A/N: Hey everybody! I'm back at it! I'm at the halfway point of my next original novel, but these two keep dancing around in my head, bickering and bantering and demanding that this story be written. Updates might be a little slower because I'm simultaneously working on the novel and fanfiction, but hopefully the time between posting chapters won't deter you from following this story.

A/N2: Let's pretend that at the beginning of 3B, people who try to cross the town line don't get turned into flying monkeys.

Chapter 1

New York City, New York

Regina stared at her reflection in the rearview mirror of her black Mercedes. She told herself that she was only doing this for Henry. There was no harm in checking in on him to make sure he was happy and had everything he would ever want or need. She wouldn't talk to them; she'd keep her distance and no one would ever know she'd been here. They wouldn't even know who she was anyway if either of them spotted her—she'd made sure of that when she'd sent her son away with his birth mother while she broke the curse that sent everyone back to the Enchanted Forest.

It had been her sacrifice—the price she had to pay. Save everyone she had cursed for 28 years in Storybrooke while simultaneously losing the one person she loved the most. Villains, after all, didn't get a Happy Ending. That was reserved for Princesses and Saviors.

Regina lightly slapped her hand against the leather steering column. Even now she couldn't bring herself to hate Emma, even though from the moment the blonde had driven that yellow tin can of a car into her town she'd done nothing but dismantle everything Regina had worked so tirelessly to create for herself. And now Emma possessed the two things Regina wanted the most: a second chance and Henry.

The only good thing to come from the second curse was this window of opportunity. Yes, she couldn't remember the last year of her life, and yes, she had to team up with the insufferable Charmings to figure out how and why they were back in Storybrooke, but it now afforded her this time during which she might see her son again.

Snow had been the one who'd actually suggested it. Even when they'd been banished to the Enchanted Forest, she and David had never faltered in their faith that one day they'd be reunited with their daughter and grandson. That tiny flicker of hope had remained alive even in Regina's blackened heart thanks to Snow's eternal optimism.

It had taken Regina some time, and she'd exhausted nearly all of her resources, but she'd managed to track Emma and Henry down to a modest two-bedroom apartment in New York City. She didn't know why Emma had chosen New York—she'd assumed she would have returned to Boston, the city Henry had first tracked her down to. But maybe the central ingredient in getting a second chance was to completely divorce yourself from your past, even geographically.

Regina chewed on the inside of her cheek and her grip on the steering wheel tightened when she saw her son walking out of the main doors of his school, talking to some boys she recognized as members of his soccer team. He had friends here. That realization alone had nearly made her cry. Even under the original curse, Henry had been an outsider in Storybrooke. That his mother was the formidable mayor and later the Evil Queen hadn't done much for her son's social life.

Emma's yellow Bug had yet to arrive, so Henry sat down on the concrete steps that led up to his school. Regina slumped down in the driver's seat so she could watch him without being detected. Henry pulled a portable gaming device from his backpack—a mindless toy Regina had only caved into buying him when she'd felt threatened by the novelty of his birth mother's existence. If she'd had her way, Henry would have never known trans fats, high fructose sugar, or violent video games. But he was a teenager now, and teenage boys seemed to run on those things.

Too much time passed, and Regina began to grow angry. She hadn't given up Henry only for him to be forgotten at school. Emma was late. She always picked Henry up from school on her way home from a small bail bondsperson office near Central Park. Regina began to plan the verbal lashing she would give Miss Swan whenever she decided to show up. She glanced at the clock on her dashboard—if Emma ever showed up.

When she returned her attention back to Henry, the boy was stashing his Game Boy into his backpack and slinging the bag over one shoulder. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his grey wool jacket and began to walk.

Regina's eyes followed her son as he began the trek home. "Henry," she chastised aloud, "do you really think you're going to walk all the way home by yourself in one of the most dangerous cities in all the realms?" She shook her head. "No. You most certainly are not."

