Henry laughed as Emma's car fell off the road yet again, just as his car zoomed into first place; the little character on the screen started a victory dance. "You're horrible at this."

Not that it really mattered seeing that she had been in last place anyways. Regina did nothing to hide her amused smile at the blonde's losing streak as she had yet to win since they began playing the racing videogame. But Emma remained undeterred and jovial at all of her defeats, "Not all of us have had that much practice. You didn't lap me this time at least."

Regina sat up on the couch, pretending to read the Storybrooke Daily Mirror, which had yet another fluff piece on the mayor's office, while Emma had camped out on the floor of the living room with Henry in front of the television. After they had finished the peach cobbler and fresh-whipped cream that had served as dessert, she had insisted that they go and leave her to cleaning up from dinner. Her guest had been reluctant to leave her to the task, but one pleading look from Henry to play with him and she allowed herself to be dragged off.

It hadn't taken long for to have everything packaged away in Tupperware and the dishwasher running. She grabbed the paper intending to read it, to see what new rousing epithets about her Sidney Glass had come up with in the latest article. His words though meaningless to her did have their moments of entertainment. She liked to make sure the journalist was still completely infatuated with her therefore still under her thumb. But as she slid onto the couch trying to go unnoticed, Emma had turned for a second to give her a fleeting smile, an action that sent her zigzagging racecar smashing into a wall. After that the brunette found her eyes wandering away from the page to the pair in front of her. She watched Henry constantly having to remind Emma about the controls and the sheriff attempting to cheat by jostling the boy mischievously with her shoulder, though her plans had yet to be successful.

"You know this is nothing like driving a real car." Emma waved the purple controller that had been delegated to her. "You would be horrible at that."

"Aren't you horrible at driving a real car as well?" Regina spoke for the first time.

"I'm a good driver." The blonde defended, but she lacked any real irritation at the accusation.

"The town's signage wouldn't agree." She shot her a teasing smile.

"That wasn't my fault. There was a- you know what I don't need to explain myself." Emma rolled her eyes when she realized she was being messed with. Regina didn't know why she enjoyed getting a rise out of Emma so much but it was the most fun she has had in a while.

Henry cared less about the good-natured mockery of his birth mother and more about his videogame, "Let's go again."

"It's 8:30." Regina shook her head. "It's time to start getting ready for bed."

"But Mom…"

"Bedtimes are non-negotiable." She gave him a sharp look, hoping it would quell any further rebellion. She missed the days when Henry would be excited for bedtime because it meant baths with his rubber duck and nightly stories from his Mommy. Henry would pick a book off the shelf, usually Harold and the Purple Crayon, and they would snuggle on his bed, the small boy pressed into her side as she read. He would try his hardest to stay awake with rapt attention and wide eyes but inevitably his eyelids would begin to droop and he would slip into the deep slumber only children could achieve. Regina would always finish the story anyways, taking the time to watch him sleep and be totally in awe of the little person she loved so much. Now she had to wait and sneak into his room at night if she wanted to catch a glimpse of her son in such a peaceful state.

Unfortunately Henry looked prepared to further state his grievances as he took a telltale gulp of defiant air, generally indicating that he was not going to simply let it go. The mother geared up for battle but Emma swooped in saving them both the trouble.

"You heard your mom, kid." If Emma was aware of the tension that had gathered between mother and son she did not let on. Her tone was light, boarding on cheerful. "It's bedtime."

Henry deflated slightly, looking miffed that the blonde had apparently sided with the enemy. However, it didn't stop him from asking, "Can Emma stay and say goodnight?"

Regina stiffened at the request and she caught Emma cringe out of the corner of her eye, apparently anticipating a bad reaction. And she wasn't wrong. The brunette did not want to share anymore of her time with Henry than she already had. She was about to say absolutely not, however the expression on Emma's face thwarted her denial. The younger woman looked vaguely like a puppy that would do anything to just tag along, eyes soft and pleading complete with her head inclined ever so slightly to the right. Regina couldn't get the word no to pass her lips at the sight and she found herself uncharacteristically agreeing, "If Ms. Swan is amiable to the idea, then I don't see why not."

