A/N: Welcome to my current distraction, Chances Are. I'm writing this in an attempt to get over some serious writers block. This is an AU SwanQueen story that is an ongoing project for the foreseeable future. Please note that I fully intend to publish this AU as a stand-alone lesfic less the fandom, but figured while I'm working out the story, my fandom friends would like to see it as a SQ story first. I'm unable to post this story on AO3, because I've been banned there #RebelWithoutAClue

This is a non-magical Storybrooke where I've basically set up a narrative and simply applied the OUAT characters into their respective places. It does not follow the show outside of Regina adopting Henry.

This is a lesbian romantic drama that is outside of my comfort zone, so keep that in mind. I love the love, so if you feel it, leave it.

Enjoy

~Lu

Chapter One

It was cold the morning of the funeral as if the day needed to be more difficult than it already would be. The entire town of Storybrooke would be in attendance for their beloved Sheriff, not because he had been the dutiful husband of their Mayor, but because, on the surface, Graham Hubbard was a hero to them. A man who grew up amongst them, who was one of them.

Much was to be said for his choices in women, but when the announcement hit that he would marry into the powerful Mills family, many of the townsfolk balked at the union. Those who did not judge the notification for the calculated public relations stunt that it was, lifted the then would-be Sheriff to the level of a saint for taking on the burden of the high-maintenance daughter of the elite family.

Generally speaking, Regina Mills was looked upon as a cold, calculating, power-hungry person of privilege that the daughter of such an influential family would be. Her entire life was meticulously lain out by an overbearing, controlling mother who was feared by the greater population of the sleepy Maine town. As perceptions go, the Mills daughter was that of her mother in the eyes of the citizens of Storybrooke and by osmosis gained both the submission and fear of the people seating her as the Mayor of their town, uncontested, even well after the maternal figurehead had passed on.

At all of 25, Regina Mills was the youngest Mayor ever to be appointed in Storybrooke's history, and it was widely speculated that the landslide election results were the doing of Cora Mills pulling strings behind the scenes, but in reality, it was into the public relations the family poured endless piles of money that cinched the win. The unwed mother of her then young son was suddenly engaged to the white knight of the town, and overnight, Regina's speculated reputation was instantly rewritten. Graham was held up in high regard for taking on the burden of the Mills family, and in no quiet way, the adopted son of his soon-to-be bride.

The marriage lasted six long years before the Sheriff's heart gave out in the arms of another woman, and Regina found herself a widower. They were in no way the perfect couple, and if he had passed on in any other fashion, she would probably feel grief the way anyone would who lost a close friend. Instead, she felt the shame and embarrassment of the town's scrutiny as long speculated gossip was pulled into the light of truth. Anger. Betrayal. Resentment. Not to mention a political nightmare, having been an election year, the local media was having a field day with the juicy gossip selling their top news story off the shelves.

Regina smoothed out the modest black dress over her thighs and turned to admire her silhouette in the reflection of the large circular mirror taking center stage in the expansive white living room. Taking in the quiet of her home, she felt the suffocation of how silent the house was without him; not like the man made much of a stir in their lives, but the absence of him came with a stillness Regina never imagined she could have. It was freedom.

They lived separately, dropping the facade of their relationship behind closed doors as soon as her parents passed on, but now the lie was exposed for the world to see. Despite the turmoil it caused for her politically, she felt relieved that it was now over. The final chapter of her parent's legacy was over, and she was free.

It wasn't the way she wanted it to end, of course. Even though she was embarrassed by the scandal and upset at her husband's passing, she felt as though a weight had been lifted, and she could finally breathe.

The marriage had been one of convenience and more so to quell the growing rumor of Regina's sexual preference. As a prepubescent, Regina had a crush on a younger girl whose family ran in the same circles as her own. The Blanchard family were considered royalty amongst royals within the upper crest of Storybrooke, and Mary-Margaret was a striking young lady who caught Regina's eye. After an awkward encounter that left Regina embarrassed, she swore Mary-Margaret to secrecy only to have the naivety of the younger girl break that promise, and her shame was told and retold. Under the strict instruction of her mother, Regina denied all accusations of impropriety, and from that moment on, everything Regina did or didn't do was under hawkish scrutiny.

Adopting her son, Henry, on her own, with no father to speak of, just added fuel to those old rumors, and with a budding political career, the decision was made for Regina to wed.

Seeing Henry enter the room behind her, dressed in a black tailored suit, she instinctively turned to cinch up his loose tie. The boy's hair needed a trim and hung in his face causing him to push back the wild brown mop as his mother fussed over him.

After tightening the noose, Regina asked, "Are you alright, Darling?" As of late, Henry had been more withdrawn from her, so unlike the loving little boy he's always been, and there was a fear that this loss in their lives would cause him further damage. With a slight shrug of his shoulders, she lifted his chin to make eye contact before reassuring, "You can tell me."

With a slight roll of his hazel eyes, he explained, "Auntie Kat said we're saying goodbye to Graham today, but what if I don't want to say goodbye?"

Kneeling down before her son, she took a deep breath and replied, "Sweetheart, remember what we talked about? Graham passed away. Just like Mister Jingles did at school. Remember how Miss Blanchard made that ridiculous sing-a-long, and everyone said a nice thing about your class hamster?"

Henry scrunched up his nose in confusion and answered, "Yeah?"

Buttoning his jacket and smoothing out the lapel, she gave him a tight smile, "It's just like that, but the nice things we say are for Graham."

With eyes dropping, he asked quietly, "What if I can't think of any nice things to say?"

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to share, Darling."

Visibly upset, Henry whined, "But today is the day we're saying goodbye! What if he's mad that I didn't have a nice thing to say on his funeral day?"