She grabbed her purse off the passenger seat and threw her car keys inside. She regarded her reflection once more in the rearview mirror. "Stay far enough away," she couched herself, "and he'll never know you were here."

The heels of her designer boots clicked on the concrete. The sidewalks were filled with young professionals on their way home from work, forcing Regina to dodge and weave around clusters of people to keep up with Henry's brisk walk. Henry continued to play his game console as he walked. He barely looked up from the screen as he traveled the busy New York sidewalks. Regina could have been walking next to him and he wouldn't have even noticed, she mused to herself.

She had to admit there was a certain charm to this city in wintertime. The sun was starting to set, and young trees filled with tiny white twinkle lights lined either side of the street. She buried her hands deeper into the pockets of her wool trench coat and tucked her chin into her chest to stave off a brisk wind.

Henry made a right turn down a narrow alley—a short cut perhaps. A frown came to Regina's painted lips. It appeared as though they were in a moderately safe neighborhood, but the detour seemed to invite unnecessary trouble. This wasn't Storybrooke.

Regina jerked to a stop when she saw Henry had stopped. A man, tall and broad shoulders, stood in her son's way. He wore a black knit cap and a grey hooded sweatshirt. Regina hastened her step. She didn't like the look of the man or that he was talking to Henry. As she closed the distance, she could hear their conversation.

"Hand it over, kid. You don't wanna get hurt over some toy. Your Mommy and Daddy will buy you a new one."

"No they will not."

It took Regina a moment to recognize the bold voice as her own.

Both Henry and the man turned in Regina's direction. The man's eyes narrowed. "Keep walkin' lady. This ain't your business," he said in a thick New York accent.

"I'm afraid it's very much my business," Regina returned coolly.

She pulled a gloved hand out of her jacket pocket. She held her hand palm up and her fingers curled. But nothing happened. No fireball hovered over her hand. There was no magic in this place.

Regina looked up in alarm.

The man chuckled darkly. "Looks like I get two bags for the price of one. Hand it over, sister."

Regina took mental inventory of the possessions in her purse as she clutched it tightly against her chest. The keys to her Mercedes, still parked outside of Henry's school. Her wallet and credit cards. A tube of her favorite lipstick. Her cell phone. The keycard to her hotel room in Manhattan.

"Take my Game Boy," Henry said. He shoved the handheld devise into the man's hands. "You don't need to steal from her, too."

Even without magic, Regina refused to be afraid. She had leveled a kingdom, destroyed whole cities, and brought powerful men to their knees. There was no way a common thief was going to get the upper hand on the Evil Queen. She pulled herself to her full height and lifted a defiant chin.

"I suggest you keep walking and leave us be," she challenged the man. She took a daring step forward. Her heels sounded like gunshots on the pavement.

Regina cried out when the man lunged forward and snatched the purse from her grip. She heard a tearing noise as the handle of her bag ripped out of her hands.

"You idiot!" she growled. "You unwashed imbecile!" Anger bubbled just beneath the surface. She would destroy this man, magic or not.

"Stop right there."

Regina froze at the familiar voice. The threatening man did as well.

Emma Swan stood at the entrance of the alley with her long legs a shoulder's width apart. The ridiculous red leather jacket was gone, but the skin-tight jeans tucked into brown leather boots were the same. She trained her gun on the would-be mugger. "Drop it," she barked.

"Let's not do anything crazy," the man said, slowly raising his arms up.

"Then drop the purse," Emma's voice rose in pitch and in annoyance.

The failed thief underhanded the purse in Emma's direction. When she lowered her weapon to catch the flying bag, the mugger ran off while her attention was otherwise preoccupied.

"He's getting away!" Henry yelled.

Emma's body twitched with indecision. Her training as a bail bondsperson told her to run after the bad guy, but her maternal instinct demanded she stay put. Henry was here, and he was safe, and that was all that mattered.

"It's okay," she settled on. "Let him go."

