Meant to Be Yours

by grayautumnsky13

On a weekend trip to New York City, Regina Mills finds a little boy named Henry living on the street after running away from an abusive foster home.

16. Chapter 16

"Knock, knock," Robin's voice calls as he pokes his head into her office—and almost immediately, a smile pulls across her lips. She waves him in as she gets up and rounds the desk, taking a few long strides toward him to take some of the bags he's carrying. When she reaches him, he leans in and pecks her lips, and her breath catches in her chest as she blinks up at him, still not completely used to the subtle and common shows of affection. "Thank you," he murmurs, stepping back as she takes one of the bags.

"When you said lunch," she begins as she eyes the bags he's holding. "I assumed… well… a couple of take-out containers from Granny's not… enough food to feed the entire town."

Chuckling softly, he nods toward the plastic bag at her fingertips. "That is take-out from Granny's. This," he adds, holding up the other bags, "is a little something to go with lunch." He offers her a wink as he steps deeper into the office, kicking her door shut as he makes his way toward the couch. "Something to make it a little more fun."

"Fun?"

"Fun," he nods. "After all, you're working on a day off."

Shifting toward him, her shoulders shrug. "Well, Henry had school and I… I hate being home alone."

"You could have called me," he says as he sets the bags down on the floor and begins rummaging through one. "I would have been glad to entertain you for the day."

"You have to work."

"At a store that I own," he tells, grinning broadly as he brandishes a large flannel blanket. "I could have had someone else work for me. That's the beauty of owning the store you work at."

"A couple of days before Christmas?" She asks in a skeptical voice, raising her brow as he fans the blanket out on the floor. "I'm stunned that you were able to sneak away for lunch."

"Well, then you could have come to me."

"To you?"

"You could have come into the store," he grins up at her as he smoothes the blanket on the floor. "As you just pointed out, we could have used all the help we could get this morning."

"I hardly think I'm equipped to sell skis and hiking gear," she tells him, looking down at her pencil skirt and three-inch heels. "I'm not exactly an authority on…"

"You could be an authority on anything," he tells her. "All you'd have to is give any of my customers that look you give your secretary, and they'd buy whatever it is you were trying to sell them."

Regina nods and sigh, bristling a bit uncomfortably at the assertion that people fear her and that Robin knows it—but she can't say that it's untrue or that fear hasn't proven a useful tactic. "What are you doing down there?" She asks, shifting the subject as she leans up onto the tips of her toes, her eyebrows arching as he lifts a corkscrew from the bag.

"Setting up our picnic," he tells her as he works the corkscrew into the wine cork, "Which, I have to say, would be a lot nicer if you and our food were over here."

She laughs a little as she steps around the couch, grinning a little awkwardly as she kneels down on the blanket and he takes the bag. She tucks her legs underneath herself as he hands her a glass of wine, and when he smiles at her she feels her heart flutter.

"So, every year," he begins as he opens the containers, "Roland and I have this little Christmas Eve tradition."

"Oh, yeah? Tell me about it."

"Well, we rent a bunch of movies and we order Chinese food—sweet and sour chicken, fried rice, egg rolls are usually on the menu—and we cuddle up on the couch, watch the movies and eat until we're sick." He grins as he hands her a paper-wrapped sandwich. "And we were hoping that—as long as I can promise to have the two of you home by nine-thirty—you and Henry would be there this year."

"Ahh…"

"I know you have big plans for Christmas day, but…"

"We'd love to," she interjects as a smile pulls onto her lips. "Aside from the eating until we're sick part, it sounds like a… wonderful evening."

Robin grins as he dips a sweet potato fry into a little cup of ketchup. "Then its set," he says, biting in the fry. "Any requests? Movies you want to see? Food you want to eat?"

"Surprise us."

He nods, watching as he takes a bite of her sandwich—and once more, she feels her stomach flutter. He looks so pleased with himself, smiling at her with sparkling eyes, and she can almost see him planning their evening together. She smiles, too, thinking cuddling up in his arms and letting him hold her as a fire crackles and pops; she thinks of the boys struggling with their chop sticks and giggling at some cheesy holiday movie with an overly predictable plot, and she thinks about chaste stolen kisses and linger touches—and her heart almost aches in anticipation.

"What about you?" He asks, swallowing a large bite of his burger. "Any favorite traditions?"

"Oh," she breathes out. "I… don't really have any. I, um, haven't ever celebrated."

"I'm sorry, I shoud have realized that you…"

"It's okay," she interjects quickly. "Even… before… yuletide festivities were never something I participated in."

"Not even as a girl?"

"Especially not as a girl," she murmurs—and then, as the words leave her lips, there's a flicker of memory that begins and has a smile pulling up from the corners of her mouth. "Well," she says, smiling almost shyly as she looks down at her sandwich and plucks a piece of the crust from the bread. "There was this one time…"

"Tell me," he urges in sweetly sincere voice.

"I… almost forgot about it," she says, shaking her head as dabs the piece of crust against the sandwich, soaking up a little of the sauce. "I was seventeen and it was snowing…" She looks up and he smiles, watching her intently as if what she's telling him is the most interesting thing he'll ever hear, and for just a second, her voice catches in her throat. "Daniel, this boy who worked in the stables on my family's estates…"

"The boy who loved you."

She blinks, "Oh,'s right… you've read my story."

"I'd still prefer to hear you tell it," he says. "And I don't believe this particular story made it into the book."

Popping the piece of crust into her mouth, she nods as she remembers—and the smile stretches across her lips. "There was a snow storm and I snuck out to the stables because I thought my horse could use an extra blanket and… well… I was hoping to see him."

"Did you?"

She nods, "When I got to the stables, he was there. He was brushing Rocinante and he looked up at me, and he smiled and…" She sighs. "We ended up spending the entire night, laying on the hay bales up in the loft, telling each other ghost stories." Shaking her head, she looks back to Robin. "We said we'd do it again the next year, but…"

"But there wasn't a next year."

"No…" Her eyes sink closed for a moment as she thinks about the warmth of the stables that evening and the way it felt to have Daniel lying beside her. It had all been so innocent, so unrushed, and they'd really believed there would be a next year and year after that and another after that. They thought they had time. "That was a lifetime ago."

"It was," Robin replies as his hand slides over hers and she looks down, watching the way his fingers gently stoke over the back of her hand and when she looks up, his eyes are still soft and sincere and so full of love.

"I never thought I'd have this again," she tells him. "I never thought I'd… find someone else who…" Her voice trails off and she sighs a little as she feels a lump rising in the back of her throat—and almost on instinct, Robin's fingers wrap around her hand, giving it a reassuring little squeeze. "Who looks at me the way you do, who loves me the way you do."

He lets out a little sigh. "I wish we'd have found each other sooner."

"It would never have worked," she tells him, shaking her head. "You'd never have remembered…"

"But you would have." Her brow creases and he takes a breath. "Can I ask you something? I've wanted to ask you this for awhile, but I wasn't quite sure how or if you'd want to talk about it…"

"Okay," she murmurs, shifting uncomfortably as she suddenly remembers her wine. Reaching for it, she takes a long sip. "Ask away."

