Saturday sprung upon New York City as assuredly as a turtle crossing into the ocean. It sort of just happened. Like any other day in the Big Apple, it just was. The streets were just as crowded, the people were in the same hurry, and cars honked just as loud as they always did. Weekends had no effect in the heart of the City of Dreams. In a constantly-on-the-go environment, life never slowed down for anyone or anything.

Henry slid out of his nightly coma and entered into a world of french toast, bacon, and eggs. Sizzling from the iron frying pans traveled down the corridor and served at his alarm clock. No matter what, though, Henry always seemed to wake up at 8:15 every weekend. It was his body's natural alarm. No matter how late he went to bed, it was the same thing every day off from school.

He kicked off his feather-downy blankets, stretched his arms behind his head, and yawned the biggest yawn with his eyes scrunched together. His stomach kicked into gear as his mouth watered from the aroma of a home-cooked breakfast. Standing up, he relinquished power of his body to his nose and let it carry him towards the kitchen, his hair disheveled and his nightclothes clumped together.

"Good morning, dear," Regina beamed enthusiastically. She was definitely a morning person. Running the metal spatula through the scrambling eggs, she rotated slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of her groggy son. Henry drifted towards the refrigerator, pulled out a jug of freshly-squeezed apple cider, and retrieved two glasses. "One more, Henry. Emma's coming over soon," Regina relayed nonchalantly.

"What for?" Henry asked as he took out another cup. Blinking several times he saw that there were three places set at the table.

"I don't know," Regina confessed, having moved on to stacking the bacon on a plate. The pan with the french toast was still busily fulfilling its duty. "All that she said was that she has a surprise."

"Like… a good surprise, or…?"

Bringing two trays to the empty buffet, Regina shrugged to herself. "I suppose she'll tell us when she gets here." Turning around, she searched Henry's youthful features. The swelling around his nose had gone done substantially, but the coloring hadn't shifted from its previous purple and blue. If only he'd let her put some makeup on it to cover it up. "How does it feel?" she motioned to his battle wound.

Henry's hand flew to his injury as if he'd forgotten about it. Mindfully, he touched the flesh, fully prepared to cry out in pain. However, he remained calm. It hurt, of course, but it wasn't as bad as he had anticipated. It was more like a dull ache, but it had the potential to turn into a burning sensation at any moment. "'S ok," he mumbled.

"Is there anything I can do? Anything you need?" Regina wanted to know. It killed her that there was very little that could be done to erase Henry's shame. And for a little while, this distracted her from her other… issues.

Henry shook his head with a gracious smirk, "I'm good, Mom. It doesn't even hurt." He knew that if he told her the truth, she'd insist on taking him to the doctor or worse: the emergency room. Reading her sluggish body language— for Regina, that meant she hunched forward a quarter of an inch— Henry turned the tables. "What about you? Are you ok?"

As if she could't love her child any more, Regina's heart melted at his concern for her. She squashed the distance that separated them and pulled Henry in for a hug, despite his reservations. He would never be too old to hug his mother. "Don't worry about me, all right? Leave all the worrying to the parent."

The pair had just broken apart when a tapping came from the door. Regina went back to the remaining food on the stove while Henry turned the knob. "Hey, Kid," Emma winked down at him. "Forgot to give you back your keys. Hmmm, something smells good." Henry chuckled at his aunt's obsession with food, though to be fair, he loved it just as much. Whenever Regina cooked, which was quite often, he couldn't get enough. He felt bad that Emma was unable to go through the religious experience that was Regina's meals on a regular basis.

"Come on in!" the brunette called over to the blonde. Regina was holding the saucer an inch over the burner, letting the bread soak up every last bit of butter that had melted into a pool. Henry had already seated Emma with a glass of cider and was kindly waiting for his mother to put the finishing touches on their feast. With one last scan of the spread, Regina nodded to herself and untied the violet apron around her waist. "Help yourselves."

Henry and Emma grabbed for the bacon at the exact same moment, which Regina tried to ignore, and being the gentleman that he was, Henry handed the plate to his aunt. "Nah, you go ahead," Emma said quietly, suddenly self-conscious. "You've gotta grow some more, I'm good," she added as she pat her flat stomach.