Henry threw his arms around Emma's waist. "Ma! This lady tried to save me from being mugged!" He hesitated and looked momentarily thoughtful. "And then you saved her!"

Emma regarded the dark-haired woman. "You did that?" she asked in wonder. "You tried to help my son?"

"I was just in the right place at the right time." Regina cast her eyes to the pavement. It was hard for her to look Emma or Henry in the eyes and not see any recognition reflected there. "Anyone would have done the same."

"Not in this city," Emma observed with a snort. "You could be bleeding out in the middle of Times Square and be hard pressed to find someone willing to help. Thank you."

Regina finally looked up and instantly regretted it. She bit the inside of her lower lip. Emma's green-eyed stare had her frozen to the concrete. "You're welcome."

Emma looked down at the designer purse now safe in her hands. "I never understood these things. It's like walking around with a flashing neon sign. 'Come rob me! I have money!'"

Regina stiffened, but didn't say anything. She could get away with scathing banter with Emma Swan, the Sheriff of Storybrooke, but not this woman. They were strangers to one another, and strangers didn't banter, she had to remind herself.

"What were you thinking taking on a mugger on your own?" Emma challenged.

"You didn't seem to have a problem doing the same," Regina countered.

"Yeah, but I'm armed, and I deal with scum like that guy every day."

Regina shrugged, helpless without an answer that wouldn't mess everything up. "I couldn't stand by and do nothing."

"Where were you?" Henry prodded his birthmother, interrupting the rapid back and forth. "You didn't pick me up from school. I had to walk."

"I know, kid. I'm sorry." Emma raked her fingers through her blonde waves. "I was late getting out of a meeting at the precinct."

"Why didn't you call?" Regina winced when she realized she'd inserted herself into the conversation. She pressed her lips together. She kept speaking out loud without meaning to.

"He doesn't have a cell phone," Emma said, warily eyeballing the curious woman.

"He doesn't?"

"No. I'm of the mindset that I'd rather my son pay attention to his surroundings than stare all day at a screen."

"Then perhaps the gaming device wasn't a savvy purchase," Regina pointed out.

Emma snatched the portable gaming device out of her son's hands. "He's not supposed to be walking and playing this thing. Henry," she hissed, "how many times have I told you about that?"

The boy hung his head and his hair, which was longer than Regina remembered, fell into his eyes. "Sorry, Ma."

Emma's phone chirped in the back pocket of her jeans. She silenced it after looking at the screen.

"Was that Walsh?" Henry asked.

"Yeah. I'll call him back later," Emma noted absently.

"Who's Walsh?" Regina found herself asking.

"My mom's boyfriend," Henry interjected.

Regina sucked in a sharp breath that she hoped Emma didn't hear. It had been a year. Of course Emma would have found someone. That's what people did when they had a second chance, even if they weren't conscious that they had been given one.

"He's not—" Emma cut herself off. She and the furniture salesman had been dating for the better part of eight months. She didn't know why she had such a problem with labels like "boyfriend." Yes she did, she mentally chided herself. Neal. Her parents. When you gave someone a title, it gave them power to hurt you. There was only one significant label in her life—her son.

"We're having breakfast for dinner tonight," Henry chirped. "You should come."

Regina swallowed down her surging hope and joy. It felt like an ambush on her emotions.

"I'm sure she's got better things to do, Henry," Emma mumbled.

"I really don't." Regina felt a pink blush dust the apples of her cheeks. Her traitorous mouth was at it again. If she had had access to magic, she'd remove her own tongue.

"Oh, well, uh, do you … do you want to have dinner with us tonight?" Emma stammered. "It's the least I can do to thank you for coming to Henry's aid."

Regina looked between Henry and his birthmother. She could tell Emma was only extending the invitation because Henry had done so first and she couldn't take it back without being rude. She didn't want a pity invitation, but it was more time with Henry before she had to go back to Storybrooke.

Finally, she flashed a practiced, painted smile. "I'd love to come to dinner."

TBC