"What happens to my memories if the curse isn't broken?"

"Oh," she breathes out, hesitating for a moment. "Your memories aren't permanent. They'd fade away, just like all the others… just like they always have."

For a moment, he's quiet—and her heart begins to beat a little faster as he stares out at the glowing fire. She takes a breath, reminding herself that he's still rubbing at her wrist and he doesn't look upset, and she reminds herself that her worrying is unjustified.

"So, I'd have the chance to fall in love with you all over again," he says finally, his smile brightening as their eyes meet. "I'd have loved to have that chance again and again and again…"

She lets out a breath as her throat tightens and she feels warm tears brimming in her eyes. "I… don't understand how you're so okay with all of this. With everything that I've done… the curse… and…"

"I'll admit," he begins in a tentative voice. "There was a part of me that was furious when I found out—but it was a small part. We all do things we regret, things we're not proud of—and, when all is said and done, it wasn't personal. You weren't trying to hurt me or my son or anyone that I care about…" His voice trails off and he chuckles softly, shaking his head as he gives her hand yet another reassuring little squeeze. "I love you. I don't care who you were or what you did because all of those things—the good and the bad—led us to this point we're at right now. And, no matter what, I can't be upset about that."

Letting out a shaky breath she leans forward, dropping her sandwich back into the container and pushing her wine glass aside. Her fingers rub against the stubble on his cheeks and she offers him a tearful smile as she presses her lips to his, kissing him. One of his hands pushes into her hair as the other strokes against her hip as he kisses her back—soft and sweet at first, but with a building intensity. Her tongue slides against his and her heart beats a little faster as she begins to ease herself back, pulling him along with her. Robin shifts himself over her, as his lips pull away from hers, sliding against her jaw, and as her eyes flutter, she lets out a content little sigh.

"Madam Mayor, your…" Her secretary's voice halts and Robin's head lifts, his eyes widening a little as her secretary steps into to office. "Madam Mayor?"

Regina feels her cheeks flush and she grimaces as she pushes Robin up, and she takes a deep breath as she sits up and smoothes her skirt then clears her throat. By the time her secretary's eyes drift over to where she is, the color has drained from her cheeks and her gaze has hardened. "Yes?"

"Your one o'clock appointment is here."

"I'm in the middle of a meeting."

"Oh, but you scheduled…"

"He'll have to wait," she cuts in, her voice cool and void of emotion. "Tell him it'll be another ten minutes."

"Of course, Madam Mayor," the secretary says with a nod as she turns out of the office—and Robin pulls himself up, chuckling softly as he looks back to her with wide eyes.

"I am… so sorry," she murmurs, her cheeks flushing once again. "I completely forgot that I…"

"It's okay," he's quick to say, leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. "As you pointed out, this is a busy time of year and I should be getting back to the store."

"Right…"

"I'll help clean up."

"Thank you," she replies, as they awkwardly get to their feet, collecting the wine glasses and half-eaten food. "Robin…"

"Really, its okay," he tells her with a wink. "Call me if you need help getting things together for Christmas Day."

"I… think I've got everything I need," she says, bending to pull up the blanket. "But…"

"Call me anyway," he tells her, taking the blanket and taking the chance to drop one last kiss onto her cheek. "And I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah," she nods. "I'll see you tomorrow."

A few hours later, she's picking Henry up from school, and he's bounding toward her, bright-eyed and smiling. The whole way home he chatters on about having two full weeks off—and when he hints at getting a vacation of math, she regretfully informs him otherwise. They have a quiet dinner of spaghetti and meatballs together and as they eat he tells her all about the Christmas bingo game they played and the carols they sang to the kindergarteners. Her smile warms as he tells her how he'd waved at Roland as they passed his classroom. Together they do the dishes and he claims again and again that he'll be staying up far past his bedtime—but nonetheless, at nine thirty, his eye lids are drooping and she's tucking him into bed, and he falls asleep before she even finishes the chapter of The Chamber of Secrets they'd started.

She stays with him for awhile after he's fallen asleep, holding him as she rubs his back. Breathing him in, she closes her eyes, not letting her thoughts wander too far away from the present moment, keeping herself from thinking of all the years she missed with him and reminding herself that they're together now, and that's what matters. She thinks about Henry's letter—the letter he didn't know that she'd read—and her heart aches thinking of her sweet little boy feeling hurt and forgotten on Christmas as the family who was supposed to love him celebrated. She pictures him standing there, alone in the crowded room, watching a family that was supposed to be his decorating the tree, leaving him out and barely noticing that he was there—and she hugs him a little tighter, wishing that her love could somehow take away the pain those memories hold for him.

Finally, she kisses the top of his head and carefully gets out of bed, adjusting the blankets up around his shoulders as she leans forward and presses another kiss to his forehead, telling him that she loves him. Retreating down the hallway to her own room, she quickly changes into pajamas and gets into bed. Reaching over, she pulls out Henry's letter from the drawer on her bedside table, scanning it quickly and sighing, hoping that just this once Christmas morning wouldn't bring him disappointment.

"Mom?" Looking up, she tucks the letter back into the drawer, smiling quizzically as Henry fidgets in the door way with The Chamber of Secrets tucked beneath his arm. "Are you going to bed now?"

"I was going to," she says, pulling back the covers and patting the empty space beside her. "But I don't have to just yet." Henry nods as he comes into the room, padding across the carpet to her bed. He climbs into bed with her and cuddles into her side, and she can't help but smile as her arm folds around him. "You were sound asleep when I left you. Did you have a nightmare?"

"No…"

"Oh, then, what's going on?"

"I just…" He sighs. "I've got a lot on my mind."

"I see," she murmurs softly. "Anything you want to talk about?"

"Not really."

"Okay," she says. "You can always change your mind about that, you know?"

"I know…" He blinks up at her. "But right now, I just really want to read what happens next. They're about to find Tom Riddle's diary and that's a really good part." Dipping her head down she presses a kiss to the top of Henry's head as he cuddles closer and she opens the bookmarked page. Glancing down at him, she can't help but smile at the way he lifts his chin to see the page as if he hasn't already read this book before, as if it's all new and exciting and full of wonder. Then, she clears her throat and begins to read—but almost as soon as she starts to say the first word, Henry's voice cuts in. "I ran away more than once."

She blinks as she looks from the book to Henry, her brow creasing as the book fall from her fingertips and into her lap.
"Henry, what are you… talking about?"

"Last year, right about this time, I ran away," he admits quietly "I thought that if I went away, they'd miss me."

"Oh," she breathes out, hugging him a little tighter. "Oh, Henry…"

"I got the idea from Home Alone," he tells her. "Kevin gets left behind and when his family comes back, they're so glad to see him that they don't care that he totally destroyed their house." He shrugs his shoulder as his eyes shift down, as guilt stabs at her heart. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"And is it safe to assume things didn't work out as you'd hoped?"

