Regina loved horses.

They were noble creatures: the seamless combination of hard grit and beauty. Powerful enough for hard labor, graceful enough for elegance. Capable of great loyalty, and greater fierceness. Controlled, but never completely tamed: the "wild" never quite disappeared. She loved the way they could gallop for miles without breaking a sweat, their endurance through all manners of weather and storm; she loved their discipline, their strength; she loved their majesty and dignity.

But her favorite thing about horses…?

No goddamn horse had ever casually called her down to the station, and surprised her with her newly-resurrected mother, waving from the holding cell.

Even now—two hours later in Granny's diner— she was silently seething. She hadn't quite progressed to speech yet, in her shock recovery, but through crude sign language and Rumple's persuasion, she found herself seated between Rumple and Cora, both of them tucking into the overcooked eggs and burnt toast while Regina stared sightlessly ahead.

Emma hadn't given her any warning when she'd called her down to the station, so there was no way to prepare herself for the barrage of emotions that had assaulted her when she saw Cora. First, there was the obvious shock, freezing her heart and stealing her breath, turning her very soul to ice; then there was the overwhelming heartbreak, as the memory of her death rushed up and engulfed her; the brief flame of joy, quickly doused by the rage that had never quite died, knowing that this woman was responsible for so much of her misery.

This woman, who was now contentedly eating bad diner food beside her and asking for the salt.

"Regina, dear, it's right by your plate. Could you just—?" Cora made a grabbing motion with her fingers. Regina stared at her for a full minute; then slowly picked up the saltshaker and passed it over. Cora smiled with a chirpy, "Thank you", and peacefully went back to her breakfast.

Regina blinked at her, and went back to staring out the window, trying to fathom the ludicrousness of her mother. The woman had been dead less than twenty-four hours ago, and she was acting like it was just another Tuesday morning. Where were the gushing tears, the overwhelmed gasps? The shaking voice, the trembling hands? The speeches, where were the speeches? In all the ways Regina had imagined their reunion, she'd pictured teary-eyed speeches in every one. But that hadn't happened. All she'd gotten was an excited, "Regina, sweetheart! I'm back, isn't it—? Oh, my, I love your blouse!"

No one had seemed to notice Regina staggering back and clutching at her heart; nor had they heard her choking and gasping and babbling incoherently. Emma and David were engaged in a whispered argument, while Rumple chatted to Cora in a low voice, moving his hands around as through he were explaining something. Meanwhile, Regina focused her efforts on not having a heart attack and dying smack dab in the middle of the police station.

Naturally, who should walk in next but Graham—who had had a heart attack and died smack dab in the middle of the police…which had been Regina's fault, thus making it her cue to leave. Rumple seemed to understand this, because he'd stolen quick glance at her white face, and said loudly, "You know what, David? I think Regina and Cora are going to need to some time to catch up—be a lamb, and unlock the cell for me?"

David paused his argument with Emma long enough to have an argument with Rumple, but his heart wasn't in it: Rumple easily won him over, and before she knew it, Regina was trapped between Rumple and Cora in the hall of Health Code violations, surrounded by bad eggs and small-town gossip.

Essentially, Hell.

"Regina, dear, you've been awfully quiet," Cora ventured, carefully spreading butter on her toast. "I wish you'd say something, I've missed you so."

Regina turned incredulous eyes on her. Cora stared back, chewing her toast daintily.

"Well?" she prodded. "Come on, say something—anything!"

"Rumplestiltskin is my FATHER?"

Cora froze for a minute; then broke into a nervous smile. "So you heard about the Rumple-thing—"

"Yes, I heard about the Rumple-thing!" Regina snarled.

"Speaking of fathers, who is he?" Cora asked, gesturing at Regina's stomach. "Can I meet my son-in-law?"

"It's Robin Hood," Rumple said before Regina could answer. "He's really nothing special. Used to be an outlaw, now he's…still an outlaw, far as I know."

"Oh." Cora furrowed her brow. "Is he cute? I'd hate to have ugly grandchildren."

"Come on," Rumple scoffed; he chucked Regina's chin, and shook it slightly. "How could they be anything less than flawless, with a mother like this?"