"Yes! Come on Emma. I want to show you my room." He was scampering off the carpet, pulling up the blonde who was less spry than the 10-year-old.

"Make sure he brushes his teeth well." She called after them. Emma could only nod briefly before Henry had quickly tugged her away toward the stairs. Regina remained seated on the couch, unable to face the scene that was playing out on the second story. She could hear them shuffle around, Henry chattering incessantly even with his mouth full of foamy toothpaste. She tried not to feel slighted that it was once her job to oversee her son's nighttime routine, not that he really needed the supervision anymore, but she wanted to be included in his life once again.

Slowly the woman rose from her spot and went to click off the television that Henry had left on in his hurry to scamper off. She climbed the stairs also needing to switch off the bathroom light. Preparing to scold him on the importance of conserving electricity, she finally moved towards his bedroom. However the admonishments died on her lips as she peaked around the doorframe.

Emma was hovering by Henry's bedside, clearly at a loss as to what to do. Her son was already under the covers showing the blonde a Captain America comic, oblivious to her discomfort. Regina knew her boy had quite the capacity for gabbing, probably because she had encouraged his talking so much when he was growing. Silence had been the absolute rule in her childhood home; children were to be seen rarely and not heard at all. Her mother enforced this strictly and cruelly as she did with all her rules. Regina couldn't stand the thought of stifling her son like that as she determined to fill her halls and rooms with his voice and laughter. Even now she had to smile at his easy conversation, even if it wasn't aimed at her.

He began to wind down though, giving Emma a chance to speak. "You've got a real nice set up here kid."

"It's pretty good." He agreed but his eyes traveled around the room casually like his books and action figures were not all that impressive. It was all he'd ever known; her son did not realize that not every child grew up wanting for nothing. He had yet to conceive that a child could go to bed hungry, let alone without the latest edition of Avenger comic book.

Regina couldn't see Emma's face but she heard a wry chuckle as she agreed. "Yeah, pretty good."

Henry bit his lip, suddenly catching some of the woman's awkwardness, realizing that this was uncharted territory for the both of them. Finally he spoke, "I liked having dinner with you and Mom."

"I liked it too."

"Do you think she'll let you come over again?"

"I hope so." Regina had never heard the sheriff's voice quite so small.

"Goodnight, kid. Sleep tight." The vulnerability vanished in an instant and she was headstrong, confident Emma Swan again, ruffling her Henry's hair with a carefree ease. Regina backed away so they would not know she had been listening. She moved just in time as the blonde nearly bolted out of the bedroom. Passing Regina with a nod of recognition, she hurried down the hall to the stairs. The older woman watched her go for a moment before she made her way in to have her turn to say goodnight to her son. She sat on the edge of his bed, combed his hair back into place, and warned him against staying up too late reading, because she was his mother.

/

When she came back downstairs, Regina was not sure if she would find Emma still there. But she was in the foyer, her hands shoved into her pockets and apparently absorbed in staring at her shoes. The brunette's presence went unnoticed and she considered what to do with her guest. A big part of her wanted to send her off with a crisp goodbye and her signature icy glare to promptly forget about the whole dinner. However, another part of her, a smaller yet more insistent part, said to invite her to stay a while longer.

The mayor knew this could be a monumentally bad idea. It was bad enough she had given the invitation to dinner in the first place. After all, the woman standing before her had the potential to ruin everything she worked so hard for and sacrificed so much to create. She was the Evil Queen and Emma the prophesized Savior, yet here she was allowing the woman to dine in her own home. She couldn't really be sure what had driven her to even think of having the blonde for dinner let alone actually follow through with it. Regina clung onto the concept of keeping her friends close but her enemies closer but that was not entirely true.

In truth, her distain and anger towards the sheriff had somewhat fizzled out. She discovered she could not maintain her resentment and instead found it had been replaced with something else. Her mind had not come up with an appropriate term though it felt a bit like curiosity hedging on amusement. She had been so out of touch with her emotions unless it regarded Henry that she didn't know what to make of it. Regina cleared her throat, "Would you like another glass of wine?"