Henry nods. "Well, that time, I wanted to be found, so I went to a store and I stayed there until it closed."

"What happened then?" She asks, pushing out her voice as she swallows the hard lump that's formed in the back of her throat. "Did someone find you?"

"The lady who runs the store did and she called the police and…" Henry sighs as he looks up at her, blinking back his tears. "They called my foster family and they didn't come to get me, so I had to go to this house with all these other kids living there…"

"A group home," she murmurs as her hand rubs over his back.

"All of the kids who were there had done something bad, so they weren't allowed to go home." She watches as Henry's lip catches between his teeth. "My social worker told the man who ran the house that I was on a slippery slope. He said that I'd probably be back because that's how kids like me turned out."

"Henry, no…"

"I wasn't supposed to hear that," he tells her in a barely audible voice. "I was eavesdropping, but… but sometimes… I think about that… about what he meant when he said 'kids like me.'" For a moment, his voice fades away; but before she can say anything, before she can assure him that he was never the problem, that life had been unfair to him, he looks up at her with teary eyes. "Do you think that some people are just… born bad?"

"You are not bad," she says in soft yet firm voice, remembering the way his foster parents had used his failed adoption—her mistake—against him. "Do you understand that?"

Henry shrugs his shoulders. "I don't… feel like I'm bad," he tells her as brow furrows and he chews at his lip. "But…"

His voice trails off as Regina smoothes his hair and cups his head to her chest, holding him tightly against her. Her heart aches and her stomach churns as she thinks about where he was only a year before—desperate and lonely in a place he didn't belong—and while she's glad that his circumstances have changed, she knows the damage years of starving for affection can cause. "Evil isn't born, Henry. It's made," she tells him in a soft voice as her lungs deflate—and she questions whether or not evil can ever truly be unmade. "And it can only be made if you let it."

"I'm just… really glad that I'm here now."

"I'm glad you're here, too, Henry."

"I wouldn't run away now…"

"Well, that's a relief," she breathes out, pressing another kiss to the top of his head. "Because I don't know what I'd do without you."

She watches as a small smile pulls onto his lips. "I ran away because I wanted a family," he says almost matter-of-factly, as if he doesn't realize just how heartbreaking that statement actually is. "But now, I have one—and I have a pretty great one."

"You and I do have a pretty good thing going, don't we?"

"I think so," he tells her as he nuzzles against her. "Can… can I sleep here tonight?"

"With me?"

"Yeah…" He chews at his lip as his eyes cast upward. "If… that's okay. I don't have to."

"Well what if I want you to?" She asks, squeezing him a little tighter into her side as she reminds herself that while there is nothing she can do about the past, there is something she can do about the future. So taking a short breath, she picks up the book lying in her lap and opens it to the dog eared page. "Now, where were we…"

It's mid-afternoon on Christmas Eve when Regina and Henry pull into Robin's driveway, and before she's even able to put the Henry is opening the door. A smile stretches onto her lips as Henry runs to Robin, who steps out onto the porch and lifts him off the ground, tossing him up in the air before hugging him close and setting him down inside—and then he jogs toward her.

He's wearing a dark green thermal with little white snowflakes on it, a pair of jeans, and on his feet are a pair of moccasin slippers. He's smiling brightly and she can see his blue eyes sparkling as nears, reaching out and taking the bag she's holding. Robin presses a kiss to her cheek and she feels her stomach flutter a bit, unsure that anyone's ever greeted her this way—looking so genuinely glad to see her.

"What's in the bag?" He asks as he pulls away.

"Oh, well, presents, but I needed to get them into your house unnoticed, so there's also a Lego set Henry thought he and Roland could work on and a couple of board games and…" She peers down into the bag and her brow creases. "And a Captain America fleece blanket, for a reason I can't explain."

Robin chuckles as he slides an arm around her, guiding her up the approach and into the house. Roland runs toward her, slamming into her legs a she wraps his arms around her. "Merry Christmas, Regina," he says, pulling back and grinning broadly. "Look! I lost a tooth."

"You did!" She exclaims, dropping down to his level and reaching out and turning his chin. "Look at that."

"Daddy said the tooth fairy might be delayed a day or so because of Christmas."

"Is that so?" She asks, smirking as she looks at Robin, who only shrugs. "Did it hurt?"

"Nope!" Roland tells her, shaking his head. "I was wigging it with my tongue and it just popped out!"

"Cool," Henry murmurs, leaning in and looking at the gap in Roland teeth. "Did you save the tooth?" Roland nods and a moment later the boys are running in the direction of Roland's bedroom.

"So, the tooth fairy is on delay?" She asks, standing up and turning to Robin as a smirk stretches her lips.

As she stands, she pulls off her scarf and unbuttons her coat, and when she starts to shrug it off, Robin pulls it from her shoulders. "I can only handle one mythical being in one day," he explains as he hangs the coat on the hook by the door and when he turns back to her, he chuckles softly as he looks her up and down. "I don't think I've ever seen you in jeans."

Tipping her head to the side, her eyes narrow. "I'm not wearing jeans."

"I know," he says with a wink and a grin. "Do you even own a pair of… casual pants?"

"No. I've really had a need for them," she murmurs, shifting as she looks down at her red cashmere sweater and trouser pants. "But this is… comfortable."

"I'll take your word for it," he says, leaning in and kissing her cheek. "Now, we have a couple of very important things to discuss before the boys return."

"Oh?" She asks as her eyebrow arches. "Do we?"

"We do," he tells her, nodding as he grabs her hand, leading her from the living to the kitchen. There's an open menu, a pen and notepad next to it, and she can see Robin has already began a list—and a smile tugs onto her lips at the realization that he's including her in a favorite family tradition. "I've already selected a few things—like we always get egg rolls, egg drop soup and fried rice, then everyone gets to pick a main dish to share." He pauses for a moment and she looks back at him, watching as his smile deepens. "I've already selected the Mongolian beef and vegetables and Roland's requested the sweet and sour chicken."

"That's… a lot of food."

"It is," he nods with an excitement that's nearly palpable. "So, you need to choose two dishes for you and Henry. Then we can order."

"What you have listed already is more than enough to…"

Her voice trails off as his eyes narrow skeptically. "That's that point—we order enough food to feed a small village and stuff ourselves silly until we—and by 'we' I especially mean an overly-excited six-year old—fall into a food come, and actually go to bed at a reasonable hour so that Santa can get in and out, unnoticed."

"Ah," she murmurs, chuckling softly as she looks back to the menu. "In that case, Henry likes Almond Chicken and… I think I'll go with the Ma Po Tofu." She grins back at Robin, who scribbles the order onto his note pad. "We could use something that's not completely unhealthy… or something we can pretend isn't."

"If you can manage to get Roland to try tofu…"

"This sounds like a bet," she laughs as she turns, leaning against the edge of the counter as her eyebrow arches. "And we both know I love a challenge."

"Well then, let's make it one," Robin laughs, glancing up from the notepad, "If you can get my child to eat tofu, willingly… then I'll…" His voice fades as he considers. "I'll… owe you something."