"Get off!" Regina pushed his hand away, and furiously turned back to her mother. "I can't believe you! Did you never think to tell me that my father was the Dark One? Did Da—did Henry know?"

"I'm sure he suspected," Cora shrugged, sipping her tea. "We never really talked about it, though." She flapped her hands, shaking her head. "I don't want to talk about that now, let's get to the good stuff. Catch me up on Storybrooke."

Regina looked at Rumple helplessly, who gave her a small nod of assurance and scooted his chair closer to begin a brief summary of the last few years. Regina sat numbly through his discussion of Henry being kidnapped to Neverland and how the whole rescue mission amounted to a family-bonding retreat, when they weren't being terrorized by the immortal teenagers (who now had a very successful following for their punk rock band). Cora listened, her eyebrows disappearing further and further into her hair as Rumple went on.

"And…Hook was part of this?" she said disbelievingly. "Hook, as in my Hook?"

Regina gagged at the phrase "my Hook", remembering all the (probably-true) rumors of Hook and Cora's relationship.

"We were all a little thrown," Rumple agreed with a frown. "And then there was that whole Emma-business that came out of nowhere, the made a right mess of things…"

"What Emma-business?"

"Meh, nothing really," Rumple shrugged, waving a dismissive hand. "For a time, he insisted he was in love with her, but most of us think, he just wanted to be part of the gang."

"There's a gang?" Cora said, raising her eyebrows.

Rumple nodded, and started to count off on his fingers. "David, Snow, Henry, Emma, Neal, me, Belle, Regina, and Hook managed to shoehorn himself into the picture. Sometimes Ruby and Robin are there, but they don't have T-shirts."

"Your gang has T-shirts?"

"No, that was a quip," Rumple said, somewhat impatiently. "What I mean is, Robin and Ruby are only part of the gang because of who they're sleeping with."

"So…" Cora squinted her eyes, tracing invisible lines with her finger in the air as she tried to map it out. "Robin though Regina, and Ruby through…I'm sorry, who's Ruby again?"

"Slutty werewolf," Rumple said briskly, reaching across Regina to grab the salt. "Sweet girl; questionable taste in men. I don't know what she sees in that pirate, but they've been on and off for the past few months. Eh, Regina?" he added, elbowing her to include her in the conversation.

"What is wrong with you people?" she said, mystified as she looked between her parents. "Are we really not going to discuss this? Any of this?"

"Any of what, darling?" Cora asked, concernedly.

"This!" Regina cried. "Our family! My son resurrecting you, under this one's training, and everyone being weirdly nonchalant about it! The fact that you kept my real father from me—let him teach me Dark magic, and change the entire course of my life—and I only found out about it because my half-brother—who is also the father of my adopted son—was able to break my blood seal on my vault to get refreshments for Rumple's vow renewal to Belle! Who is also my half-step-mother!" she added, practically in tears now.

For a moment, Cora simply stared at her, her fork-holding hand still frozen in midair; then she tsked and shook her head, letting out a fluttery little laugh. "Oh, you're so dramatic!"

"Mother!"

"Regina." Cora placed her hand on Regina's, looking at her intently. "I want you to listen to me, sweetheart: it wasn't until I died with my heart in my chest that you caught a glimpse of the mother you should have had. You were raised by a shell of a person, who survived on her own cunning and craft—brilliance, if you will."

(Regina rolled her eyes).

"That being said…I did not make the right decisions, decisions I might have made had I been able to feel anything. I might have known regret…remorse…the sense of betrayal you must be feeling right now. And for that, I am truly sorry."

She gave Regina a small hopeful smile, which she held for a minute—and then went back to her eggs.

Regina blinked a few times, trying to fathom the utter ridiculousness of Cora Mills, but the woman defied credulity. She wished Neal was there, to provide a sarcastic remark; or even Emma, to exchange a derisive look with. Rumple, for his part, seemed to think Cora's apology was more than sufficient, and was now contentedly remarking on the food poisoning they would both likely suffer.

"…really gone downhill in the last few years," he was saying. "Tony's gone senile, I'm sure of it."

