A/N: So, I have about fifty things I should be doing (updating THESE DARK PATHS being one of them- sorry if you're waiting for that!) but, it's my friend's birthday this week, and her birthday request was to give me a word-prompt for a SQ one-shot (although, if you've read any of my other stories, you'll know that I really don't 'do' one-shots, and this will end up being a few chapters long). I'll try to get this story updated and posted over the course of the week, so updates shouldn't be as long a wait as usual!
This is set in a similar timeframe/ setting as my ATTIC and PAINT short-fics; towards the end of S2 but without the canon storyline of Cora and Hook arriving in Storybrooke.
I hope you enjoy this intro chapter! Please review :)
"Henry, can I come in?"
Regina asks, standing in the doorway to her son's bedroom as he lies bent over his comic; sprawled out on his stomach on the bed with the back of his head to her.
Silence.
Thinning her lips with an irritable sigh, the Queen crosses the threshold without invitation and ignores Henry's insolence; fully aware that she has his attention in spite of his best efforts to pretend that she doesn't exist.
You're just grounded, dear, it's not as though the world is ending!
Not at all, and she would go so far as to say that three days punishment could be considered a rather light sentence given the cost of replacing the sitting room window. If it had been an accident as the boy had claimed- just an unfortunate swing of the bat- she would have let him off with just a warning, but as she is fairly certain that Henry's sending a baseball through the window had been the result of showing off to Ava, she'd decided to lay down the law a little more forcefully; if only to deter any further mishaps should he decide on a second attempt at juvenile flirtation.
Gods, have mercy...
"I'm going out at eight-thirty. Sydney should be here at about twenty past. I don't mind if you stay up until nine to read, but remember; no television while you're grounded."
Receiving no response, she turns away as Henry remains adamantly still, before smirking privately to herself when he grumbles at her to wait; unable to help himself from taking an interest after all.
"Are you going to the diner, mom?"
"Granny's?! No, dear. I think not!"
"... But it is a date?"
"It's... Dinner. Maybe a couple of drinks, but that depends on how things go."
"That's a date."
Henry sighs as he pushes himself up to perch on the edge of the bed to offer her a knowledgeable frown, and she splays her palms in surrender and goes back to leaning against the doorframe.
"Maybe it is."
She agrees.
"With Chris."
Henry replies with a wrinkle of his nose.
"With Chris."
The brunette concurs again, raising a brow when the boy pulls a face. She almost asks him what all the fuss is about- deeming it a little rich for Henry to be disapproving of her decision to seek out some semblance of a love-life when he had all but forced his other mother into the arms of her one-time good-time-call with hopes of a blossoming romance- but it seems his uncertainty lies more in who it is she's going out to see, rather than the fact that she's choosing to do so.
"He's not in the book."
Henry informs her as he pushes himself from the bed to pull the fairytale book from the top drawer of his desk as if to prove a point. There had been a time when he would have gone to great lengths to keep its pages a secret from the brunette, but now he holds out the heavy tome willingly and creates a space for his mother next to him on his quilt.
"No, I know, but then neither are a great many people who live in town. The Curse brought over all that were affected by my reign... That's not to say that I was affected by them. Only the stories that tie in with The Curse and its breaking are included in your book."
Regina reminds Henry with the dutiful note of apology she has learned it wise to inject into her tone when talking about such things with the boy or his family.
His other family.
"But, Chris was a knight?"
"Christian, back then, and yes. Well, of sorts. He was a nobleman. His land and ours never shared any allegiance, nor threat, it was merely by chance that he happened to be assisting Midas on a personal request when my involvement with the Golden King was at its peak, and it seems that it's for this reason Chris ended up in Storybrooke along with Midas's men. As I'm sure you're aware from the 'getting to know each other' assemblies at school- one of Miss Blanchard's brighter ideas- there are still a lot of residents that remain strangers to one another, and some of them remain strangers even to me."
"I know, it's just weird."
Henry frowns, dragging out 'weird' in a way that reminds the brunette unfavourably of his mother.
"It's no weirder than anything else that's happened since Miss Swan showed up in town."
She counters, and the boy nods in amiable agreement before looking up at her and wrinkling his nose again.
"But this guy just came up to you and asked you out? And you said yes?"
"It happens all the time to other people. Why is it so traumatising for you that it should happen to me?"
"Because you were the Evil Queen, mom!"
"I-"
"-I know you're not like that! I just... It's weird."