"I can work with that."

"What will I owe you?"

"How about we leave that part to be determined? It'll make it all the more interesting."

"And if you fail…"

"Oh, but I won't," she says in a confident voice. "So we don't have to worry about that."

Robin rolls his eyes as he laughs. He reaches for the phone and just as he's lifting it to his ear, Regina reaches out and touches her fingers to the back of her hand. "I… wouldn't say no to some crab Rangoon."

"Neither would I," he chuckles as he leans in and pecks her lips—then hastily pulls back to place the order and she turns away from him, reaching into the cupboard to retrieve the paper plates and some napkins, before going into the living room to set up for their lazy day in.

An hour later, they're all sprawled out in the living room as Back to the Future plays. There are plates of food in front of them all, a box of brightly colored Lego pieces between the boys just waiting to be played with, and blankets covering their laps—and when Robin's arm stretches around her shoulders, she feels herself flooding with warmth. He drops a soft kiss against her jaw and she nuzzles against him.

"You'll notice," he whispers. "Roland has not touched the tofu."

"Give it time."

"You're wrong about this one…"

"I am not," she whispers back, nudging his side. "It's just going to take a little time. I can't just shove it into his mouth and force him to chew." She grins. "You said he had to eat it willingly."

"Well, you could try that, but… he may bite."

She laughs as her eyes roll. "It's just like the split pea soup…"

"You cheated with that," he insists. "You covered that entire bowl with cheese."

"He ate it, didn't he?"

Robin sighs. "Yes."

"And in my defense, it was split pea with ham and cheese. That's what the recipe called for."

"The recipe called for an entire bag of cheese on one bowl?"

"It was only half of the bag," she whispers back. "Now, shut up. We're missing the movie." She cuddles closer, resting her head on his chest, smiling as his hands rub slowly over her back and arm as she watches the boys stare wide-eyed at the TV screen as they nurse bowls of egg drop soup.

When the first movie ends, the second begins and in the handful of minutes that previews of other movies play, they take the opportunity to refill their plates. Henry goes first, taking a little spoonful of each entree before grabbing an egg roll and biting into it as he goes back to the living room and pushes aside the little Lego Merry-Go-Round he and Roland had been working on. She glances at Robin as Roland watches Henry and a grin tugs onto his lips as he leans onto the tips of his toes to look at the selections of entrees.

"Let me help you," Regina says as he lifts Roland onto the counter, her grin warming as the little boy giggles. "You like the chicken, right?"

"Both kinds," Roland tells her in a serious voice. "And the rice."

From the corner of her eye, she watches as Roland watches her spoon some of the sweet and sour chicken onto his plate, followed by a spoonful of the almond chicken. "Do you like spicy things?"

Roland giggles again as he nods. "They make my nose runny and my cheeks warm."

"So, do you want to try some of this?" She asks, dropping some rice into his plate and pointing the spoon at the Ma Po Tofu. "It's kind of spicy."

"What is it?"

"Tofu," she tells him in an even voice.

"I've never had tofu," Roland tells her, looking from the Ma Po Tofu back to her. "I don't think I'll like that." Robin scoffs behind her and she reaches for a fork, as Roland looks behind himself to where Henry is sitting on the carpet, still pushing Lego pieces out of the way. "Does Henry like it?"

"He does," Regina nods. "Do you want to try it?" She asks, stabbing her fork into a cube of tofu and gathering some sauce onto it. "Just a piece?" Roland hesitates and she can practically feel Robin's skeptical gaze. "Just one, teeny, tiny little bite?" Roland chews at his lip as he stares at the cube of tofu. "You don't have to have any more if you don't like it. And this is a small piece," she reminds him.

"What does it taste like?"

"Well," Regina begins. "It's chewy, kind of spongy…"

"Like candy?" Roland asks, his eyes lighting up. "That's the reason I like gummy bears!"

"Kind of…"

"I don't believe this," Robin mutters under his breath from the other end of the kitchen—and she feels a slight thrill run through her.

"It tastes like whatever it's cooked with," she explains, as Roland continues to consider, slowly reaching out and taking the fork from her. "If you don't like it, you can spit it out."

"What does the sauce taste like?"

Grinning, Regina dips her finger into the plastic container. "You tell me," she murmurs as Roland's eyes fall to the tip of her index finger—and hesitantly, he reaches out and swipes his own finger against hers. She watches as he licks his finger and then his eyes widen. "You like it," she says, very matter-of-factly, stifling her urge to laugh as Robin scoffs again.

"Yeah!" He offers a nod as he takes the fork, biting into the tofu. His brow furrows as he chews. "It's… not like gummy bears," he tells her, blinking as he continues to chew. "But… it's not bad either."

"No?"

"No," he confirms.

"Do you want a little bit on your plate?" Roland hesitates for a moment, licking his lips as he slowly nods. "How about we start with just a couple of pieces?"

"And a lot of sauce."

"And a lot of sauce," she agrees, drizzling the sauce over two pieces of tofu. She glances back at him and sets down the plate as he grins up at her and his feet begin to tap impatiently against the cupboard—and instinctively, she presses a quick kiss to his forehead as she lifts him off of the counter, setting him back onto the floor, then hands him his plate.

"I don't believe this," Robin murmurs as he watches Roland join Henry in the living room. "Where were you he was three and refusing to eat anything that didn't contain something sweet?" He leans in and presses a quick kiss to her lips. "And that was… absolutely adorable."

"What was?"

"You and Roland."

"Oh," she murmurs as her cheeks flush. "Well…"

"He adores you, you know that, right?" Her breath catches in her chest as Robin's hand slides over her hip, drawing her toward him. "We both do."

"He's easy to love," Regina murmurs as she feels her cheeks flushing, not used to this sort of affection. "You're not so bad either."

"If I haven't said it yet, we're both really glad that you and Henry could be here today," Robin tells her—and though it's not the first time he's said it, she smiles nonetheless as her heart flutters a little bit. "Even though we haven't been together for very long, Christmas Eve wouldn't have felt like Christmas Eve without the two of you here."

She nods, looking over her shoulder at the boys who are giggling about something as they munch on their egg rolls. "I don't think there's anywhere else we'd rather be today." Her cheeks flush a little as he presses a kiss to her cheek and his fingers fold down around hers and he tugs her gently toward the food. Eagerly, they load their plates once again before joining the boys in the living room just as the second Back to the Future movie begins to play.

Between the second and third movies, they take a break to play a couple of board games. Henry cuddles against her as they play Candy Land and Roland's eyes widen with excitement as he announces that Professor Plum committed the murder with the revolver in the kitchen to win the game of Clue. They all laugh at Robin's inability to remove organs from the body in a game of Operation and by the time they put the third Back to the Future movie into the DVD player, its dark outside.

Her heart swells as both boys crawl up onto the couch with them—and she's more than content to comb her fingers though Henry's hair as Robin's foot stokes lazily over her ankle as he cuddles Roland on his lap. When the credits roll, its nearly nine and both boys are nearly asleep. She offers Robin a regretful smile as she tells him that she and Henry should probably be going and Roland's bottom lip pouts out as he looks between them.