"I don't know Tony." Cora paused, and continued with a stiffness in her voice, "I don't know Belle, either, but I'd love to hear more about her. Tell me about the little homewrecker."

Rumple choked on his drink, coughing violently. Cora waited, unperturbed, as he pounded his chest, struggling to recover his breath.

"H-homewrecker?" he gasped finally. "She's not a homewrecker, she's my wife!"

"And the mother of …which of your two children?" Cora frowned."Are you sure she's not just the whim of a midlife crisis?"

Rumple opened his mouth indignantly, but he was interrupted by a sultry drawl: "Darlings!"

"Christ," he muttered, rolling his eyes as Cruella sauntered into view, Ursula following closely behind. Cora looked around, eyeing Cruella's furs appreciatively.

"Are those real?"

"So real, they're still barking," Cruella smirked, cuddling into her snow-fox furs. "Skinned them myself."

"They're beautiful," Cora admired. She regarded Cruella for another minute, then extended her hand. "Cora Mills."

"Oh, yes, I know," Cruella said, her eyes gleaming. "You're Regina's mother, back from the dead. And incidentally, the reason why I'm here right now. See—" she paused as Ursula scared a couple out of their chairs, so they could sit down—"if you're here, that means that young Henry has finally succeeded in hammering down resurrection. Which means, he can help us with what we came for, in the first place. I'm Cruella De Vil, by the way, and this gorgeous woman right here is my wife, Ursula."

"Charmed," Cora smiled.

"Likewise," Ursula nodded back.

Rumple glanced at Regina, the hint of a smirk on his face . We're so fucking classy, he mouthed.

Regina stared at him dryly, fingers pressed to her temple to ward off the migraine she could feel coming on. Rumple sat back in his seat with a little shrug, and went back to his coffee.

"Now, then, Regina, darling—" Cruella cleared her throat, placing a red-taloned hand on her wrist—"where is the boy?"

Regina shook her head tiredly. "At the rate he's going, probably trying to resurrect the Lost City of Atlantis, so he can have his own kingdom."

"That's not a bad idea…." Cora mused.

"Mother."

"Well, call him," Cruella said, waving a dismissive hand. "We need to speak with him."

"Henry's had a long night, you can speak to him later," Regina said, narrowing her eyes. "And with one of his parents present. Neal's out of town, so that leaves either me, or Emma."

Cruella curled her lip. "Tch. Emma."

"Don't care for Miss Swan, I take it?" Rumple asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Lily's heart is little cracked, at the moment," Ursula said, side-eyeing her wife. "She really thought seeing Emma again was going to have a bigger impact, dredge up old feelings…The bitch has been avoiding her since we got here."

"What old feelings?" Regina frowned. "That makes it sound like—"

"Don't ask, I don't know the story," Ursula said, waving her hand. "And honestly, at this point, its significance is dropping. Maleficent is the real reason we came here, and the only way Emma figures into it at all, is that we need her boy to work his magic."

"You know," Rumple said before Regina could reply, leaning across the table, "that's quite a favor you're asking, dearie. I hope you're not thinking to get it for free."

Cruella frowned. "Actually, I think we've already paid more than enough. I've kept quiet as a mouse, haven't made a spot of trouble—and Ursula spared the pirate's life."

"I demand compensation for that," Regina said instantly.

"I think Henry would agree," Rumple nodded. "Sparing Hook's life is a debt he owes to you. The rest of us are majorly inconvenienced by your mercy. And besides—" he shifted in his seat, folding his hands together—"Henry may be young, but he's a very shrewd, sharp-minded little bastard. He's going to want to discuss this with you, go over terms and the like, before he commits to anything."

"And I'll suppose you'll be right there, hissing instructions in his ear?" Ursula returned coolly.

"I don't need to hiss instructions, he already thinks like me," Rumple smirked. "I'll provide advice on the suit he wears, but this will all be Henry. I can have him meet with you later today, if you like."

"He's got school," Regina said scandalously "Rumple—"

"High school is hardly important—"

"—Dad."

Rumple looked 'round in surprise, his eyes wide. Regina drew in a steady breath, and continued.