Green eyes shot up and looked at her wide with surprise for a second. Emma quickly relaxed though and nodded thoughtfully, "I'd like that. Thank you."

They were soon settled in Regina's den, the older woman having stoked a small fire to life in the hearth. The heat emanating from the flames and the crackling wood soothed over her as she sank into the winged back leather chair. Emma sat on the couch across from her, her finger idly tracing the wood grain of the armrest. Kicking off her high heels, she stretched out her feet that had developed a dull ache for the prolonged arched position. She lifted her wine glass to her lips and let the burgundy liquid rush over her tongue, "Mmm, this is quite good."

Emma hummed in agreement behind her own glass. The brunette tried to differentiate the varying flavors, "Black cherries, oak, and…"

There was something else that she couldn't name, something sweeter and lighter than the other dark flavors. The younger woman filled in for her, "Elderflower."

"Yes. Elderflower… Where did you learn about wine, dear?"

"You really want to know?"

"I did ask."

"I was after this mark one time. He was on the run for tax evasion I think. None of the other guys I'd talked to had any luck catching him. I guess he was real slippery. I found out he had a weakness for insanely expensive wine and blondes. I figured I already had one thing going for me." She ran her hand through her yellow curls. "All I had to do was some research, learn some lingo, and track down the guy."

"I found him in some ritzy hotel in New Hampshire. He actually approached me at the bar; men are terribly predictable. All I had to do was pretend to be a wine connoisseur, suggest I had a rare bottle in my car that he had to see, and just like that he was in the back handcuffed to the door. It only rained once through Ohio on the way back to Chicago."

"Rained?" Regina did not understand the pertinence to the weather.

"Well, he was cuffed to the outside of the door. He had to make the ride back half out the window." Emma smirked impishly. Regina sniggered along with the younger woman who was still amused by her own antics.

"So catching criminals is that easy?" She topped off the Emma's glass and then her own. The alcohol was starting to warm her belly and spread to her limbs making her feel relaxed.

"Sometimes. You know what they say. You catch more flies with honey." The mayor could certainly assent that Emma could be the essence of honey. With her blonde waves, sharp green eye, and high cheekbones, Emma was undeniable beautiful.

The brunette cleared her head of such thoughts, "So that is how you learned all about wine?"

"It's how I learned I like wine." Emma corrected. "I educated myself further on the subject over the years and try knew things when I can."

"You're full of surprises."

"What about you? Where did you pick up your palate?" Emma inquired.

"There is not much to do in Storybrooke. I've had time to pursue a few hobbies, including oenology."

"Oenology." The younger woman muttered to herself and chuckled ruefully, "Of course you know the exact name."

"Things do have proper names Ms. Swan."

She ignored her prickly statement. "What other hobbies have you collected?"

"I've spent a lot of time learning to cook. It wasn't necessary when I was growing up. We'd always had help in the kitchen so I didn't need to learn before." Regina divulged, revealing a shade of her privileged upbringing.

"I knew you could cook. Give me something else." She waved her hand unimpressed.

"I've got a bit of a green thumb. Mostly tending to my apple tree, though I suppose you know that as well. Seeing as you've helped me with some pruning." Regina raised a challenging eyebrow and her guest had enough sense to duck her head in embarrassment.

"Yeah, I should apologize for that. I'm sorry. I don't always think before I do things."

"It was a… heated time for everyone. I suppose we can look passed all that now." Emma grinned thankfully. They lapsed into a moment of silence, leaving the brunette to consider her options. Her years spent in the little town of her creation had only made her more withdrawn from people. The last person she had been able to talk to having been lost to her 28 years ago. Was she capable of sharing parts of herself with someone and Emma Swan of all people? Yet no else was brave enough to be seated on her couch and asking her personal questions.

"Photography." The word came from her mouth almost without her permission. Emma looked startled that she had spoke but waited patiently for her to continue. Regina recalled first discovering the camera when she woke up all those years ago with a sunny outlook on life and freshly shorn locks. She took pictures of everything and marveled at the technology. The novelty and luster of her supposedly perfect new home waned as the months dragged into years but her passion for photos didn't, even developing a style and art to her images. Her photos weren't half bad either if she said so herself. Then Henry came to her, breathing new life into her dulled existence, and her lens had a new subject. "I love taking pictures, being able to hold a moment of time in your hands. It's truly fascinating."