As Henry happily piled four slices onto his clean dish, Regina turned to Emma. "So, tell me, what is this surprise you couldn't reveal over the phone? Don't tell me you've stolen another car and need somewhere to hide?"

"One time! That was one time!" Emma griped, eyes rolled to the side in an overly dramatic fashion. "Besides, I was 17. Do I like like a teenager anymore?"

"No," Regina confirmed. "However, you do still act like one."

Henry stifled a giggle at the women's banter as he moved onto the fluffy, yellow eggs. Watching Regina and Emma was like watching Bert and Ernie; they were amusing, confusing, and also opposites who seemed to attract. Had Henry not been right next to her, Emma would've— jokingly— given Regina the finger, which Regina would've reciprocated with a few choice words. "Look, do you wanna know or not?" Emma whined as she shoved a forkful of food into her mouth.

Crinkling her nose in distaste of Emma's eating habits, Regina said, "Why don't you finish chewing before letting us in on your dirty secret?" Having meals together always posed somewhat of a challenge for the woman. On one hand, it was a great way to spend time all together, especially Henry and Emma. But, on the other, it was also a reminder of their situation. Regardless of whether Henry noticed, Emma and Regina did; Emma and the boy somehow managed to look exactly alike while they ate. If it wasn't the way they wiped their chins with the napkins, it was how they slurped their beverages. Or, it was the way in which they chewed like a giraffe: slowly, but audibly. Regina and Henry never did that; they never really had much in common, except for their shared affinity for comic books. Often, Regina found herself envious of the connection between Emma and Henry, though she knew she was being foolish.

"Ok, you guys ready for some awesome news?" Emma asked after washing down the toast with juice, a line of syrup threatening to fall into her shirt. Pulling a white envelope out from her back pocket, she waved it in front of the duo. "Open it up," she said to Henry.

Very deliberately, the kid lifted the flap and peeked inside the unmarked pouch. Once he saw the contents, his eyes widened in disbelief. Almost as if he were frightened of the objects within, he lifted an apprehensive hand and hovered it over the slim fissure. "No way," he wowed, the first sound to escape through his solemn exterior since laughing just minutes before.

"What is it?" Regina wanted to know. She craned her neck slightly like a puppy trying to look out of a window two feet too high.

Emma had been buzzing all morning, ever since she'd booked the flight and purchased the tickets. She'd wanted to wait until Henry's birthday to tell them, but she just didn't have the patience for that. She'd always been more of an "instant gratitude" kind of person. "What would you say to four days at…. Disney World?" Emma addressed Regina more than Henry; she could tell by his shocked expression that he wanted to go.

"I… I'm sorry, what was that?" Regina stammered. She set her fork down on her plate tactfully, careful not to let it clatter against the glass; no matter what situation she was in, Regina always recalled the teachings of Cora.

"Go ahead, Kid. Show her." Henry followed Emma's instructions and speedily passed the papers onto his mother as if they were a ticking time bomb. Snatching the documents, Regina scanned the information that was typed up before her. There were numbers and words, but none of it made sense. "Henry gets off in a few weeks, right?" Emma questioned. "It's for the end of June. He'll be all done with school and everything. No more homework, no more bullies. It'll be a real summer vacation!" she boasted with pride. She rarely ever spent money on anything other than food and rent, and she saw no better way to spend it than on Henry. If she couldn't be the mother he deserved, then she damn well would be the aunt other kids would be jealous of.

While Henry was struggling to find his voice again, Regina had no trouble locating hers. "Henry, dear, would you excuse us for a short while?" she asked in a strained tone. Recognizing that accent, Henry left without a protest. He swiftly disappeared into his man-cave, shut the door behind him, and pressed his ear against the thin wall. Just because he couldn't be present, didn't mean he couldn't know every juicy detail. With the dishes in the sink, Emma began running the water; the warm stream relaxed her nerves as she lifted one plate after the other. Still at the table, Regina narrowed her eyes at the woman. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Emma inquired innocently. She pulled open the dishwasher and knelt down to pack the trays in. Moving onto the glasses, she filled them up with water and poured them out into the drain like a child.

