Author's Note: I've had several people ask me if I'm going to be continuing this fic. The answer is yes! Sadly, I've got about a million fics I'm working on right now (OK, more like 4), and I'm not a fast writer to begin with, so I may not be able to update very quickly. But I will definitely be writing more.

Regina watched as Emma nervously placed her glass of apple cider on the coffee table. An awkward silence hung over the two women.

"When I adopted Henry, I was told the birth mother didn't want to have any contact," Regina said.

Emma nodded. "You were told right."

"And the father?"

The awkward question hung between them for a moment.

"There was one."

Regina scoffed. "Ms. Swan, I could have figured that much out on my own. Do I need to be worried about him?"

She couldn't quite keep the jealousy out of her voice as she asked that, and in all honesty, she wasn't quite sure exactly what she meant by it. Obviously, she wanted to be sure the father wouldn't swoop in and try to take Henry from her, but she also couldn't help feeling jealous that Emma had moved on and found someone else. She couldn't help wanting to fish for as many details as possible.

"He doesn't even know," Emma said.

"Do I need to be worried about you, Ms. Swan?" Regina asked.

Emma blinked in confusion, as if the question was something that would never have occurred to her.

"Oh, absolutely not," she said, shaking her head. "I just wanted to make sure he got home safe. He seems like a good kid, you know?"

Regina nodded. "He is. Thank you for bringing him home. I know I'm probably the last person you'd want to see ..."

Emma shrugged. "It was a long time ago, Regina. I've moved on. I guess you have, too."

Regina took another sip of cider and watched Emma in silence.

"You know, I never got a chance to say thank you," she finally said.

Emma raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

Regina shot her an impatient look. "You know what. If you hadn't interfered ..."

"Don't mention it," Emma said. The blonde woman's jaw clenched, and suddenly her eyes were cold. Regina wasn't sure if the anger was aimed at her or not. She had seen that same look in Emma's eyes twelve years ago and not been quite sure then, either.

"Well, I suppose you'll be heading back to London soon?" Regina asked cautiously.

Emma shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."

As Regina watched Emma's ridiculous yellow bug disappear around the corner of Storybrooke Ave., she couldn't help feeling a sense of loss. That was ridiculous, of course. It had been years since she and Emma had meant anything to one another, and a chance encounter wasn't going to change that.

It wasn't until later that she found the note the other woman had left on the coffee table, with a phone number scrawled onto it in familiar handwriting. She snorted and tossed it in the trash. The last thing she wanted was to stay in touch with Ms. Swan, or at least, that was what she would tell herself.

Up in his bedroom, Henry flipped through his new school books, eagerly reading everything that he could. Spells, potions, fantastical-sounding creatures that he had never imagined existed ... how could his mom have tried to keep this from him? His new wand (vine and phoenix feather) sat nearby, and he was itching to try out a spell or two, but Professor White's warnings echoed in his head. He wasn't allowed to use magic outside of school, and if he did, maybe they wouldn't let him go after all.

Instead, he turned his attention to A History of Magic, New Edition. It might have been a history book, but to him, it read like a storybook. Inside, he found stories of witches and wizards, enchantments and curses, dragons and goblins and all sorts of magical beasts, epic battles between good and evil ...

And then he turned the page, and there she was.

It was hard to recognize her, with long black hair pulled up in an elaborate, twisting hairstyle, dressed in flowing black witches' robes, and brandishing a wand, but there was something familiar at this woman in the strange moving photo. He squinted at her for a moment before it hit him. The woman shooting jets of light from her wand and snarling at the camera was the same woman who had tucked him into bed every night, cared for him when he was sick, and told him that she loved him more times than he could count. She was the same woman who made the most delicious apple pie he had ever tasted and had argued with his teacher last year when she tried to punish him for standing up to the school bully. There she was, looking every bit like she could kill someone.

And according to the chapter, she had done exactly that. She had earned her infamous title many times over. His face was covered in tears as he pushed the book away. His mother really was the Evil Queen. Even what Professor White had told him hadn't hit him as hard as seeing her in all her evil glory, listed as one of the worst dark magic users of all time.

Suddenly, he couldn't stand to stay here in this house a moment longer. He knew now that his birth mom wouldn't understand; she would just drag him back here again. But if he couldn't go to her, he needed to escape somehow, even if only for a few hours.

When Regina realized that Henry had disappeared once again, she sagged back against the wall and sighed. A tear trickled out of the corner of her eye. This was going to be even harder than she expected.

She had known he would leave her. Ever since she had realized he was a wizard, she had taken that for granted. She had even guessed that he would reject her. Who wouldn't, upon finding out someone they loved was a monster? But did it have to happen so suddenly? If he slowly drifted away over his years at Hogwarts, that would still break her heart, but she didn't think she could endure a summer of him trying to run away on a daily basis. Not only was it a painful reminder of his rejection, but she didn't even know that he was safe. What if he got lost and couldn't find his way back home? What if he was in danger? What if ...?

Shaking her head, she walked briskly into the kitchen and fished a thrown-away scrap of paper out of the trash can. She hesitated, her fingers hovering just above the surface of her phone. Did she really want Emma Swan to have her number, or to mistake this as some kind of invitation back into Henry's life? But what choice did she have? Who else could she turn to for help?

No one. That was the answer. So she punched the number into her phone and held it up to her ear, desperately hoping the other woman would answer.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Swan."

"Regina?"

"Henry's gone missing again. I need your help."

Emma found Henry sitting alone at a rundown playground with a book on his lap. She sat down beside him and glanced at the spine.

"A History of Magic?" she asked. "Isn't it a bit early to be reading your school books?"

In reply, he simply flipped the book open and showed her a page with a very familiar picture on it.

"Oh."

He shut the book again and put it aside, then turned to look up at Emma.

"She was evil."

Emma nodded. "She was."

"I thought when I found you, things would be different," he admitted. "That the final battle would begin."

Emma chuckled under her breath. "The final battle happened before you were even born, kid. It's all there in that book of yours."

"But ..."

"No, listen to me," said Emma. "Your mother may not be perfect, but she loves you, and she's trying her best. I want you to give her a chance, okay?"

Henry looked back at her in confusion. "But she's evil. You should know that better than anyone."

"Oh, kid," Emma sighed. "Things aren't that simple." Standing, she beckoned to him. "Come on. Your mom is worried about you, and I promised her I'd bring you home."

As they set off back toward Storybrooke Ave., Emma wondered what it would take to make Henry realize how lucky he was. She would have given anything to have a mother like Regina, former dark witch or not, instead of being passed around from one foster home to the next. He might believe that she couldn't love anyone, but Emma knew for herself how very wrong that assumption was. The glow in Regina's eyes when she talked about Henry was the same warmth that she had overflowed with as a younger woman. Emma might no longer trust her lover-turned-archenemy, but she didn't doubt for a moment that Regina loved her son.