"I'm never going to get this," Henry sighs in frustration as he tosses down his pencil and slumps in his chair. He takes a few quick breaths and Regina can tell he's on the verge of tears and it makes her heart clench in her chest—it's so difficult to watch him struggle this way, to watch a boy who is usually so curious and determined completely shut down and not even want to try.

A few days after returning to Storybrooke, she'd registered him for school—and he'd seemed tentatively excited about the prospect of starting; though, she now suspects his excitement was less for school itself than it was for a sense of normalcy that he'd always wanted but could never really have. They'd bought his uniform and all of the necessary supplies, and spent a day running errands collecting everything from dress socks to brightly colored notebooks. When they'd gotten home, she'd made him try on the uniform one more time simply because he looked so cute in the sports coat and tie and he'd half-heartedly humored her, trying on the various combinations of uniform choices until it was dinner time. After dinner, they'd spread out all the supplies, labeling the folders and notebooks and taking things like scissors and glue out of their packages and nestling them into his crayon box. Everything was tucked away into his new Captain America backpack and put in his closet for safe-keeping until school started in September.

Then, his entrance exam scores came back—and there was a note from the principal asking for a meeting. Regina hadn't told Henry about the meeting and arranged for Granny to watch him, buying him a plate of onion rings and a milkshake to keep him occupied and out of the way while she was at the elementary school. The principal noted the obvious gaps in Henry's education and assured her that the school had the necessary programs in place to bring Henry up to grade-level by the end of third grade. While he'd actually scored far above grade-level in reading and vocabulary, it was obvious that he struggled in math and inconsistent patterns of school hadn't helped. He gave her a flyer for their after-school tutoring program and a list of materials she could purchase and use to work with Henry before the year started. She purchased the items that same evening and much to Henry's dismay, practicing math problems became part of their daily routine. She tried to make it fun, turning the workbook into a series of challenges and games, but no matter what, Henry struggled and almost always ended their little sessions in tears.

"I think it's time for a break, anyway," she says as she reaches out and runs her fingers through the front of his hair. "We'll pick up again after dinner, okay?" Henry just nods as he stares down at the long division problems they've been working on for the better part of an hour. Leaning over, Regina closes the workbook and pushes it away from him before reaching out and lifting his chin with her fingers. "You'll get it eventually," she assures him before pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. "I promise."

"It doesn't feel like it," he murmurs in barely a whisper as his eyes fall away. "I've never been good at math. My foster dad used to make fun of me for it. He was really good at it."

Regina feels her jaw tense at the thought of that. She takes a breath and pulls away from him, not wanting him to sense her tension and misunderstand it. "Some things just take time," she says, leaning back in her chair as Henry just stares at the table space where the workbook had been. "Hey, why don't you take your mind off long division for awhile and go get then mail. Then you can help me make dinner."

At the mention of dinner, Henry perks up, finally looking up at her on his own accord. "What are we having tonight?"

"Chicken piccata."

Henry blinks. "I don't know what that is."

Regina just laughs, gently tapping the back of her hand against his arm. "Go on. Grab the mail and then you'll find out."

Taking a breath, she stands and collects the workbook and pencil, the sharpener and eraser and dusts off the table, making a mental note to run the vacuum underneath the table to collect the eraser bits when Henry goes upstairs for his shower. She goes to the kitchen, dropping the items onto the counter before going to the refrigerator and pulling out the thawed chicken and a bag of lemons. Before she can even set them down on the island counter, she hears the front door slam and Henry's footsteps clattering toward the kitchen.

"Hey, mom?" She hears Henry call as he runs toward the kitchen, her heart warming as a smile edges onto her lips—he started calling her that about a week before, and every time he does, she has the same reaction. "Mom, something came from New York."

"Oh yeah?" She asks, her eyebrow arching as he enters the kitchen. Her eyes fall slowly from Henry to manila envelope in his hands and a slow smile works its way over her lips as her heart begins to pound in anticipation—the adoption papers have arrived.