Henry reiterates.
"Well, I'm sorry it's weird to you that someone might seek out my company or find me attractive, but that's what's happened, and he's taking me out for dinner at half eight."
Regina snaps primly with an air of finality; brushing the creases from her skirt as she pushes herself from the bed and heads for the door.
"Mom."
Henry calls her back.
"Yes?"
"... I'm sure you'll have a nice time."
He smiles, before remembering his fury at the injustice of his incarceration and turning back to his comic with a sigh.
"What?! Well, can't you just take something?"
Regina cries; one hand on her hip, the other gripping the phone to her ear as she glowers murderously at the starlings congregating on the branches of her apple tree.
"Right... Mmm... I see... No, okay. Fine."
She mutters in response to Sydney's grovelling apology, before turning around and slamming the receiver forcibly back in its cradle.
"Damn it."
She hisses, cocking her head to the side as she considers the unsurprisingly sparse list of contacts pinned up beside the phone.
"Mr Glass can't come?"
Henry asks through a mouthful of pasta; knowing his mother detests the act of eavesdropping, but imagining she'll let it slide given that he sits at the table less than three feet from her heated conversation with the ex-reporter.
"He's sick. Vomiting, apparently."
She replies, tacking on this last part with an expression that suggests she considers his decision to do so when she's requested his services to be highly rude.
"Oh no."
"He'll live. He's most likely dru-... Eaten something that didn't agree with him."
"Mm. Probably when he was down at the Rabbit Hole."
Henry agrees, offering his mother a pointed look to remind her that he's no longer a baby and that he knows exactly what she was about to say.
"Don't make assumptions, Henry."
She snaps.
"They make an ass out of you and me."
He replies dutifully, and she frowns, brushing her hair distractedly back from her face.
"They what?"
"It's a saying. Emma told me it. I thought you were going to say the same."
"I wouldn't do so using that language."
Regina scolds sternly, turning to the fridge and pouring herself a glass of sparkling water as she goes through her options out loud.
"I can't ask Miss Ginger. She made it very clear that doing me a favour was a one-time occurrence, and I have no wish to sound desperate. Miss Lucas is out, given that service doesn't stop until ten-thirty and she'd still have to clean up the place before being able to leave."
Not to mention, the idea of letting the wolf slink and shed around my home is quite horrifying!
"I'm almost twelve, mom. I don't need a sitter."
Henry argues as he rinses his plate and cutlery beneath the tap and loads them into the dishwasher.
"Oh yes, you do."
Regina informs him bossily, watching as he helps himself to some of the apple pie she'd made earlier before adding a generous dollop of cream.
"But-"
"-No buts, Henry. I'm not leaving you alone at night."
"Fine... You know who you could ask?"
The boy meets her gaze calmly as he reclaims his seat at the table.
"Who?"
The Mayor frowns, although she's fairly sure she knows the answer.
"Emma. You know, my mom."
"I don't think so."
The brunette sniffs with an elaborate grimace.
"Why not?"
Henry challenges her, and Regina sighs as she comes up short while striving to find a reasonable excuse.
"I'm sure Miss Swan has plans. It's very short notice."
She offers a little lamely, and Henry raises a brow as he licks cream from his spoon before adopting a dry, sarcastic drawl the Mayor blames entirely on the blonde in question.
"Sure, like sitting up in her room pretending to read in order to avoid Mary Margaret and David being all romantic downstairs."
"She could move."
Regina shrugs unsympathetically.
"She knows, and she will."
Henry replies simply, before getting them back to their original topic and asking hopefully
"So?"
"... You're grounded. That includes not going over to Miss Swan's so that she can feed you icecream and let you watch some ridiculous movie with her until way past your bedtime."
"She could come here."
The boy reasons; undeterred.
"I..."
Pulling a face that makes it very clear just how she feels about that suggestion, Regina studies the remaining water in her glass irritably; weighing up whether she'd rather cancel her plans for the evening or give in to Henry's wishes.
And, subsequently, Emma's, which is something I'd like to try and avoid where possible...
A small smirk as this unkind thought flits through her mind, but in all honesty, her bickering when it comes to the Sheriff is mostly for show these days, and she's fairly sure they both know it. Just as Emma continues to pretend not to trust her with tiny, irrelevant things after quite literally placing her life in her hands on more than one occasion.
It simply works for them.
