A/n: Thanks to all who showed support for the first chapter, and to latinaangel38 for the review. I'm terribly sorry for the dreadfully long wait, so here's the overdue update. Please note that the story will mention and take elements from the novelization of season one, so when certain scenes don't transpire the same way they did on the show, that's the primary reason. And in case any of you are wondering, this fic will encompass the first three seasons and somewhat beyond. Now second verse, twice as long as the first. Enjoy!

The day marches on in a tortuously slow fashion, and soon a copious lack of stimulation has Harlow succumbing to boredom. After spending just over an hour taking messages and arranging appointments, lethargy slowly but surely made its way to her increasingly jittery body. Giving in to the tide that is listlessness, she peers at her watch for what seems like the hundredth time and barely smothers a groan. It wasn't even twelve yet. But the rest of the Hall is unbearably quiet and still—utterly devoid of activity and it's prized, corresponding din.

Unfortunately, none of this is new to her. Every day in Storybrooke was the same: monotonous, stagnant, safe. And working here never helped this fact. The sense of being cooped up and stationary had always made Harlow feel antsy and on edge. As if some fragment of her psyche knew she was meant for more than life behind this wretched desk.

Not that this realization would ever do her much good. As Harlow can't imagine Regina letting her go. She knows as well as anyone in this town that the mayor seemed incapable of granting others even a chance at happiness. Particularly not someone she deemed a lowly assistant, and not with what she could hang over Harlow's head.

Harlow supposed quitting would be an option for some, but they'd never met the likes of Regina. And would never know the consequences for incurring her wrath.

Clenching her jaw frustratedly, Harlow felt herself grow infinitely more restless—she might as well be wearing an invisible shackle. Stubbornly refusing to let that woman invade any other waking thought, she happily decides to let her thoughts wander elsewhere. Eyes falling to the travel magazine hidden in her drawer, she smiles when a familiar idea strikes her. She couldn't escape these four walls physically, but could certainly do so another way.

Casting a cautious glance at Regina's office door, she's pleased to see it closed as she lifts the magazine and is swiftly lost in its pages.

So spellbound is she with its vivid images and words, that she doesn't notice someone approaching her. "Planning a trip?" Her visitor inquires in a distinct Northern Irish accent.

Startled by the interruption, Harlow glances up to see a handsome and stern looking man standing before her. "Graham!" she breathed quietly, pulse quickening at the sight of him.

He gazed at her apologetically. "Sorry to interrupt," he said, fiddling with the pager clip on his belt.

"N-no. It's fine. I mean—" Harlow cut herself off and laughed helplessly, embarrassed by her apparent inability to speak. As per usual, normal thoughts seemed incapable of forming in his presence. "Please don't tell Regina," she said eventually.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he assures her, a winsome smile emerging on his face. "Your secret is safe with me."

Harlow started to match the expression, but the knowledge of he and Regina's trysts decided to settle itself over her, effectively preventing her from doing so. From the perspective of someone who worked closely with her, the mayor was none too discreet on that front. Harlow had found that out the hard way.

The very thought of them together made her heart twitch painfully, and she fought against the acid now rising in her throat, mood effectively deteriorated. "Well… I better get back to work."

For the briefest moment, Harlow thought Graham appeared crestfallen by her sudden distantness, but grew certain she'd imagined it. He and Regina were in a relationship. Or at the very least something that might pass as one. Harlow's reception of him should be the least of his concerns, she thinks.

And yet sometimes she could've sworn she saw something in his eyes. Maybe—

Regina's door swung open. "Sheriff? You have news?"

Graham turned to her, the brass of his badge gleaming. "I do."

Smiling, Regina ushers him into her office—her hand lingering on his arm longer than Harlow thought necessary. Unable to stop herself, the assistant watched them out of the corner of her eye, stomach swiftly beginning to turn. She could only hope there would come a day when she could leave this accursed place.

Five o'clock finally arrives and Harlow could not be more grateful. Bidding a goodbye to Mr. Krzyszkowski, she readies herself to take off but is halted by the sudden insistent ringing of her cellphone.

Extracting it, she's a mite surprised to see Regina's number on the screen before answering in a partially manufactured, chipper tone. "Madam Mayor. I thought you and Henry were having dinner?" Shortly before three on Tuesdays—when Regina left the office early in order to more spend time with her son—usually provided Harlow with a much needed respite from her demanding and often overbearing presence.

"Is Henry with you?"

Harlow felt a prickle of alarm at the unexpected question, as well as underlying distress in it, but managed to answer normally nonetheless. "No. Of course not." Now anxious, she switched the phone to her other ear, hand unconsciously tightening on the straps of her purse. "Why do you ask?"

"I—" Regina cut herself off, voice uncharacteristically thick with emotion.

Harlow found herself disarming at the anguish evident in it. "What's wrong?"

"It's… Henry. He's missing."

Harlow's heart promptly sinks at this information, mouth going dry as bone. "What?" she asked, dropping unceremoniously into her chair.

Regina's voice grew frantic, steadily climbing into hysteria. "I-I came home and he wasn't here, the school says he didn't come in today. I-I've searched everywhere, the house, the school, Archie's, but he's gone! HE'S GONE!"

Moved by her boss's panic, Harlow steeled herself and endeavored to calm her down. "Okay, Regina. Call Graham. Have him ask around town, and I'll be there as soon as I can."

Hanging up, Harlow moves with purpose as headed towards her car and began the drive to the Mills mansion on Mifflin Street. Despite her feelings toward her, she would help Regina get through this.