Mildly irritated at Emma's aloofness, Regina stomped up to the blonde and leaned against the counter. She glanced down the hallway to make sure Henry wasn't in ear-shot, though she didn't know his secret methods. While he was several inches of plaster away from them, Regina still spoke in a thick whisper; her husky resonance making it nearly impossible to actually murmur. "You had no right coming in like that; waving a treasure that can't be won."

Placing the cups upside down on the top rack, Emma frowned at her friend. "Whaddu mean? The Disney World thing?" Regina nodded in exasperation. "Gina, it's all paid for, if that's what you're worried about. It's not like it'll get cancelled or bumped back. It's all good."

"No it's not 'all good,' Emma Swan. You should have consulted with me before going off and making elaborate plans! You should have come to me before telling Henry! I have no clue if I can take work off, he's never been on a plane before, and I'm not willing to risk losing him in an overflowing theme park!" Onto the silverware, Emma rinsed each piece individually with great consideration. Her own temper increasing exponentially, Regina started to turn red. "For God's sake, Emma, are you listening to me?!" she shouted, grabbing the blonde's wrists with much more force than she'd intended. The moment she did, though, she regretted it. Like a vicious canine, Emma yanked free of Regina's clutches and plastered herself against the wall; the water still splattered against the metal basin, her hands still dripping, and several unruly twists in her face. After years of abuse from fellow foster kids, and a couple of times, adults, Emma hated physical contact unless initiated by her own self. "I- I'm sorry," Regina stuttered, genuinely guilty. She cursed herself for letting Emma's phobia of being touched slip her memory. Although they'd grown up in similar environments, Regina had compartmentalized most of her experiences; she worked on overcoming her anxieties on her own.

As if in a dream state, Emma spoke without any expression at all. She held her arms out still, as if she'd forgotten to put them down. There was a towel not three feet away from her, but she was frozen in her spot. "Forget about the trip," she uttered. "We don't have to go." It was apparent in her glossy orbs that she'd had enough excitement for one day. Feeling as if she were in a sauna, Emma tugged at the low collar of her shirt and wiped her forehead, which didn't help any since her hands were wet. "I should go." Throwing her coat over one arm, she plucked the envelope from Henry's placemat and trudged towards the door, leaving a trail of water droplets behind her.

"Christ," Regina moaned to herself. Checking one more time to assure herself that Henry was safe in his room, she bolted after the woman and followed her down three flights of stairs. She didn't want to reach for Emma and scare her again, but Regina wasn't having any luck with just calling her name. Finally, after plummeting through another two flights, Regina seized the hem of Emma's coat. "Emma, please."

"What?!" the blonde snarled as she spun around, wrenching her jacket from Regina's hold; she was beginning to wish she hadn't even come for breakfast.

Pleading with Emma, Regina softened her previously dreadful features. "Please, you have to understand; you have to remember… you have to remember the arrangement. I'm his mother, Emma. I make the big decisions." As much as she absolutely hated to use this as ammo, Regina saw no other way to make Emma realize. "You're his—"

"I know who I am," the bail bondswoman said bitterly.

"And you know the rules. Maybe sometime we could bend them, but for now, Henry needs—"

"I get it," Emma remarked. It was all too convenient that she was turned away from Regina, as she felt her eyes stinging with tears. "I'll see you later, ok?" After that, she took off in a sprint, never bothering to see if Regina was still running behind her. Emma couldn't get out any faster if she were driving through the building in a Mustang; her long legs carried her down the rest of the steps, never allowing her to tumble. Lightyears passed before she landed on the first floor, both of her feet crashing against the carpet as if she'd fallen from a two story building, her footsteps ricocheting off of the metal railing. Emma felt as if she were suffocating, as if the corridors were closing in on her and the front door was getting further and further away. A tight grip clamped down on her throat and she was having trouble breathing.