Henry gathers up his two games, slowly putting the pieces back into their spots as Roland returns the Legos to the compartmentalized box that Henry keeps surprisingly tidy. Robin takes her hand, tugging her toward the kitchen and she sighs as they start to put away the leftover Chinese food.

"Do you want to take any of this home?" Robin asks as he presses the lid onto the Mongolian beef. "As you pointed out there's more than enough…"

"No. I think we're good," she tells him. "Tomorrow morning, I'm waking Henry up with a Christmas breakfast and then we'll put a turkey in the oven and make Christmas cookies and I am positive there won't be room in my refrigerator for any of this."

He laughs a little. "So everything's set for tomorrow?"

"Yeah," she nods. "I just need to set it all up and get it all together after he goes to bed."

"Let me know if you need anything at the last minute."

"I don't think I will, but… I'll let you know." She grins, leaning onto the tips of her toes to press a kiss against his stubbly cheek. "Thank you for inviting us today."

"Thank you for coming," he murmurs as his arms fold around her. "Are you sure you can't stay just a little longer?"

"I want to, but…"

"I know," he sighs as they move toward the door, and both of them notice the snow brushed against the windowsill. "It looks like we got a little snow. I'll clean off your car."

"Oh you don't have to…"

"Regina," he blinks. "You don't have boots and those socks are pretty much useless. I'm not going to sit inside my nice warm house and watch you freeze cleaning off your car." Leaning in, he kisses her cheek. "I'll be right back."

"If you must," she grins as he reaches for his coat. "Oh, and I brought a second bag. The gifts are in there…"

He nods. "I'll add them to the mountain in the closet." She laughs as he pulls on his coat and opens the front door—and as soon as he does, her eyes widen. What they assumed was a dusting is well over a foot. She blinks a few times as she looks at Robin. "I… don't think you're going anywhere tonight."

"No," she murmurs, shivering as her eyes sink closed. "It doesn't appear that way."

"I'm sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?" She asks, opening her eyes as she turns to face him. "This… isn't your fault. Snow wasn't even in the forecast."

"I know, but I invited you here and now you're stuck…"

"Don't apologize for that. Henry and I had a good time."

"And that good time seems to have spoiled your plans for tomorrow." He shrugs and offers her a lopsided grin. "And I know better than anyone how much effort you put into those plans."

"It's okay," she tells him, sighing softly as she tries to decide if she's disappointed or relieved. "Henry will have a nice Christmas, regardless of whether or not he has the Christmas morning that I planned for him." She shrugs. "Quite frankly, anything is better than what he's used to."

"I know, but… he deserves a little Christmas magic."

She nods. "Well, we'll see what we can salvage." A smile pulls onto her lips. "Beside, today felt pretty magical."

"It did, didn't it?"

She laughs a little as she watches Henry push his finger against the little Lego carousel as Roland giggles. "So," she begins, stepping into the living room. "There's been a slight change of plans."

Henry and Roland look up at her as Robin steps up beside her. "It looks like everyone is staying put," Robin tells them, watching as the boys exchange grins. "You two should go check out why," he says, nodding toward the window.

She laughs as the boys rush forward, soft murmurings of awe escaping them as they crane their necks to see the fresh blanket of snow—and a smile tugs onto her lips and once again, her heart warms. She watches as Robin joins them, lifting Roland onto his lap, as his hand slides against Henry's back. He leans in and whispers something to them—and before she even has time to wonder, the boys are cheering as they pull on coats and boots and gloves.

Standing in the window, she watches as Robin and the boys run though the snow. Henry and Roland skip and twirl through it, catching snowflakes on their tongues and kicking the loose fluffy snow at each other as they play. Robin lifts them both up, dropping them into a snowy bank and they laugh out, red-cheeked and all smiles as they make snow angels. Regina hugs her arms around herself, shivering a little as she smiles—wondering if perhaps this isn't a better Christmas than the one she'd planned.

It's nearly ten-thirty when the boys climb into bed. Robin pulls out the trundle underneath Roland's bed as Regina finds some extra blankets. Robin gives Henry a pair of pajamas—one of his old shirts and a pair of sweatpants that were given to Roland but are still too big for him—and within moments of laying down, both boys are asleep.

"You know," Robin begins. "I lost that tofu bet."

"Yes," Regina nods. "Yes, you did."

"But you never told me what it is that I owe you."

"Oh," she murmurs as a smile pulls onto her lips. "I think there's a little mistletoe in that bag I brought—compliments of Granny and Ruby—we could test that out."

"I think that sounds fair," he says, chuckling softly as he turns off the over head light, letting the tree light the room. "Perhaps in a little while we should do that."

"In a little while?"

"Yeah," he nods. "First, there's… something I want to give you."

"Ah…" A grin pulls onto her lips. "I have something for you, too." Giving his hand a quick squeeze, she goes to the door and rummaging through her bag, finally pulling out a metallic green package with a red and gold bow on top of it, and when she turns, Robin is holding a similarly shaped package wrapped in blue and silver. "It looks like we had similar ideas," she tells him as she steps toward him.

"It does," he nods.

"I want to go first," she tells him, handing him the gift as they sit together on the couch, their knees just barely touching. She watches as he tugs at the ribbon, and her stomach flutters nervously. "I… didn't quite know what to get you," she confesses. "I've never actually bought a Christmas present for anyone."

"I am honored to be your first gift-recipient," he says grinning up at her as he rips the paper—and his breath catches in the back of his throat as he catches his first glimpse of The Legend of Robin Hood. Blinking up at her, he pulls away the rest of the wrapping paper, then looks back to the book. The cover is crimson leather with gold leaf lettering on the front and on the spine, and the edges of the pages are also trimmed in gold.

"I never quite understood why I enjoyed that book so much," she murmurs, chewing at her lip as Robin opens the cover, his fingers brushing over one of the water colored illustrations of Robin Hood—of himself—standing in the woods, drawing an arrow from his quiver as a Royal carriage passes. "There's, um, more at the end of the book."

He looks up at her, immediately turning the book over, and opening the back flap to find a little book made from white cardstock—something she'd asked Henry to make. Henry had happily obliged, not questioning why. There were a few stories about their Tuesday night dinners and one about a day trip to the park, and another about an adventure Henry and Roland had in Robin's store. The final story was about Roland's birthday and each story was accompanied by a hand-drawn picture

"Regina, this is…"

"You like it?"

"I… can't even tell you how much," he nods. "I love this."

"I… don't know how accurate it is." She takes a breath. "Authors have… taken some liberties with our stories."

He smiles, looking back at the book. "It's strange," he begins, "Thinking of myself as some sort of legendary hero because that's not at all how I view myself." She nods, taking a breath as she thinks that it's less strange to think of herself as the Evil Queen and the villain of most stories. "What's this?" He asks, noticing a ribbon in one of the pages.

"Um, one story that I… I really enjoy."

