"Mom," Henry smiles brighter than all of Snow's lights smothering their quaint town as she enters Granny's diner.
"Hi honey," she breathes out her relief and cups his warm cheek, her thumb slowly skimming his flesh to express her love.
"Emma said you were thinking about coming to the party tonight?" His curious eyes suddenly change tactic and flicker to amusement. "I think you really should. I want you to be there."
Her son wants her there and that affirmation is more than she could have ever hoped for. "Well, then I wouldn't miss it for anything in this world," she vows through a smile that actually causes pain in her cheeks.
"Did I hear you are coming tonight?" Snow rudely interrupts with a screaming newborn pressed firmly up against her chest. "That's wonderful, Regina, truly, just spectacular."
"Pump the brakes, princess. I'm only coming for my son," she reiterates while slipping her arm around his shoulders and pulling him closer into her embrace.
"Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night, Your Majesty." The former princess mocks right back in her face with a smug expression that Regina hasn't seen in quite sometime since the cursed memories of Mary Margaret invaded her brain.
"I sleep just fine at night," she snips, causing her son and his grandmother both to roll their eyes in unison.
"Anyways, the party starts at seven," Snow informs her over her son's insistent wailing. "Don't be late," she harshly commands.
"Am I ever?" She sternly inquires, but Snow just glares at her with this annoyed, dumb look upon her face. Regina rolls her eyes in return and tries to ignore the screeching from young Neal. "Would you like me to bring a dish?"
"That would be nice. Thank you," Snow kindly replies as she begins bouncing up and down to soothe her child. "We should be going, so much to plan for this evening!"
"Mom? Do you want to come with us to help plan and decorate?" Henry sweetly offers, but a day with Snow and a screaming infant just sounds insufferable when she can be going over the storybook, once more.
"I will catch up with you later, honey, I am going to stop by the office."
"But it's Christmas Eve," he whines with his pleading puppy dog eyes that always melt her heart in an instant.
"I know, honey, but isn't Emma working as well today? This town doesn't run by itself," she teases while caressing his pointed little chin that reminds her so much of his blonde mother today, for some odd reason. She shrugs off the familiar feeling warming up her cold bones and kisses her son's cheek lightly. "I will see you later."
"Alright," he shrugs and turns around to retrieve a traveler's mug behind the counter, resembling the one Emma purchased for her yesterday. "Here," he offers the cup and smiles mischievously.
Regina furrows her brows as she accepts the cup, inspecting the item as though it maybe poisoned. That's when she notices long strokes of black marker, decorated with swirling letters, painting the phrase Merry Christmas, across the paper cup.
"Awww, thank you, Henry," she excitedly coos, but he's already walking out the door, snickering under his breath.
The rich aroma of strong coffee wafts through the air and tickles her senses, black coffee, just how she likes it. She turns and heads for the door, no longer needing to place an order and exits the small diner. Just from the small interaction with her son, she feels lighter on her feet as she sashays toward her office.
Maybe she can forget about Robin and enjoy her son's company this Christmas?
"Ooofff!"
Golden strands are smothering her face while a burst of coffee invades her nostrils, with a hint of vanilla swirling in the air as well. That's when she registers the burning hot sensation clawing at her hand and legs.
"Dammit," she growls under her breath as she pulls away from the unruly blonde mess that's trying to capture her hostage.
"I'm so sorry, Regina, I wasn't paying attention."
"Obviously a concept that is lost to you," she quips angrily while she pouts over her spilled coffee that her son so generously purchased for her.
"Here, hold on," brown eyes flick toward green saucers that are in a full blown panic. Emma suddenly squeezes her eyes shut, her lips pressing firmly together while her forehead creases in concentration.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Let me fix it," Emma anxiously responds as her hands slowly stretch through the space between them.
"Open your eyes, Miss Swan," she instructs and straightens her posture. "I will not have you practicing your magic on me." She quickly flicks her wrist, washing away the stained, scorching hot coffee, and making the cup disappear altogether.
"How am I suppose to learn if you won't let me try?" Emma whines like a small little girl, resembling a younger version of Henry, who pouted every time things didn't exactly go his way.
"Practice on your pining pirate," she casually snarks, waving her hand carelessly in the air, because she truly doesn't care if she accidentally torches him instead.
The savior huffs out her annoyance, but soon she is waving her hand in the air. A white cloud of smoke surrounds her long fingers and produces another red coffee cup. "At least let me replace the drink," she softly suggests while holding out the cup.
Regina's lips twist, dissatisfied knowing that the cute little greeting will no longer be present. She snatches the cup from Emma's hand and mumbles her thanks under her breath. She glances down, ready to taste the offered beverage, half expecting it to be cold or taste burnt. However, the same exact penmanship is exquisitely drawn across her cup taking her by surprise.