Her heart clenched in her chest as she wished not for the first time, that she had a camera in the Enchanted Forest and she could have taken a picture of Daniel. There had been no portrait for her to bring with her either since no one painted pictures of lowly stable boys. Not that she could ever forget his sweet face, or how he looked at her like she hung the moon and the stars, but it would have been something to physically hold when her mood swung too low and she felt like she would never get back up again. Her voice cracked momentarily when she spoke again but she pushed the emotions back with practiced ease, "When Henry came to me, I took so many pictures. I have albums full of him growing up."

"That sounds really special Regina. I'd- I'd love to see them sometime." Emma stuttered.

"Maybe sometime." She said tightly. The blonde nodded, seeming to know to drop the subject. Regina was glad, she was beginning to feel raw and exposed. Emma leaned forward, placing her empty glass on the coffee table. She didn't settle back though, instead resting her elbows on her knees and letting her hair fall in front of her face. Finally she tossed her hair back, the locks flashed golden in the flickering light from the fireplace, her eyes shining with honesty that unnerved and mesmerized the older woman.

"I know this dinner was about thanking me but I want to thank you too."

"Whatever for?"

"For giving Henry this life. For loving him and taking care of him when I couldn't… can't… You've given him a life that I never could have and I'll be forever grateful. And I know I don't have any right to be here but… thank you for letting me be."

Regina sat stock still as her words whirled around in her mind. It was almost dizzying, as she could not focus on a single thought, like billowing smoke just slipping through her fingers. The queen concentrated on keeping her neutral expression, her spine pin straight, and her breathes even. But in reality her heart pounded in her chest like a hammer on an anvil. Emma sat equally as still, her gaze steady on the woman across from her, quietly asking for the brunette to accept the olive branch she had extended. The silence between them was becoming too long. She forced words from her mouth, detached and polite, "It's getting late. If you don't mind, I think I'd like to retire for the evening."

"Of course." Emma gave her a sad smile, seemingly disheartened. Her eyes fell to her lap where she held her forgotten wine glass. Her knuckles were white from clutching her glass so tightly; it seemed a miracle it didn't shatter in her grip. Relaxing her hand, she finished the little bit of rich liquid in the bottom of her glass, hoping for that last swallow to calm her nerves.

She walked Emma to the door, watching as her puffy coat covered her elegant outfit. Though the sweater and slacks were rather simple, the blonde's lithe form made it look like the combination could have come from one of the high-end boutiques that she frequented.

"I had a nice time tonight, thank you." Emma said frankly.

"You're okay to drive?"

"I walked."

"You'll be warm enough?"

"I'll be fine."

"Alright then."

"Well… g' night."

"Good night Ms. Swan." Their conversation became staccato banalities. The sheriff seemed to turn the knob at an agonizing pace and pulled the door open.

"Ms. Swan." Regina stopped her from walking out the door, a cold breeze rushed in and she shivered. Emma looked at her expectantly. "Thank you… for the wine."

"You're welcome." Her voice a whisper on the wind and the door clicked shut leaving Regina alone in the grand foyer. The brunette hastened to snap the lock in place as if someone would come barreling back into her house. She leaned her back against the door, trying to reign in the panic rising in her throat, her chest heaving slightly. Emma had offered her a truce, and maybe more than that, an understanding. The blonde had seemed genuinely interested in her in a way that someone hadn't been in a long time. She had been presented a chance to trust again, take the hand that Emma had innocently extended, not having any clue about the darkness that lurked within the queen.

Emma didn't know that she should be terrified of her, from the moment she had set foot in town; the younger woman had been flagrantly disrespectful and determined to be not intimidated. She should be terrified of her but the truth of the matter was that Regina was terrified of what Emma could do to her life, terrified that she would take everything away from her, terrified that part of her wanted to trust those green eyes that could look at her with such unintentional softness.