"Oh?" She nods and holds her breath as Robin turns to the page and his eyes fall to the illustration of Robin Hood marrying a raven-haired Queen. "Regina…"

"I know that's not a real story and that never happened, but…" She shrugs, thinking of the night she'd gone to his tavern, thinking of how fear had over taken her and she'd run away. "Maybe in another life or in another story, we were meant to be together…"

"Maybe in this story," he tells her in a sincere voice as he smiles warmly.

"Yeah," she nods, a small smile pulling onto her lips. "Maybe."

He takes one last glance at book. "I… don't think I can top this."

"Try," she murmurs, grinning as he extends a gift to her, laughing a little awkwardly as she starts to tear away the paper, revealing a brown leather-bound book with a feather embossed on the front.

Her eyes shift to his as she pulls away the rest of the gift wrap. "It's a blank journal," he tells her, taking a small breath. "I saw the cover and, thought of you." She nods, opening it and looking down at the blank pages. "I know you think of yourself as this terrible villain who doesn't deserve the happiness she's found, but…" His voice trails off as she takes a breath, feeling a lump forming at the back of her throat. "Undoubtedly, the coming year is going to be rough on you, but you deserve to tell your side of the story, to write a new story for yourself where you get to be the hero."

"I'm hardly a hero."

"I beg to differ," he murmurs gently, as his hand slides over her knee. "And I think your son would, too." She looks up at him, swallowing hard as her jaw tightens. "Your story isn't complete and there's more good in you than you believe."

She takes a breath and her voice fails her. She wants to tell him that he doesn't know her well enough to make that judgment or that he's looking at her life through rose colored glasses or that the person she's let him see isn't who she truly is—but she can't bring herself to say any of that because she's not sure that it's true. "Thank you for… saying that," she says instead. "For believing that."

He gives her knee a little squeeze. "I, um, have something else for you," he says, reaching into his pocket. "An eleven dollar journal couldn't be the only thing I gave you, so…" She watches as he pulls out a flat rectangular box. "So, I spent a little time in the Cliché Gifts Men Buy their Girlfriends for Christmas section of the department store and…"

"You got me jewelry," she cuts in as grin forms on her lips and lump at the back of her throat shrinks. "Aw."

"I did get you jewelry," he confesses, watching as she slips her fingers beneath the seam of the blue and silver wrapping. "The boys helped me pick it out." Her eyes widen a little as she rips off the paper and opens the box, revealing a gold charm bracelet. She blinks up at him as a smile pulls onto her lips and then she looks back at the charms. "I… realize that you don't wear bracelets, but…"

"There's an apple charm," she murmurs, as her fingers touch the tiny golden apple.

"Yes," he tells her as she lifts the bracelet from the box. "The apple because you're…"

"A little obsessed with them?" She asks, arching an eyebrow. "You wouldn't be the first to tell me that." She looks back to the bracelet, counting six charms on the gold links. The apple, a crown, a tree of life, and two different heart charms—one is a small heart nested inside of a larger one, which he explains represents her and Henry, and the second is a solid heart with an arrow going through it to represent the two of them. The final charm is a little watch face and when her fingers touch to it, she looks up at him.

"To make it a bit more practical," he explains as a smile tugs onto his lips. "And as a reminder that everything happens when it's supposed to happen, when the timing is right."

Her breath catches as she feels a rush of emption. Reaching out, she slides her hand up over his jaw, rubbing her fingers over his cheek as she offers him a teary and thankful smile. She leans in and he meets her the rest of the way. Her tongue parts his lips as she kisses him, and he kisses her back, sliding his tongue against hers. It starts off slow and sweet, but it's not long before urgency takes over and their breath begins to grow ragged. He pulls his lips away from hers and before she can even feel a flicker of disappointment, his lips are sucking at the crook of her neck.

His breath is warm and his touch is soft and she offers him a contented sigh as her head falls back and her eyes close.

"We forgot the mistletoe," he murmurs, earning a giggle in reply.

"It's here in spirit…"

Pulling back, a coy little smile stretches across his lips. "You know, the boys are sound asleep…"

She nods, "You're right. They are."

"Which leaves us all alone to entertain ourselves…"

"Right again…"

"Do you want to… continue this in the bedroom?"

"The bedroom…"

"Only if you want to," he's quick to say. "We could always stay out here and… have the sort of fun that wouldn't be… absolutely mortifying if the boys were to come out here and stumble upon us." He grins. "Only slightly mortifying."

She nods as she eases herself away from him, standing up and holding out her hand. "I think I'd prefer the sort of fun that should happen behind closed doors."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she nods, wiggling her fingers a bit impatiently and smiling as he takes her hand.

They walk toward the back bedroom and her stomach flutters as he closes the door, smiling as he reaches for her. He pulls her up against him, kissing her deeply as her fingers tug at his shirt. Stepping back, he pulls it off and undoes the button of his pants, grinning broadly as she watches him. She takes a breath as she pulls her sweater off and she can't help but smile when his lips part and his eyes linger on her black lace bra.

"I am suddenly very aware that, contrary to what I once though, I haven't done this in almost thirty years," he says a bit sheepishly. "And suddenly, I am very nervous."

"Don't be," she insists, reaching for his hand and tugging him over to the bed. "If it makes you feel any better, you're… already doing a lot better than anyone I've been with." He smiles almost sadly as he squeezes her hand—he lets out a shaky breath as he watches her step out of her slacks.

She takes a few steps in, feeling her heart beating faster and faster as she slides her hands around his hips and pushing at the denim that surrounds them. He swallows hard as her hands tug down his jeans and momentarily, he's immobilized by her touch as the pants fall around his ankles and her hands slide against the thin layer of cotton that separates his skin from hers.

Then, a moment later he steps out of them as she leads him to the edge of the bed. She sits down and lays back, her heart pounding as he places a knee onto the bed, leaning to kiss her again.

Robin drops a kiss onto her bare shoulder and a smile pulls onto her lips. She glances up at him, her cheeks flushing a little as his and slides over her bare stomach as it rumbles.

"We should do this again," he teases tongue flicks against her earlobe. "And again… and again…"

"Don't get too far ahead of yourself," she sighs, enjoying the tingling sensation his lips create on her skin. "I still haven't completely… come down from my last high." Her stomach rumbles again, but she ignores it as her hand reaches up and her fingers push into his hair. "And this is also nice."

"You're hungry," he murmurs as his lips slide to her jaw. "Do you want to…"

"I don't want to move an inch right now."

He laughs against her skin as his lips brush against her clavicle. "It's Christmas morning," he tells her.

"Is it?" She asks, picking up her head and looking toward the clock on his nightstand. "I suppose that means it's time for Santa's delivery."

"I'm afraid so," he murmurs, sitting up beside her. "Though, I would love to resume this once all of the presents are underneath the tree."

She laughs softly, leaning to peck his lips. "Well, if we have to get up, I definitely think some Ma Po Tofu is in my immediate future."