Though she's not proud of it, life in this world has taught her that a person with her wealth and position can exercise a certain amount of power, and with power comes influence—and that influence can be used to bend rules and speed up processes. She used that to her advantage and she'd had no qualms about it. The night Henry had confided in her about his nightmares—confiding his fears of not being wanted and never feeling good enough—she'd made a phone call to his social worker and by the end, it was agreed that his adoption would be pushed through immediately. And finally, for the first time in his life he'd have a sense of stability. And while she wasn't sure that that would stop his nightmares, she hoped that he'd find comfort in it when he woke.

"Can you open it for me?" Regina asks, pretending to be too busy with the chicken to open it.

From the corner of her eye she watches as Henry takes a breath and slips his fingers beneath the seal, slowly tearing the top of the envelope open. He reaches in and unfolds the paper, his hands trembling as his breath hitches in his throat as he reads over the first line. He closes his eyes and swallows hard, and she hears him inhale sharply as his eyes flutter back open, this time, they're filled with tears. Again, his breath hitches as his eyes scan over the rest of the letter, then he slowly reaches for the second sheet—his amended birth certificate, baring his new name. Slowly, he looks up at her and his lips purse, but no words come. He shakes his head and looks back at the certificate, and then back to her as his breath again hitches in his throat—he's at a loss for words.

She feels her own tears beginning to rise as she turns toward him and kneels down. His eyes look directly into hers and without saying anything, he flings himself forward, throwing himself into her arms and link his own arms around her neck. He holds on tightly as her arms instinctively fold around him, hugging him close as he begins to cry. She presses a soft kiss to the top of his head as her own tears begin to fall.

"So, I guess its official then," she whispers, as she rests her cheek atop his head, holding him as he cries. "You're stuck with me."

She feels him laugh before he pulls back slightly, his hands still clutching the sleeves of her shirt. "Yeah," he says as a lopsided grin forms on his lips. "I guess so."

"So, I think we should celebrate this," Regina says, laughing a little as she reaches out and wipes away his tears with her thumbs. "Do you think we should celebrate?"

He nods, sniffling back his tears as his grin deepens. "I think we should celebrate." Henry pauses. "With pizza."

"That's all?" She laughs. "That's the best you can do?"

"A movie, too," he adds quickly, "The Incredible Hulk just game out on DVD."

"Pizza and a movie," Regina says with a definitive nod, "I can do that." Leaning in, she presses a quick kiss to Henry's forehead. "You're sure easy to please."

Henry giggles as she gets to her feet. "Can we…make the pizza?"

She turns, looking down at him, "You…want to make it instead of order it? We don't have any pepperoni and we can't stuff the crust with cheese. And no matter what, I can't figure out the mixture of spices Granny puts on those breadsticks."

He nods and shrugs his shoulders, "That's okay. I really like cooking with you. It's kind of…our thing."

She can't stop the smile that forms on her lips and she nods toward the cabinet. "Go grab the card with the dough recipe on it and I'll put away the stuff for the chicken piccata." Henry nods excitedly and she watches for a moment as he climbs onto one of stools and opens the cabinet, thumbing through the cards in her recipe box until he finds the one for the pizza crust. He smiles triumphantly when he finds it, then carefully puts the box back in its place. Her heart flutters as she watches him grin down at the card—and she can't help but think that he's the most precious thing she's ever had and she loves him more than she ever knew was possible.

He jumps down from the stool and runs back to her, smiling so brightly that it almost breaks her heart—because the security she's given him is fragile and he has no idea. Taking a breath, she pushes those thoughts away and smiles back, not wanting anything to ruin this moment.

On the last official day of summer vacation, they find themselves at the park enjoying the warm summer air and the last bit of freedom before the school year starts and things inevitably become more chaotic. Regina settles back on the bench, watching Henry play on the jungle gym—all afternoon he's been intent on mastering the monkey bars and she's intent on ensuring that he doesn't fall. Though she's settled down considerably over the course of the hour they've been at the park, each time he swings from bar to bar, her heart leaps and every time he falls into the sand, her heart drops into her stomach and she has to fight the urge to run to him and scoop him up and just to be sure that he's okay.

"Roland! Roland, slow down!"