Taking a sharp breath in, knowing the religious undertones of the local public school were to blame for her son's belief in a mystical afterlife, she answered truthfully, "Listen, Henry. Graham is gone. When we say nice things about him at his funeral, it isn't really for him. It's for us so we can remember how we felt about him."

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he thought about what his mother was saying to him, then asked, "What nice thing are you going to say, Mom?"

A blush crossed her cheeks as she hadn't been prepared to answer such a question. A speech had been written for her to deliver at the wake, but the words she'd speak were not her truth. It was what was expected of her. The anger she felt over his blatant betrayal was palpable. It wasn't fair, and as always, she was the one who had to clean up his mess. She heard the idle gossip floating around town. The excuses that were made at her expense.

Of course, he stepped out on her; who could blame him.

The soft voice of her friend, Katherine Nolan, echoed out from the hall, "The car has arrived, Regina."

"We'll be right there," she answered and took Henry's cheeks between the palms of her hands and kissed him on the forehead, "I don't know yet Darling."

"You can say he made banana pancakes for us sometimes on Sundays."

A single tear escaped over the apple of her cheek as memories of arguments passed when Graham would come home late, often drunk, smelling of the stench of the local dive bar and cheap perfume. He made those special breakfasts to appease her when he sobered up, using her son as a tool to get himself out of trouble. Not wanting to spoil those good memories for her son, she smiled through her tears and replied, "He was always so considerate, wasn't he, Darling?"

Determined to get through the day with as little fuss as necessary, she had her close friend, Katherine Nolan, run interference between the funeral home and her personal assistant. Katherine's family came from similar circles as her own, and she held a level of understanding for the situation. Katherine knew about optics and was the perfect person to handle things during this stressful event. The entire transition between the funeral home and the cemetery was made promptly and with ease, and she found herself standing, waiting to deliver a heartfelt performative speech about the life of the late, great, Graham Hubbard.

People were still arriving, but Regina focused in on a couple standing close to the front; the woman was none other than Mary-Margaret Blanchard, who was draped within the strong arms of David Nolan, making a spectacle of herself in sobbing hysterics.

Katherine saddles up next to the stoic brunette, lacing her arm through the tight arm fold, and asks, "Have they no shame?"

The raspy question snapped Regina out of her daze, realizing how hard it would be to see her recently divorced husband together with the woman who tore her marriage apart. "I'm so sorry, Katherine; this must be awful for you."

A light shoulder shrug accompanied a heartfelt, "It's not your fault, Regina."

"I'm the one who pulled strings to get him into that drug trial where they met."

Tossing a knowing side-eye, the blonde woman reassured, "You saved his life."

Smirking in a devious way few would ever see, Regina asked, "Would I be evil if I regretted it."

A surprised laugh escaped Katherine, and she agreed, "Yes, but thank you for putting your karma in harm's way for me."

Regina squeezed closer and replied, "Anything for you, Darling."

Just as she was enjoying a moment with her friend, the face of an anxious, slight, ginger man appeared entirely too close for comfort. Dr. Archie Hopper was the town therapist.

"I'm so sorry, Mayor Mills. This was so unexpected." The man's eyes creased in his concern, and Regina felt a patronizing undertone, real or imagined.

"Yes, well, thank you."

"If you need anything at all—"

Feeling the need for him to vacate her personal space, she said a stern yet emotionless, "I'm perfectly fine, Doctor Hopper."

Looking back at Henry sitting alone in the front row, fiddling with the buttons on his jacket, the ginger pushed, "Or if Henry needs someone to talk to—"

Annoyed, Regina informed, "I've already spoken to my son. He's fine."

"Graham was his father, Regina—"

Anger flared where cool indifference had once been before her political poise took over, she bit out, "He was not!" Taking a moment to compose herself, she said in a lower, steadier tone, "I am his parent. Graham had no interest in the boy. He is MY son."

With raised palms in surrender, Doctor Hopper backed down. "I'm well aware. I'm mentioning it because, despite Graham's "so-called" disinterest in Henry, he was still a big part of his daily life, and Henry may feel the loss in ways you can not anticipate."

A smoldering blaze ignited in black pools, and Katherine saw her friend was losing her temper with the balding man and jumped in, "Thank you, Archie, for your concern. You being the only therapist in a 100-mile radius of the town, I'm sure you'll be our first call if anything should arise."

With a shocked look, the stuttering man backed up before composing himself enough to give a tight nod and offer his condolences to the grieving widow, and moved on. Wailing coming from the center row causes Regina to roll her eyes at the theatrics of one Mary-Margaret before putting her fingers to her temples and whispered, "God, will this ever end?"

"Can we go now?" The sound of the bored 9-year-old sounded off to her side, but before Regina could turn to answer her son, Katherine leaned over and answered, "Not yet, Sweetie—"

Noting the boy was not upset, Regina decided to use his boredom to her advantage and cut off her blonde friend, "Of course, Darling! We can go!"

Seeing straight through her façade, Katherine side-eyed her friend and replied, "Regina, you can't leave; The Daily Mirror will crucify you on the front page!"

Sticking to her guns about the lie she's already spun to get her out of this entire situation, Regina held her head high and stated matter-of-factly, "My son's needs come before political mud-slinging, Katherine." For dramatic effect, she grabs Henry's hand and continues in a lower voice, "Besides, I'm overplaying the role of grieving widow for the day, thank you." Turning to the large black and white photo of her husband in his sheriff uniform, she said in a tone almost inaudible, "I hope you have the peace you never knew in life."

Dragging her son passed the sea of judgment, head held high, she found the driver who'd brought them to the graveyard and hurriedly informed him of their departure. Once behind the safety of the tinted windows and freshly cleaned leather, a lone tear spilled over the apple of her cheek, and she wiped it away as if it had never existed.