"Look, I know you're trying to turn Henry into 'Mr. Gold 2.0', but this is ridiculous. Okay? He's still a child, he's not responsible enough for this—he can't be a business shark at fifteen, especially not when his business is life and death. This is dangerous."

"Oh, Regina, honestly!" Cora tutted. "You're overprotective of him! He is a necromancer, my dear—do you really think anyone's going to be brave enough to cross someone with that kind of power?"

"He's a child—"

"No, he's not," Rumple said in a voice like cold steel. "This family has an inheritance of growing up before their years. He's the same age Emma was, when she started running away from foster homes. He 's the same age Bae was, when he went traversing through the bloody universe of realms. He's the same age Snow was when she started running from you." He sat back, regarding her with icy eyes. "He's finally coming into his own, and you will not take this from him. Let him run his own life."

Regina blinked. If it had been someone else's child, she might have even agreed, but…but this was Henry. And he had a history of getting into trouble—fatal trouble! The poisoned apple tart, nearly blowing up the well, Neverland…And now, meddling in life and death. She couldn't just stop worrying, not with a track record like that.

"And Regina," Cora said softly, "you remember what it is to have your mother run your life."

"This is hardly the same thing!" Regina argued. "You were controlling me, I'm protecting him—"

"Forgive me, my dear, but that's bullshit," Cora cut in serenely. "I said the same thing, and you loathed me. Take my advice: keep a distant eye on him, and leave it at that."

Rumple gave a firm nod of approval, and tipped two fingers to his temple in silent salute to Cora. Regina looked between the two of them, bewilderedly trying to think of an argument; but it was hard to argue with their logic, mad as they both sounded—and her relationship with Henry was delicate as was…She didn't want to alienate him further, and interfering with something this important to him would do just that.

She released a heavy sigh, covering her hand over her eyes. "All right, fine," she said. "You can talk to him, just—just make it in a public place, okay? So I don't worry?"

"You have nothing to worry about, darling, we would never hurt the boy," Cruella said smoothly. "But if it will soothe your nerves, certainly."

"And after school," Regina added. "I don't want him skipping class for this."

"After school," Ursula shrugged in agreement. "But today after school."

"I'll go with him," Rumple volunteered, putting a hand up. "Keep an eye on the boy, see how he handles himself—"

"You can watch, but you have to keep your mouth shut," Cruella said, narrowing her eyes at him. "We're dealing with Henry—not you."

Rumple batted his hand dismissively, giving a muttered agreement.

"And I'll tell you something else," Cruella said, turning to Regina. "If Henry doesn't cooperate—if he suddenly decides he's not going to resurrect Maleficent—I'll go off my best behavior. Storybrooke will have to deal with a villain again, and this time…it won't end so well for you."

Regina frowned, flipping out her hand questioningly. "What are you going to do—criticize everyone's wardrobe?"

"I can be a major pain in the ass," Cruella warned her. "I will make late-night phone calls—I will write letters to the government—I will throw a customer-service-fit in every business establishment I set foot in. I will have late parties with loud music—I will hold up traffic with snail-speed driving—and you can bet your perfectly-shaped ass, I will demand to see the manager in every restaurant this little podunk town has."

She folded her arms and leaned back in her seat, a satisfied smile, curling on her face. Regina exchanged a look with Rumple, who regarded Cruella with a confused little frown, as though he didn't quite know what to make of her.

"I wouldn't cross her, Regina," Cora said quietly. "She sounds serious."

"Yes…" Rumple mused. "We've dealt with psychotic villains on murderous rampages, but a steady stream of irritating, ongoing pettiness is…well, it almost sounds worse."

Regina lifted an eyebrow. "It does, doesn't it?" she reflected; then cleared her throat, leaning forward with folded hands. "All right, ladies—I can promise, I won't stand in the way of Henry's decision; but since, as you said yourself, you're dealing with Henry. He's the one you have to convince."

"Which shouldn't be hard at all," Rumple added, with a quick side-glance at Regina. "He's rather eager to hone these skills, I'm sure he'd love another opportunity to exercise those skills."

"Lovely," Cruella smiled, gathering up her furs as she stood up. "I look forward to it. Children are the future, after all."