She turns at the sound of a man's voice and looks in his direction, watching as a curly-haired little boy runs toward the playground. He stops beside the bench where she sits, shaking his head as he smiles down at her. "It's all fun and games until he skins his knees."

Regina grins and nods, "They think they're unbreakable."

"Indeed they do," he returns with a smile. "Is that your boy?"

She nods proudly, "Yes—and every time he climbs up onto those things, my stomach flips."

He laughs and nods, and then extends his hand. "Robin Locksley."

"Regina Mills," she says, as she shakes his hand and smiles politely.

"Oh, right—the mayor—I'm sorry, I should have known that."

"Don't worry about it," she replies with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"Is that the boy you adopted? He certainly is a lucky one." Her eyebrow arches in reply and he smiles awkwardly, "I read about it in the paper. I—I'm sorry if…"

"It's really okay," she replies with an easy nod and a smile as she glances back to the playground, her smile deepening as she watches Henry reach the other side of the monkey bars. He smiles proudly at the accomplishment—and then, to her dismay, he starts all over again.

"Would you mind if I sat down?"

"Oh…" she murmurs, smiling tentatively as she nods, "Not at all." He smiles back at her as he sits down at her side—and for a brief moment, she's distracted by the smell of forest. She smiles faintly, enjoying it more than she should. "You…work at the sporting goods store on Main Street, don't you?"

"I do," Robin says as he settles on the bench as an amused grin stretches over his lips. "You've shopped there?"

"No, I haven't," she says slowly. "I'm not really…an outdoorsy kind of girl." She pauses and chuckles softly to herself. "We pass it all the time and I recognized your son…from the window."

"He loves to play in those displays," he tells her with a small laugh. "He's especially fond of the kayak."

"As is my son."

"Is he? You should bring him by then—he can sit in it and pretend he's having an adventure on Lake Champlain, discovering the new world."

"Henry would…love that."

"So, unlike you, he's fond of the great outdoors?"

"He's fond of any sort of adventure," Regina says.

"Well, then you really have to bring him by–we have archery lessons and survival skills classes, and other sorts of kids classes that I'm sure an adventurous kid like Henry would enjoy…though, you might be bored to tears, not being outdoorsy and all."

At that she laughs out, surprised at how easy it is to talk to this man—a man who is practically a stranger, a man who ordinarily she wouldn't have given the time of day. She's never been one to make small-talk, never one to be overly social—the fact that that it was pointless to do so in a place like Storybrooke was only a small part of the reason. Yet somehow this seems worthwhile.

Regina stands outside of the elementary school in a sea of parents, ringing her hands as she waits impatiently for Henry to emerge after his first day of school. She looks around and everyone else seems so relaxed, yet she's a mess—though, she ventures they've all had more practice at this. Since finding Henry that night in New York, this is the most time they've spent apart. Aside from the occasional meeting when he stays with her secretary or at the diner with Granny, he's always with her.

That morning she'd awoken early and from the moment her eyes fluttered open—a solid hour before her alarm was set to go off—she'd been a complete wreck. She tried to hide it, but Henry had noticed and when she knelt down to tie his tie, he'd placed his small hand on her shoulder and smiled sweetly, reminding her that it was just school and it was only a half-day—besides that, he'd done this before and he'd be okay. She's smiled back and kissed his cheek and he promised that after school, he'd tell her everything about his day. At first, the comment had very much seemed for her benefit, but as the day went on, she realized it as likely just as much for him as it was for her; it wasn't likely that anyone had ever cared enough to ask about his day—and it made her miss him even more.

Finally, Henry emerges from the school and she watches as his eyes scan the crowd, looking for her. She waves and he spots her, smiling brightly as he waves back and runs in her direction. She laughs as he slams into her legs and wraps his arms around her waist, hugging her quickly before taking her hand and letting her lead him away from the crowd.

"So, how was it?"

"It was…good," Henry says easily. "I have my own desk with my name on it and my own cubby to keep my stuff in," he says, his words rattling off quickly. "Since it was a half day we didn't have recess or lunch, so that was good because I was worried about that since I don't know anyone yet. And math was really short, so that was good, too. My teacher is Ms. Blanchard," he says, swinging their hands back and forth as they walk toward Main Street. "She's nice, but she's…kind of weird."