She grins as he gets out of bed—smiling appreciatively at the view as she tosses her legs over the side of the bed and reaches for the green thermal he'd been wearing earlier. She pulls it on as he tugs on a pair of pajama bottoms, and she combs her fingers through her hair as he turns with a t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts in hand—and she grins as his lips part and his jaw drops open.

"Is… that my shirt?"

"Casual enough for you?" She asks, watching as his eyes trail down to where the shirt sits mid-way up her thigh and she laughs as he drops the t-shirt and shorts back into the drawer and reaches for her.

"You look cute in snowflakes," he tells her, pressing a too-quick kiss to her lips as his fingers fold around her hand.

They pad down the hallway and into the kitchen, filling a plate with leftovers for them to share. She puts away the containers as he pops the plate into the microwave, and she gasps in surprise as his hands find her waist and lift her onto the counter. Laughing out, she leans in, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kisses him and his hand slide up the sides of her thighs and beneath the hem of his shirt.

The microwave sounds and he pulls back reluctantly, sighing as he turns away from her to retrieve their plate. She smiles, turning her head to watch them—and then her heart warms as she notices Roland and Henry asleep underneath the tree.

"Robin," she murmurs as her hand falls onto his arm. "Look…"

His gaze follows hers and he takes a step forward as she slides off the counter. His arm forms around her waist and for a moment, they just stand there, watching. Four little feet stick out from underneath the tree and the colorful lights reflect on the boys' faces. Their eyes are closed and their hands are folded behind their heads, both of them looking so innocent and serene.

"Roland loves to lay under the tree and look at the lights…"

"That's so cute…"

"It really is," he agrees with a nod. "He must have wanted to show Henry." Her smile deepens as Robin presses a quick kiss to her hair. "Roland idolizes him, you know."

"I've noticed," she admits quietly, unable to pull her eyes away from them. "And Henry really loves him."

"Almost like a brother."

"Almost," she nods.

Robin sighs as he pulls away from her, carefully walking toward the boys. He slides a hand under Henry, lifting him slowly and holding him against his shoulder, then scooping up Roland and settling him on the other side. Regina follows as Robin walks toward Roland's bedroom and she hovers in the doorway as he gently sets them down. Roland goes first, and then Henry and he draws the blankets up around both boys, bending as he presses a soft kiss to each of their foreheads—and she takes a breath as tears well up in her eyes.

Robin smiles as he turns back to her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. He turns off the light and closes the door behind him, and together they walk back to the kitchen. They both pick at the Ma Po Tufu and fried rice, chatting about nothing as they eat. Regina places the plate in the sink before following Robin back into the bedroom where he pulls out two large, overflowing bags full of gifts—and she teases him about having teased her about the number of presents she bought that season. Together they arrange them underneath the tree, tucking the bags into the closet, before settling in an arm chair together. She's sitting on his lap with her legs over the arm of the chair and his arms folded loosely around her—and there's such a quiet contentment about the moment.

She glances from the tree to the mantle, noticing a framed photograph of Robin and a pregnant Marian—and she feels a rush of emotion that she can't quite describe. It takes only a moment for Robin to notice her gaze and when does, he hugs her a little tighter.

"She was beautiful," Regina murmurs, looking back at him.

"She was," he agrees. "It's funny—I never realized how lucky I was to have that picture."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, she died before the curse, so if it weren't for the curse, I'd never again be able to see her smile and Roland would have never known that he has her mother's eyes."

Regina swallows and nods, again focusing on the picture and the people in it. The memory captured in that picture never really happened and she wonders how that works and how he feels about it, and she makes mental note to ask him about it another time. She stares at Marian's smile for a moment, suddenly so curious about the woman Robin had a loved so dearly—and then she wonders if the painful memories of her death were the fabrication of the curse she created. "Robin," she murmurs after a few minutes. "Can I… ask you something?"

"Of course," he replies, pressing a kiss to her hair. "Ask away."

"How did Marian die?"

"I told you," he murmurs in a soft voice. "She died during child birth."

Closing her eyes, she hesitates for a moment, then turns her head to face him. "I know, but what I meant is… is that how she really died? Or… is that what the curse let you believe?"

"Oh…"

"Robin, did… I…"

"No," he cuts in quickly, offering her a reassuring little smile. "Late in her pregnancy, Marian got sick. I tried to save her—I tried in vain to save her—but I couldn't. I even broke into the Dark One's castle to steal this wand that could supposedly cure her and the baby, but," he shakes his head, "It only worked on one of them."

"I'm sorry," she breathes out—feeling guilty for the relief she feels that Marian didn't die at her hand. "I'm so sorry, Robin."

"It's okay," he whispers quietly. "It took a long, long time, but I've finally made peace with what happened and I can, at the very least, smile at the happy memories that I have with her."

She nods and cuddles closer, still unable to describe what it is she's feeling. After that, neither of them says much and they spend most of their time in silence, just staring at the tree—and she's barely aware that her eyes keep closing for longer and longer periods of time, and she's even less aware of Robin's arm sliding underneath her knees as he lifts her and carries her back into the bedroom.

Robin and Regina hastily tie on robes as they hear the boys out in the living room, Roland excitedly declaring that Santa's come as Henry giggles. Regina pulls Henry back into her legs, laughing softly as Roland bounces toward the tree and Robin stoops down beside him and hands his son a box, then picks up a second box.

"Henry," he says, looking up with a grin. "This one's for you."

"For me?" Robin nods and Henry looks back at Regina, who smiles encouragingly as she gently pushes him forward. "Really?"

"Really," Robin nods. "Santa must have known that you guys were snowed in here," he adds with a wink. "I'm willing to bet there's a few more presents for you underneath the tree."

Her heart flutters as she watches Henry take the present. His small fingers rub against the shiny paper and she watches him smile as he slowly tugs at the ribbon around it. Robin stands up and his arm slides around her and his smile widens as he watches Henry rips away the paper.

"Oh my gosh!" Henry exclaims, looking up at them with wide eyes. "A light saber!"

"Mine too!" Roland adds, ripping away the wrapping paper from his box. "So cool!"

"Thank you," Regina murmurs, glancing at Robin. "I'm really glad that he has something to open… and… you didn't have to…"

"Of course I did," Robin cuts in. "There's no way I wasn't getting him a few things, regardless of where he spent Christmas morning. Besides, how could I get just one light saber?" She rolls her eyes and laughs, shaking her head as Roland grabs for another gift—and Henry stares down at the light saber, blinking back tears. Roland hands him another box, excitedly telling him that his name was on that one too. "And I know that you got Roland a couple of gifts…"

"Yeah…" She smiles, nodding toward a box wrapped in shimmery Batman paper. "The Harry Potter books in a box set," she whispers. "And a wand… and a stuffed owl… and a cape…" She laughs, having proved his point. "And… Lego set."

"See?"

She laughs again and nods, watching as Henry opens his second gift—which turns out to be a plastic bow and arrow set that he deems to be just like Hawkeye's. Her eyebrow arches as he looks to Robin, who only kisses her again, before joining the boys in the floor in a mess of wrapping paper.