It stops things from becoming too friendly; a ridiculous notion if you'd have asked her a few months ago, but nowadays the possibility exists.
And that simply won't do.
"Come on, mom. Otherwise, you'll have to call Chris to cancel, and you were looking forward to this!"
Henry appeals in his sweetest tone, and the brunette frowns as she looks up at him.
"When did I say that?"
"Um, you're my mother. I can tell these things."
The boy rolls his eyes, and Regina turns her back to him as she takes her glass over to the sink with a small smile.
"I suppose it would be nice to get taken out. It's certainly been some time."
"Gross, I don't need any more details."
Henry grins, and the brunette offers him a withering look before casting her gaze up to the ceiling with a dramatic sigh.
"Fine. I'll call Emma. She'll probably say no anyway."
"Yes?"
The blonde answers her phone after checking the caller ID with a small frown.
"Yes? Is that how you usually answer the phone when people call you?"
Regina snaps, and Emma falls back onto her bed with a sigh and points out
"The people calling me aren't usually you."
"Mm. Rude."
The brunette reprimands waspishly, and she's unsurprised when, rather than responding with further annoyance, she catches the Sheriff laughing beneath her breath.
"Maybe... Honestly, there's not usually many people calling me out of office hours, and when they do, it's generally because the town's in danger. I hope that's not the case?"
Emma asks; her tone suggesting that she'd not be particularly interested either way, before another reason for the Mayor reaching out dawns on her and she asks a little more seriously
"Is Henry okay?"
"He's fine. Grounded, but fine."
"Yeah, he told me about that."
"When? He assured me he'd been sticking to the rules: school and then straight home."
Regina snaps, and the blonde catches the sound of their son arguing his corner in the background and rolls her eyes.
"We do text, Regina."
"Oh... He never texts me."
"He lives with you."
Emma sighs; refraining from sounding as dismissive as she usually might as she has come to learn that there are certain topics that actually do upset the Queen beneath her irritable, purposefully snide exterior. Henry's previous attempts to distance himself from what was at the time an already flawed relationship is one of those things, and, while Regina more often than not does her head in, she doesn't take any real pleasure in hitting below the belt so to speak. Remarkably, the darker woman appears to feel similarly these days, although her resolve to keep things civil arguably still needs some work.
"What do you want, Regina?"
Emma asks, playing a strand of hair through her fingers. She is met with a pause, and for a moment she feels her mood drop as she wonders what new and insane thing the Mayor plans to blame her for, before the reason for Regina's hesitation becomes clear; the truth refreshing, if a little surprising.
"I... need a favour."
"Oh?"
"Yes. And could you try not to sound quite so smug, dear?"
Regina mutters, and the younger woman smirks wickedly before assuring her one-time nemesis
"I have no idea what you mean."
"Mm. I'm sure."
"I assure you, I-"
"-Cut the crap."
The brunette sighs, and Emma can almost hear the Mayor cringe at her choice of language; not so much out of her preference for good etiquette, but because this little quip has almost certainly rubbed off on her courtesy of the Sheriff herself.
"Now who's rude?"
Emma asks pleasantly, and Regina groans before snatching back control over their conversation.
"Are you going to help me, or just infuriate me? Not that the two are mutually exclusive. You seem incapable of helping yourself with the latter, but I'd like to know whether you plan on being vaguely useful at the same time."
"Well, you're certainly going the right way about asking, that's for sure... What do you need?"
"I made plans to be out of the house this evening and Sydney was supposed to come and look after Henry, but it appears he's not well enough to do as he promised."
"How inconvenient of him. You sound very concerned."
"It is, and I'm not. He'll live, and my sympathy won't make any difference to his likely hangover. Don't go acting like you're Mother Theresa all of a sudden."
"I'm surprised you know that reference."
"I know plenty, but that's beside the point. Are you willing to help me?"
"You haven't told me what you want yet."
"I'm sure you can piece two and two together!"
"Oh, I can, but I'd still rather hear you beg..."
Emma replies silkily, and Regina closes her eyes as she squeezes her temples, before taking in a deep breath and replying calmly
"Miss Swan, would you be a dear and come over to mine for eight-thirty this evening to make sure nothing untoward happens to our son?"
"I will be a dear, yeah."
The blonde agrees, yawning wide as she checks the clock and makes it to be just after seven.
"Thank you."
Regina replies, sounding more irritable than anything else, and she hangs up the phone before the Sheriff can wind her up further.