A/N: Can I just say, constraining one's self to a ten year old's perspective isn't quite as easy as I'd thought it would be, I'm not sure I've done it justice lol. I hope you enjoy anyway.

Phase one, Henry decided (And carefully plotted out in an unlabeled notebook, so as not to lose track), was getting them to spend time together without the situation dissolving into blows. He had never witnessed one of their arguments turning physical before but he well remembered the week, that dreadful week following Graham's death, they had both walked around sporting nasty purple-green bruises. The dots connected themselves. Which limited his options to public places and crowds big enough to embarrass them into behaving.

Finally he had a reason to appreciate his mother's refusal to let him drop out of basketball ("You'll finish out the season. My son won't be a quitter.") when he'd first wanted to. The Saturday match he had previously had every intention of skipping out on became a golden opportunity to kickstart 'The Plan' (He hadn't settled on an operation title for this side bar of 'Cobra' yet). Unfortunately getting them both to attend was more than likely going to require some manipulation on his part. He hadn't willingly invited his mother along in ages and the mayor had acquiesced to his hostility without complaint, he assumed because she hadn't actually cared in the first place. As for Emma, he hadn't shared this detail of his life with her yet but he knew if she had the time getting her to show up would be as easy as asking. And if she didn't have the time, as easy as pouting and a calculated puppy-eyed stare.

When he got home from school he found his mother in the kitchen, stirring something steaming in a pot on the stove. He hovered in the doorway a moment, one shoe on and the other discarded haphazardly on the stairway, taking a moment to study the mayor unobserved. It had occurred to him earlier, as he had scoured his book for anything that might aid his plan, that he didn't actually know her at all. Every detail he had ever gleaned from their life together, every fact she had ever shared with him , every habit- all were lies or constructs of the curse. He knew nothing of the real woman, the queen she truly was.

Nothing substantial, anyway.

She had possessed magical powers. She had been bitter and angry, for reasons the book evidently deemed inconsequential. She liked apples. She was evil.

It had been enough at first, but he was coming to realise that these were shallow facts, two dimensional. They didn't create a whole person.

As he watched her stiff back, still dressed in a button-up and pin striped suit pants with impossible heels, saw her take a thoughtful taste from of a spoonful of what he realized was spaghetti sauce, he wondered if she even liked to cook. Had it been strange for her, when she first came to this world, to use something like a stove? It must have all seemed so alien. How much did she actually remember? Everything, surely.

He was bursting to ask. There were so many things he wanted to know.

"Hey mom."

He let his backpack slump to the floor and took up a seat on one of the tall stools she kept around the kitchen island. She looked around at him with such genuine surprise written all over her face that he almost felt guilty. Lately he never willingly sought her out for anything, never spent any more time with her than he had to.

The twinge was quickly pushed aside. Whatever else he did or didn't know about her, she was still evil. In that regard she hadn't changed.

At Least... not yet, at anyrate. But if his undertaking was successful, if he could get Emma to love her, and vice versa, then maybe they could save her. Maybe then she would love him too, the way she always claimed but he knew had to be false.

Regina recovered from her shock quickly. "Henry! How was school?"

"Good I guess." Henry shrugged and folded his arms atop the island, leaning forward to plant his chin on the crux of an elbow. She smiled at his continued presence, looking almost delightfully puzzled, and turned back to the stove to turn down the burners. "Dinner's almost ready. Why don't you go wash up?"

"Sure." He said, but didn't move. He was still digging for courage, hoping she wouldn't see right through him to the plotting he was doing. Hoping she wouldn't say no for other reasons too, but those were ignored. "Actually, mom, I wanted to ask... see, there's a game on Saturday. I was kinda hoping you would go. You know, to watch me? I'm actually getting better, I think."

That got her attention. He watched her dark brows knit in thought, no doubt mentally reviewing her schedule for an excuse not to attend. She surprised him however by smiling, nodding. "Yes, of course, Henry. I would love to."

His face stretched in a jaw splitting smile without his consent and he ducked down to scoop up his discarded backpack.

"Cool."

#########################

"Hey Emma, what are you doing Saturday?"

They were walking around downtown with no real destination in mind, just stealing time together before he had to get home. They'd gotten ice cream cones from Granny's and the sweet, rarely indulged in treat was dripping all over his fingers but it was so good Henry didn't much care. Emma had the smallest dab of chocolate on her nose and he had to stifle his giggles, determined to see just how long it was going to take the Sheriff to notice.

She frowned, thinking. "Um... Nothing, actually. That's my day off. Why, what's up?"

"I have this thing. A basketball game. I was hoping you would come and watch?"

"Oh! I didn't know you played any sports." He shrugged, his best imitation of her, and she smiled before saying, "Wait, won't your mom be there? I really don't think that'd go over well, kid. She might string me from the rafters or something."

Henry swallowed his bite of waffle cone before uttering the prepared not-lie, trying to look dejected enough to be convincing but not so much as to be over the top. "She never goes. She's always got work and stuff."

The sympathy and brief flare of anger that flashed over Emma's face told him the statement had been just true enough to slip past her lie detecting super power, just as he'd hoped.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay. I'll be there. I'd love to."

They reached the end of the block just as Leroy came barreling around the corner and he pulled up just short of ploughing into them. His perpetual scowl deepened, about to say something scathing no doubt, when he suddenly burst into thunderous laughter.

"Uh, Sheriff, you got a little somethin'." He finally managed, just as Emma was starting to frown in annoyance, "Just there." He tapped the broad tip of his nose and then brushed past them, still roaring with laughter.

Emma touched a finger to the end of her nose, coming away sticky with chocolate, and groaned. "Ah! Henry! Why didn't you tell me?" She scrubbed at her face with a red jacket sleeve while the forgotten cone in her other hand dripped ice cream all over the sidewalk... and the toes of her boots.

Henry just grinned.