The four of them enjoy a lazy morning. The boys play with new toys—their eyes lighting up just as brightly as their light sabers do—and by eight o'clock, Roland is asleep in a pile of wrapping paper, holding onto his stuffed Hedwig as Henry lays against her on the couch. Robin is in the kitchen making breakfast for them all, and she can't help but feel relaxed.

"This wasn't exactly how I planned your first Christmas in Storybrooke," she says as she hugs Henry a little closer.

"That's okay," he replies, turning his head and grinning up at her. "This was pretty great."

"It was, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Henry says with a nod and a content sigh. "I'm glad we got to spend at least part of Christmas with Robin and Roland. They're kind of like our family."

"I'm glad we got to spend it with them, too," she tells him, being to press a kiss to his hair. "And when we get home, we can do our own thing. Though… I'm going to need a few minutes to set everything up."

"If it involves more presents, I am very okay with that." She laughs and nods, watching as Robin moves around the kitchen and the smell of cinnamon wafts through the air. "I've already gotten more than what I wanted."

"Really?" She asks, peering down at him.

"Yeah," he murmurs quietly. "I… didn't tell you this, but… all I really wanted is a Christmas like the ones I've seen on TV." He looks back at her and grins. "You know, the scene where the kids wake up before the parents and there are tons of gifts underneath the tree and everyone is smiling and happy and… a real family."

"Yeah…"

"That's kind of how this last night and this morning felt." Henry giggles, "Roland's even sleeping on top of all the unwrapped presents, just like the littler sibling does in all the Christmas movies."

"Yeah," she agrees. "It was kind of like that."

"It was really nice," he confesses, pressing closer to her. "It was perfect, actually."

Her heart flutters as she looks up at Robin and she grins teary eyed in his direction—and she thinks of the letter that Henry doesn't know she read. She feels a rush of emotion and she takes a long, deep breath as she tries to keep even her happy tears at bay.

Regina's pulled out of her thoughts by Robin's voice as he announces that the cinnamon roll waffles are done. He wakes up Roland as she and Henry move toward the kitchen table and the boys fall into an easy conversation of what they'll play with first—an item that is ever-changing—and what they can't wait to use and when they'll use it. They rehash the gifts they can't believe they actually got or that it snowed or how much fun they all had together between large bites of waffles—and all the while she stays quiet, not quite knowing how to thank Robin for helping her to give her son a gift that she couldn't possibly have given him alone.

After breakfast, she and Henry get dressed and Robin helps her to pack up Henry's gifts. He clears the snow off of her car and in the process offers to drive them home again and again, noting that his truck would be safer given the road conditions, but she declines, making a quip about Storybrooke's Road Commission having hell to pay if the roads aren't already cleared, but promising to let him know that they've arrived home safely. He laughs as she leans, and kisses his cheek, thanking him for everything—and after everyone has said their goodbyes, she and Henry drive home.

Storybrooke looks like something you'd see on a Christmas card, and she can't help but smile at the way Henry looks out the window as they drive down Main Street, looking at the short strip of town as though it's the first time that he's seeing it.

When they get home, he takes the bag from her, hauling it onto the porch as she fumbles with the lock and before she pushes the door open, she turns to him.

"Alright, so I didn't set anything up before we left yesterday, so it's going to take me a few minutes to bring down all the presents." Henry nods easily and she pushes open the door. "So, while I do that, why don't you take those presents upstairs and… brush your teeth and clean up a bit."

"Okay," he agrees stepping into the house and dropping down the bag. "I have to go up to my room and get your present anyway."

"You got me a present?" She asks, genuinely surprised as he pulls off his coat. "That was sweet of you."

"Of course, I got you something," Henry tells her, kicking off his boots and grabbing the bag as he jogs up down the stairs and out of the foyer. "I wanted to…" She looks up as she hangs up her coat and his voice halts. "Whoa!"

Regina's brow creases as she meets Henry in front of the living room, and then her own eyes widen. "How in the world…" The tree is lit and the presents that she left in her closet are scattered underneath the tree. The lights from the tree make the packages sparkle, and she watches in awe as Henry runs forward—and she doesn't understand how it's possible.

"I thought you said the presents were upstairs," he says, turning back to her with wide and wondering eyes. "How did you do this? The tree wasn't even on when we left!"

"I… I don't know," she murmurs in disbelief as she joins him.

"Wow…" Her heart flutters as Henry drops down in front of a mound of presents, slowly reaching out and selecting a box that's wrapped in brown craft paper. She grins as she notices that hand-drawn Christmas trees on it, and he turns to her. "Even my present for you is here!"

"That's… incredible," she murmurs, swallowing hard as she tries to understand.

"Open it!"

"Okay," she nods, taking a breath and telling herself that it doesn't matter how this has happened because the look on Henry's face is exactly what she'd hoped for. "You want me to open it now?"

"Yes!" She laughs as little as she sits on the arm of the couch, carefully unwrapping the present so that she doesn't rip the paper. Her breath catches when she pulls opens the cardboard box, showing a double-sided frame. "Open it!" Henry urges as her finger slips beneath the cardboard flap—and as soon as she sees the first picture, her eyes flood with tears.

"Oh Henry," she murmurs as she looks down at the two pictures side-by-side—her eyes shifting between a picture they took together they day that his adoption was finalized and the picture of her holding him as a baby that she'd kept tucked away in the shoebox at the back of her closest. She looks up at him, unable to find her words, and he's grinning, obviously proud of himself for giving her a present that obviously means so much to her. "This is wonderful," she says, dropping the frame into her lap as she pulls him into a tight hug.

"Mom," he murmurs after a few minutes. "You're squishing me."

"I don't care," she tells him, laughing softly as she hugs him even tighter.

"Mom…"

"Okay, fine," she breathes out, letting him go and immediately picking up the frame to look at it again.

"I just… thought that picture should be out." She nods and smiles as she bats away her falling tears. "I'm glad you like it."

"I love it," she says, once more reaching for him and pulling him back into a looser hug. "And I love you."

"I love you, too," he giggles.

Taking a long breath, she lets him go, hugging the frame to her chest as she leads him back to the tree, stooping down and handing him the first of several gifts. Henry smiles as he takes it—and then, from the corner of his eye, he sees the popsicle stick reindeer ornament with a red pom-pom nose and plastic wiggly eyes, with his name printed in gold letter. His breath catches and his eyes widen—and smile pulls onto her lips as he reaches for it and takes it off of the tree. His mouth drops open and tears fill his eyes as notices the little paper note she'd attached to one of the popsicle stick antlers–Merry Christmas, Henry. I'm sorry this is so late, but better late than never, right?, it reads. His hands shake as he looks from the note to her—and then, in the distance, they hear the clock tower on Main Street strike noon.

She holds her breath as her stomach tightens and her heart swells, and Henry looks to the window and then back to her, not realizing the significance of the clock and not realize it's moving because he believes. Taking a deep breath, he hangs the reindeer ornament back on the tree, and opens the first of many gifts and neither of them yet notice the storybook that's sitting on the coffee table.