina has a chance. "Alright, well I guess I'll see you later," she happily says as she steps out into the bitter cold.
"Goodnight, Swan."
"Night, Regina," the corky blonde calls over her shoulder while she spins her keychain around her finger, practically skipping down the walkway toward the glowing yellow bug.
Regina gently closes her front door, resting her forehead against the cool wood. Alone again. Another deep sigh that burns her chest and fills her limbs with an unsettling sensation, breaks through her lips.
No matter how much that blonde may irritate her, a part of her wishes she would have stayed longer. She hates her empty house. She hates the loneliness that lurks around every corner. She hates the thought of going to bed alone, yet again. She hates the idea of waking up to this miserable life like every other day. What she really hates most of all, is this hole in her heart and every time she finds a cure for it, its ripped away from her fingertips, leaving her even colder on the inside.