Her stunned eyes snap toward green ones that are sparkling with excitement. "Merry Christmas, Regina," Emma gently whispers, smiling shyly as her hand latches onto her bicep and she squeezes just once before she retracts, leaving Regina speechless. "I'll see you tonight."
"Wait," she wants to ask how she knew about the writing, because it just doesn't seem possible that she had enough time to spot it on the cup during their run in. Nonetheless, when she glances up, Emma's already half toward Granny's door and the moment has already passed.
Regina shakes her head from the preposterous assumptions running through her mind and treks back toward her Mercedes. Once she slips inside, she carefully places her beverage into the cup holder and that's when she notices a thick piece of paper that appears as though it was torn out of Henry's book.
She quickly gathers up the paper and runs her fingers over the detailed drawing, noting how the texture feels awfully different from the original book. Yet, she's examining, studying and memorizing everything this page has to offer. It's a rather interesting illustration, one that she know doesn't belong in Henry's book.
It's an intricate drawing, detailing the back of Henry's head, while she holds him close and Emma is on his other side, smiling so hard from him being in her arms again. Regina's nose scrunches up in confusion, completely aware of this private moment that occurred in Neverland, but unsure how it was drawn up on this piece of paper and planted in her car.
No more than a month ago, a similar photo appeared for Robin, of him and Regina when they were younger in that tavern she walked out of. The moment never occurred between them, yet the picture still appeared from thin air, just like this one. She proceeds inspecting the photo, nervously tapping her foot against the floor of her car until the only conclusion possible strikes in her mind like a bolt of lightening.
If she doesn't stop this obsession over trying to change her fate with the author, then she will lose the single most important person in her life, Henry.
She shakes her head and tosses the scrap paper onto her passenger's seat. She already promised she would attend that ridiculous party this evening, what more does the universe want from her?
XXXXXXXX
When she stomps back into her office, she is pleasantly surprised to find a rectangular box wrapped neatly in red shiny paper with gold stripes running diagonally across the present. She pauses for a moment, her eyes quickly shifting all around her office for the intruder to still be hanging around, just waiting to be caught, like most of the fools in the small town.
She takes a few cautious steps forward, still somewhat expecting a bomb to erupt from the mysterious box. She peeks down at the big, sparkling, gold bow placed perfectly in the center and discovers a small tag shaped like a snowman. Mayor Mills, is written neatly, but there is no name below revealing the sender.
She hums to herself and slowly picks up the box, wondering who in this town would ever leave her a present, because in the last thirty years, nobody has ever left a Christmas present on her desk. She purses her lips and slowly drags her finger through a fold covered by clear tape.
It could be Snow, she's been trying very hard as of lately to continue building on their relationship to best friend status. She slides her finger across the box, exposing the white box that lays beneath. It could be Leroy, for saving his grumpy ass last night, she ponders as well.
She tears through the beautiful paper, half expecting the person's name to appear across the top of the box in permanent marker. Instead, she is just greeted with an assortment of chocolates. She sighs, feeling the slight disappointment and tosses the lid off the box. She hasn't eaten lunch today, but she supposes stuffing her face with chocolates after a breakup is perfectly acceptable.
Halfway through the delicious box, Miss Swan uninvitedly pops her head into the office with a wide sappy grin that just screams, Santa brought me exactly what I wanted for Christmas!
"I understand why stalking people was your profession before you became sheriff," she exasperates, her eyes still scanning the details of Pinocchio's story.
"Yeah well, with the attitude you've retained lately it's no wonder your true identity isn't Scrooge instead of Evil Queen," the sheriff sarcastically quips while she strolls into the office as though she is the mayor of the town.Regina's lips pucker from the comment while she rolls her eyes and watches as the blonde sinks down into the chair she has seemed to claim as her own as of lately. "Now, I don't feel like you deserve this," she states while holding up a bag from Granny's.
"That's fine, I have been indulging in this box of chocolates anyway," she casually confesses, turning the page once more with hope that she might find something new.
"You can't live off chocolates," Emma declares, snatching the box away, her green eyes frantically roaming over all the leftovers while most likely judging Regina for all the wrappers left behind. "But this is like the best chocolate out there..." Regina simply hums in response, not truly listening to her words because her mind is addicted to the book before her. "Regina, enough!"
Regina hardly has time to accept the voice booming off the walls before Emma seizes the book right from under her nose. The savior slams the heavy cover shut and quickly holds it hostage against her chest.
"Emma-"
"No, enough is enough. You need to stop moping around and burying yourself in this book. Robin left, and it sucks, I get it, I really do, but the world is still turning around you. You can't just stop living because of one bad breakup."
"I'm sorry, Emma, but I'm not you. I can't just turn my cheek and jump onto the next ship that's sailing by," she defends.
"Is that another dig at Hook?" Emma skeptically asks, appearing taken back for a moment from the wide-eyed expression.