A smirk forms on Regina's lips, "Oh yeah? How so?"

"Well, she talks to birds and that kind of reminds of this lady who used to sit in Central Park and have full conversations with pigeons," Regina laughs out, but before she can say anything, Henry continues. "And she doesn't like apples…which is weird because all teachers like those."

Again, Regina laughs harder than she should. "So I was thinking," she begins, letting her thoughts drift away from Mary Margaret Blanchard and back to Henry. "I took the rest of the day off, so how about we have lunch at Granny's then we can go home and…"

"Please don't say practice math."

"How about only for a half an hour today?"

"Fine," Henry says with a sigh. "It's better than a whole hour, I guess."

"So, if an hour is 60 minutes, and we're dividing it in half…"

"Mooooom…"

"What?"

"Please don't ruin lunch with math."

"Fine," she says as they turn down Main Street. "What I was going to say was when we get home maybe we can be lazy for awhile…get into our pajamas and watch movie." She grins. "Maybe even have popcorn for dinner."

"Really?" Henry asks, his eye growing wide. "You'd let me have popcorn for dinner?"

Regina pulls the diner door open, "Well considering you usually eat enough food to feed a small village when we come here, I think it's a definite possibility that dinner could be more of a snack."

Henry laughs as Ruby flags them toward an open booth—the diner is crowded and for a few minutes, their conversation halts as Henry scans the menu. Though he hasn't said it, it seems that he's determined to try every item on the menu and when he's settled on his choice, he grins up at her.

"What movie do you want to watch?"

She shrugs her shoulder, "I don't know. I figured I'd let you choose."

"But I always choose."

"Somehow, I don't think you'd enjoy the heart-wrenching love stories that…" She stops when Henry's nose crinkles. "Exactly…"

"What about Indiana Jones?"

"Oh, straying away from the superhero movies?"

Henry giggles and shrugs, "It's less about super heroes and more about…heroes, or maybe even just people doing heroic things." Her brow furrows, somewhat surprised by such a nuanced statement from an eight year old. "Besides, he has a whip and a cool hat."

"Well, well, well. Look who it is…" Regina feels her jaw tense as she looks up to see Graham standing at the table. "Here I thought you'd fallen off the face of the earth."

Her shoulders square as she offers him a disinterested sigh. "That's hardly true. You knew I was back from New York."

"Ah yes—I had to hear from Granny that you'd finally returned from your week-long shopping get away." He pauses. "And I also had to hear from Granny that you'd returned with…some rather fascinating new belongings."

"Is that supposed to be me?" Henry asks, his brow furrowing and his face scrunching as he looks between Regina and Graham. "If it is, you can just say it…"

She offers him a tight smile and a curt nod as her eyes glance toward Henry. "This isn't a good time, Graham."

"I say that it is. Who knows when I'll be able to catch you next?" He shrugs his shoulders, "After all, you've been so busy playing house that you've barely even been at your office and you haven't returned a single call or text."

"I can work at home," she counters, her eyes narrowing as once more her jaw tightens. "And I hardly owe you an explanation." She pauses and her voice lowers, as she stares at him with hard eyes. "You made that quite clear before I went to New York. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm trying to have lunch with my son."

For a moment, Graham says nothing. He only scoffs and shakes his head as his jaw tightens with indignation. "You know, Regina…"

"I believe she said this wasn't a good time."

Regina's eyes shift past Graham to see Robin standing behind him, his arms crossed over his chest with Roland standing beside him, holding onto his pant leg. His jaw is stern and his eyes narrow when Graham turns to face him.

"This doesn't concern you," Graham says dismissively.

Robin shrugs, "Maybe not, but you're making a scene public place and the lady very politely asked you to stop."

"Lady," he scoffs. "That's hilarious."

Robin takes a short step in, then stops and Regina watches his jaw tense as his voice drops to a loud whisper. "Come on, man. She's here trying to have lunch with her kid."