For hours they waited in worried anticipation. For hours Harlow watched Regina, anxious and near plaintive, repeatedly pace the length of the foyer in her home.

Brow furrowing, Harlow instinctively raised a hand to comfort her, but for the nth time in as many minutes thought better of it. Regina wasn't someone who'd like to be coddled, but Harlow can't help but feel sorry for her in this moment. This very well couldn't be an easy thing to experience and, while she very well may be the embodiment of evil, Harlow had never doubted that Regina cared for her child.

When Harlow picked up the sound of Henry speaking outside, she nearly sagged in relief. "—just a mom, and she's evil."

An unfamiliar voice replied skeptically, "Evil? That's a bit extreme, isn't it?"

"She is. She doesn't love me," Henry said mournfully. "She only pretends to."

The woman's voice took on a sympathetic tone. "Kid… I'm sure that's not true."

"Henry!" Regina exclaimed. Having perked up at the sound his voice, she yanked the front door open before running out and hugging him. Instantly, Harlow follows her, curious eyes finding those of a blonde woman standing nearby before her gaze ventures back to mother and child. "Are you okay?" The mayor pulled away, eyes roving over her son with the feverish fretfulness only a parent could muster. "Where have you been?! What happened?"

"I found my real mom!" shouted Henry, removing himself from his mother's embrace as he dashed inside. Harlow reached out and brushed one of his slumped shoulders as he did so. Poor kid.

"Y-you're Henry's birth mother?" Regina asked the woman, looking as if she'd been punched in the gut.

Hanging in the air, the question was one they all knew didn't need to be answered. Already, Harlow could see traces of Henry in the blonde woman's face. Her eyes most of all. "Hi," she said, grimacing uncertainly.

Her name was Emma Swan.

After spending a moment or two wrapped in uncompanionable silence, Regina had regained her composure long enough to invite her in for a glass of apple cider.

Once back indoors, Harlow retrieved three glasses from the kitchen and made way to where the pair currently sat in Regina's study. Walking over to where a serving tray was kept, Harlow seized the glass carafe and began pouring their drinks, ears attuned to their conversation.

"I'm sorry he dragged you out of your life," Regina said from her chair. Posture ramrod straight and immaculate, she observed Emma through ever calculating eyes. Yet her countenance was unusually open and kind. A guise so Emma would let down her guard? Harlow wouldn't put it past her. "I really don't know what's gotten into him."

Emma asked the question present on all of their minds. "How'd he find me?"

I have an inkling, thought Harlow, handing she and Regina their respective glasses. Yesterday, she'd caught Henry rifling through her purse with a determined zest. Naturally, he'd clammed up when she confronted him, one of her credit cards in hand, but had been adamant in his claim that he was doing the right thing. 'I need to bring the Savior to Storybrooke', he'd said. Having immediately found it best not to ask, Harlow merely took her card back and sent him on his way. He must have taken someone else's, she surmised. But whose? Certainly not Regina's.

"No idea. When I adopted him, he was only three weeks old. Records were sealed, I was told the birth mother didn't want to have any contact."

"You were told right." said Emma guardedly, taking a hearty sip from her cup.

"And the father?"

"There was one," Emma replied, tone once more making it clear any questions in that direction would entirely be unwelcome.

But Regina had always been a straight shooter. "Do I need to be worried about him?"

Pain and discomfort flickered briefly over Emma's face before she suppressed it. "Nope. Doesn't even know."

"Do I need to be worried about you, Miss Swan?" The mayor asked, regarding her coolly.

Emma balked, affronted. "Absolutely not."

"You have to understand," Regina continued levelly. "Ever since I became mayor, balancing things has been tricky. You have a job, I assume?"

If Emma recognized the none too subtle jab of condescension, she ignored it. "Uh, I keep busy. Yeah."

"Imagine having another one on top of it. That's being a single mom, so I push for order. Am I strict? I suppose. But I do it for his own good. I want Henry to excel in life. I don't think that makes me evil, do you?

"I'm sure he's just saying that because of the fairy tale thing," Emma said, causing Harlow's hand to tighten involuntarily on her glass. Henry had asked her not to bring the book up to his mother, and she'd found it equally prudent not to do so. That was one fire Regina would snuff out before it truly had the chance to start.

"I'm sorry. I really have no idea what you're talking about."

Seeing Regina's staggered expression, Emma quickly seemed to realize her mistake. "You know what, it's none of my business. He's your kid. And I really should be heading back."

"Of course," Regina said, standing. Apparently very eager for her departure, she leads Emma out and closes the door behind her, appearing dare Harlow say, relieved. "Well that's that."

Harlow doesn't have the heart to tell her otherwise. She'd seen the uncertainty on Emma's face as she'd left, the hesitance displayed there. Had Henry gotten to her during their brief acquaintance?

This was Harlow's main concern as she drove home that night. If Emma perchance decided to stay, Regina would stop at nothing to make her leave. And that would surely wreak havoc on all parties involved. Henry especially.

Weary of the very thought, Harlow chooses to banish it as she arrives at her apartment. Unsurprised to find it drearily dark and vacant, she walked into her room and collapsed on the bed. Somewhat drained, she briefly contemplates going on her usual run, but eventually foregoes the idea in favor of a shower and sleep.

As her eyes slide shut, she's looks forward to the sense of fulfillment and happiness her dreams would bring. For tomorrow would undoubtedly follow much of the same humdrum cycle. Wanting, wishing, hoping. It'd never end.

A/n: Chapter 3, the final part of this chapter, will be posted soon guys. I thank you all for your patience!