"Emma!" she heard Regina holler somewhere in the distance. But she didn't let that stop her. She had to get out; she had to get some fresh air. Even after ending up on the front stoop, raindrops pouring onto the top of her head and obscuring her vision, Emma kept going. It was all just too much. She needed space. She needed room to completely meltdown.


When Regina returned to her flat, Henry was timidly gliding down the main hall. His brown hair stuck out in several different directions, he was still in his pajamas, and he wore a rather interesting expression; it was a combination of sympathy and understanding, though he couldn't really understand what had happened— not yet, anyway.

"Mom?"

Clicking the locks and fixing her hair, Regina donned an incredibly fake smile. "Yes, dear?"

"What's wrong? Why'd Emma leave like that?"

Oh, Gods, he saw everything. "Erm, Emma had an appointment she forgot about," Regina lied.

"On a Saturday?" Henry may have been young, but he wasn't stupid. He was much more astute than Regina ever gave him credit for. That was one of the reasons he loved being around Emma; she didn't patronize him. "Is she ok?"

Sensing that he wasn't going to give up just yet, Regina budged an inch. "She'll be fine," she said. "She… she'll be just fine." Sizing up the nearly-cleaned dining room, the brunette threw on her apron and secured the strings behind her back. "Come on, let's finish this. I'm sure we can find something fun to do afterwards." She made no mention of Disney World.

Henry gathered the napkins and tossed them into the linen bag under the sink. Then, he took a wet wash cloth and cleared away the crumbs, just like Regina taught him. As her son assisted in clearing up the space, Regina watched him with a quizzical eye; her focus shifted from Emma's triggered reaction to the way in which Henry carried himself around the house. He no longer slumped forward as if embarrassed to exist, his chin was lifted several inches in confidence, and he emerald orbs— Emma's emerald orbs— shone with budding poise. The older he got, the more questions he was bound to ask. She figured it was just a matter of time before Henry pieced everything together on his own. She thought about this everyday; it wasn't as though it was a recent worry of hers. Regina knew she and Emma would have to tell Henry at some point. Deciding on when that point would be, however, proved to be the most difficult part. There was so much that she wanted Henry to know, and yet so much she wanted to protect him from. Sometimes, though, Regina forgot that she couldn't shield him from his own story.


Emma raced home on foot through the storm. She didn't care that her clothes were drenched and that her curls were soaking. The bangs she'd been growing out were plastered to her face and her shirt hugged her toned abs. She darted up to her apartment, threw off her coat, stepped out of her jeans, ripped off her tank and fell onto the bathroom floor. The cold tile against her skin shocked her back to life and her pupils enlarged, back to their normal size. She hadn't had this strong a response in years, not since… not since before Henry was born. Why she was reacting this violently was lost on her. All that she knew was that she hadn't felt so small in over a decade. Everything around her was a foreign object, threatening to crush her like a bug. It was as if she were being turned into that fragile teenager again, unable to stop the pain inflicted by others; she felt out of control.

How could something so awesome end up being something so awful? Emma knew who she was to Henry; she could never forget. Every time she saw him, every time she hugged him, and every time she kissed him goodbye, she knew. It wasn't as though she were trying to take Regina's place, let alone act as a mother period. She just wanted to do something nice for the Kid, show him a good time. She just wanted to see him smile, something she only got to do weekdays at seven o'clock. Why was that such a bad thing?

Her phone rang in the other room. It was on vibrate and on sound. The pure notion of talking to someone made Emma quiver in her own embrace. She didn't care who it was or what they wanted, she just wanted to be alone. Though, that's a hard feat to accomplish when you're accompanied by the demons that've plagued you for your entire life.


A/N - Hello, dearies! I hope that you enjoyed that a little update! More will be explained as we go on, for sure. I'm sorry it's been a couple of weeks. It's been hella busy. Anyway, I'm still working on this and "Here's Looking at You, Dear." I have NOT forgotten about these two! Oh, and by the way, nice job trending "SlashShipsMatter" yesterday! It was so cool to see what everyone had to say and to know that someone in the SQ community originated that hashtag! Stay tuned for more, folks!