"Of course, it is, Swan," she growls from her lack of patience and reaches for the book that's pinned against the sheriff's chest, but Emma scoots further back into her chair to avoid her touch. "You barely took a minute to breathe after Neal's passing before you jumped into a relationship with Hook."
"First of all, we went on one date," Emma sternly rejects the assumption and glares at her like she just insulted her mother.
"Oh please, Swan, every time I turn around that man is clinging to your back, whispering nonsense into your ear."
"That's not true, he's just trying to prove he's no longer a villain by helping us out," she weakly reasons and it's damn near impossible for Regina to stop her eyes from rolling out of their sockets.
"Okay, Swan," she exhales very loudly and holds out her hand, silently requesting Henry's book back.
"You're not getting this back until you eat something," she orders, tucking the book beneath her chair and then proceeds to unpack the lunch she purchased for both of them. "I thought you might be sick of that kale salad, so I chose something different this time, apple pecan salad," she flashes her most toothy grin while handing over the container.
"Thank you," Regina softly replies to convey her genuine gratitude and happily accepts the generous lunch.
They both sit in silence, eating peacefully, neither one finding the courage to strike up a conversation nor look at one another in the eyes. Regina's fork crunches against the lettuce, nearly breaking, in the crisp apples. The paper Emma's grilled cheese is wrapped in, crinkles and fills the awkward silence between them.
"So, uh did you guys have Christmas in the Enchanted Forest?" Emma curiously inquires with those big green eyes staring back at her. She takes a rather large bite of her heart-attack-sandwich before shoving an onion ring into her already full mouth.
"Yes, we had Christmas in the Enchanted Forest, except our presents weren't nearly as glamorous as they are here in Storybrooke. The holiday was more about spending time with loved ones over a feast...well, for the royals it was. You'll have to ask your shepherd father what they did for Christmas," she quickly adds on and watches as Emma's pale lips quirk up into a wicked smirk.
"What was your most memorable Christmas from back then?"
Emma presses on, completely ignorant to the fact that Regina doesn't really want to be discussing her time spent celebrating this holiday. Not when she had such high hopes for this year. She imagined on numerous occasions, Robin setting up a warm fire in her mansion Christmas evening, with Henry and Roland excitedly waiting by the tree, so they could tear through the massive amounts of presents tucked away beneath the tree that they all decorated together.
Regina sighs heavily once again and drops her fork into the container, suddenly losing her appetite completely.
"One of my most memorable memories from that time would have to be when my father purchased Rocinante for me," Emma's freckled nose wrinkles as her face washes over with pure confusion, "my horse," Regina elaborates, earning herself a playful smile.
"You do realize you just said that you didn't receive glamorous gifts back then and now you proceed to tell me that daddy bought you a pony?" Emma mocks in her usual condescending tone when she feels like bickering with Regina for fun.
"That was one time," she deadpans. "Think about all the toys and video games we have spent over the years on Henry, it hardly compares."
"Alright, well what other gifts did you receive?" She innocently questions and stuffs another greasy ring into her mouth.
"Nothing really," she shrugs casually to seem unaffected by the acknowledgment, even though her heart is clenching painfully tight and she swears her mother's ghost is curling her nimble fingers around her throat successfully cutting off her oxygen supply.
"Your parents never got you anything else?" Emma interrogates further, dropping her onion ring, so she can offer her undivided attention.
Knowing that those inquisitive green eyes are on her, makes her skin crawl, because this is something she has never discussed with anyone before.
"Not really. I believe you seem to forget who my mother was."
"That woman was a real piece of work," Emma rolls those green eyes and focuses her attention back toward the sandwich that's leaving a grease stain upon the mayor's desk. "The only present I ever remember receiving was from Ingrid. It was after I was already living with a new family. Of course, at the time I thought she was clinically insane, so when I saw it, I immediately tossed it in the trash. I still have no idea what was inside."
"Most likely an ice cream scooper."
Emma snorts and shakes those sunshine tresses all around her face. For a split second, Regina's eyes seem to take in the blonde's appearance and for once, she notices just how relaxed she seems. It's very rare for this woman to actually take a moment to step back and breathe, because the savior title is always hanging over her head, the pressure constantly weighing her down.
Emma's lazily slumped in the chair, munching on another onion ring and her porcelain face is soft, relaxed. Those sparkling green eyes are flashing with amusement every time they exchange another memory and if Regina's not mistaken, she thinks she detects golden flecks hidden in those irises that match her long silky hair.
What the-?
Regina quickly shakes her head from the obnoxious thoughts and begins picking at her salad once again. Clearly she is experiencing a mental breakdown from staring far too long at the same book over and over again. She supposes a night away wouldn't be the worst idea if she is starting to see Emma Swan in a whole new light.