"Her kid, huh?" Graham laughs. "You're a real joker. Just because she brought home a new pet-project doesn't make her a…"

"Okay, sheriff," Granny interjects coolly. "It's time to go."

Graham's eyes widen as he turns to Granny. "You don't even like her."

Slowly, Regina glances to Henry, watching as he watches the scene unfolding with concerned eyes. She can't quite tell what he's thinking or feeing and she hopes she doesn't have to explain too much about who Graham is to her—because, in all honesty, she's not sure who Graham is or was to her. And she certainly hopes that he hasn't taken anything Graham has said to heart.

"Yeah, well I like her kid," Granny counters. "He doesn't need to listen to you berating his mother and neither do the rest of my customers who are just here trying to enjoy their lunch."

With an exasperated sigh, Graham leaves and she momentarily wonders why he was so upset—after all, he'd been the one to end things between them before she went to New York. But she doesn't linger on it more than a moment; instead she turns her attention to Henry.

"Are you okay?" Henry nods easily and slowly, she turns her eyes to Robin. "Um…thank you," she says, unsure of what to say to him and still completely caught off guard by his defense of her. "You didn't have to…do that."

"Well, he didn't seem to be hearing you, so I thought, perhaps, he'd hear me."

She nods, "Well…thank you. I…um…appreciate it."

Before anyone can say anything else, Granny returns with a bag in-hand. "This one's on the house, Locksley."

"Oh, but…"

"But nothing," Granny insists. "Take it and enjoy your lunch with your boy."

Robin smiles and offers her a sincere thank you before turning his attention back to Regina and Henry. "Well, then. I suppose this is goodbye for now. I hope the two of you have a pleasant afternoon," he says, his blue eyes sparking as he gives her a quick smile and wink. Regina smiles uncomfortably, wondering what exactly 'for now' means and what the wink was all about.

"Wait," she hears Henry says, looking up with wide eyes as Robin turns back and Henry grins. "Do you have plans tonight?" Robin looks from Henry to Regina and a grin tugs at the corner his mouth. "We're watching Indiana Jones tonight. Do you and Roland want to come over?" Regina feels her stomach drop and her mouth goes dry and no matter how hard she tries, she can't push out the words to stop all of this. "We're also having popcorn."

For a second, Robin says nothing. He glances quickly at Roland, whose large brown eyes are wide as he nods excitedly at the prospect, and then his grin widens. "We'd love to…if it's okay with your mother."

"Uhm, y-eah. It's…fine with me," Regina barely chokes out.

"Great. I'll bring dinner. What time should we be there?"

"Oh, that's not…necessary…I…"

"Six," Henry says decisively.

"Roland and I will be there," Robin says, grinning as he looks between them. "I'll see you two later."

Regina can only nod as she watches them go and her eyes widen as they shift back to Henry. "What are you doing!?"

"He likes you," Henry says with a giggle. "And I think you like him."

"How would you know something like that?"

"I'm eight," Henry says shrugging his shoulders. "I know about things like that."

Regina can't help the smirk that forms over her lips. "Do you?"

"I spent a lot of my time people-watching in New York," Henry says with a nod, his expression turning serious. "He really does like you."

"And suppose I don't like him?"

"But you do." A small smile edges onto Henry's lips. "He's the man who held the door open for us."

"Holding a door open does mean…"

"But he's the one who smelled like forest," Henry interjects. "And every time we walk by the sporting goods store, he looks at you…like…really looks at you and he smiles, even though you can't see him." Regina's eyes narrow—she's never once noticed that. "Besides, I saw you guys talking in the park yesterday."

"Henry, that doesn't mean…"

"Take the kid's advice," Granny cuts in as she pulls out her notebook and clicks the top of her pen. "You could certainly do worse than Robin Locksley, Madam Mayor."

Regina's mouth drops open and Henry giggles as Granny looks at her with a raised eyebrow—and then she finds herself laughing a little because she did enjoy chatting with him in the park and he does seem to genuinely like her. And though she's not sure she wants to get involved with anyone, she has to admit—life would be a lot less lonely with a friend.