A/N: Happy Easter everyone! This chapter has zero reference to chocolate, by the way. Or Jesus, come to that.

As Regina looked around the meeting room that morning, she had no problem identifying which of her staff had been the designated drivers the night before. While no one had gotten too drunk, a fair amount of alcohol had been consumed at the expense of their latest satisfied client. Several people were looking a little worse for wear as a result. She didn't mind; her team had worked hard on the campaign and deserved to celebrate the win.

"Anything else to discuss before we wrap this up?" Regina asked, scanning her own list of pointers and confirming they had indeed covered everything.

The rest of her team shook their heads, at which she dismissed them. Meetings were never the most productive use of anyone's time but sometimes they were unavoidable. After the initial launch of their marketing campaign for Golden Garments, Regina had wanted to gather everyone together and make sure their roles and responsibilities were clear going forwards. Satisfied that they were, she returned to her own office.

The view through the floor to ceiling windows of her corner office took her breath away, as it always did. She stood for a moment, overlooking the city of Portland from her twelfth floor height before she took her seat and fired up her computer. A flurry of email alerts made her groan but then she scolded herself. This was a good thing. Half of the messages were from potential clients, interested in her company's services. The fact that they had landed the campaign for the well-known independent clothing company had caught people's attention.

When she had joined her mother's business after she completed college, Regina had been unsure about the viability of the core value of Mills Marketing. Her mother's insistence that she didn't want to work for large, multi-national corporations had made no sense to her; fresh out of Harvard Business School and focused on making profit. But over the years as she worked under and then alongside her mother, she had come around to the woman's way of thinking.

It wasn't about working for the biggest clients or generating the most money. It was about doing work which they believed; working for ethical companies who looked after their consumers and their staff. The majority of their clients were small, local businesses, many of whom had an environmental aspect to their business. From the products they made and the materials they used to the services they provided and the overall ethos behind their business plans. It didn't take Regina long to realise how much more satisfying it was to work with companies for whom she genuinely wanted to do a good job. And due to their success rate, the money wasn't bad either.

Regina relished the challenge of competing with the giant companies as well. Golden Garments was now rolling out their products across the United States, after being available only in Portland and Maine for years and were beginning to compete with other industry powerhouses. Yet the company hadn't sold out their values and continued to make all of their clothes and source all of their materials within the US. Regina couldn't wait to see what sort of results her team could produce.

Just as she began answering the first email, a knock on her door interrupted her. Her office walls were all glass, as was the door. Her mother believed in an open workspace and beyond the transparent sheets was a large room filled with desks where her team was working. Outside her door, she saw, stood her assistant. Regina waved him inside.

"Good morning," she smiled. "Did you enjoy last night?"

"Very much so. Thank you for inviting me," the bearded man replied.

"Nonsense, Graham," Regina scoffed. "You're as much part of the team as anyone else. Of course you were invited."

A slight blush rose above the stubble. "Thank you, Ms Mills. I wanted to ask if you had any particular requests for your lunch."

Regina glanced at the top of her computer screen and saw that it was already after eleven in the morning. "I'm still full from last night," she admitted. "I hadn't even thought about lunch. Can you just get me my usual salad?"

"Of course," Graham nodded. "It was good food, wasn't it? That chef is very talented."

"Yes, she is," Regina conceded. The dishes she had eaten had all been divine. But the other talent Emma had displayed also crossed her mind. She still wasn't sure what the woman had done to that dish the previous evening but Henry had eaten something new. She couldn't remember the last time that had happened. For too long the list of food deemed 'acceptable' to her son had remained stagnant. Plain crackers, white bread, pasta, canned Heinz beans, tomato sauce, plain yoghurt, strawberry jam, apples, pears, grapes, milk and apple juice. But now, perhaps, a vegetable could be added to the list in its natural form.

"Um, Ms Mills," Graham said after several seconds had passed and it became apparent that his boss had become distracted.

"Sorry, Graham," Regina said, snapping back into the room. "Could you get me a coffee before you head out to get the salad, please? I've got a busy day ahead of me."

"Of course," Graham nodded before leaving the room and setting off to complete his tasks.

Regina returned her gaze to her computer screen and tried to focus on replying to the email before her. It took longer than it should; thoughts of her son creeping into her mind every few seconds as she remembered the previous evening.

Just as she pressed send at last and moved onto the next email, Graham returned with her coffee.

"Thank you," she smiled as she took the steaming mug.

"You're welcome. Oh and I got a call from the restaurant. Apparently they found a toy car under our table and assumed it was Henry's. Someone's going to drop it over here this afternoon."

"Seriously?" Regina frowned. "It's a cheap toy. They needn't waste their time nor fuel. Henry has a box full of cars."

"Yes but that is his favourite one," Graham reminded his boss.

"He hasn't said anything about losing it," Regina frowned. "How do you know it's his favourite anyway?"

"I was sat next to him last night and it was the only thing he talked about," Graham explained. He had known Henry for the whole of the child's life and was rather fond of the little man. "He was spouting off all sorts of facts and figures. I'm sure when he gets back from school this afternoon he'll realise its absence."

Regina had to admit that was true. The duo had overslept that morning and it had been a rush to get out of the house and to school on time. Henry hadn't even had a chance to notice the car was missing.

"Fine," Regina said. "Well, when they drop it off, can you make sure reception say thank you on my behalf?"

"Of course," Graham said. "I'm going to get your lunch now, unless there's anything urgent you need me to do?"

"Can you please rearrange that conference call I am supposed to have with our AdWords advisor this afternoon to next week? I'm not going to have time today and the script is taking care of all bid changes anyway. The strategy direction can wait a few more days."

Graham nodded and retreated once more to complete his tasks as Regina recommenced her chore of replying to emails. She sighed as she saw that two more had arrived in the time she had spent talking to Graham. Sometimes it seemed never-ending. I need a vacation, Regina thought to herself as she clicked reply and started to type.

Lunch at Hook, Line and Sinkerwas quiet that Friday. Emma was glad. She hadn't slept well the night before. So she had left her staff to manage without her and retreated to the small office at the back of the kitchen. It was more of a cupboard than an office, in fact, but it was where Emma kept all her paperwork. Ahead of the weekend rush, she set about double-checking order forms and calling suppliers to make sure her kitchen was fully stocked.

"Em, do you have any plans this afternoon?"

Ruby had appeared in the doorway, hair already undone from its bun so the shock of red was visible once more. She had finished her shift and was heading to Belle's. Her girlfriend was studying for her masters and had no class on Friday. Ruby went over every week to 'help' Belle write essays. Emma had a strong suspicion it became the least productive time of the studious woman's week.

"No, just gotta get these orders in, why?"

"I found a toy which that kid from last night left here," Ruby explained. "I said someone would drop it over to their offices in the city."

"The city? You mean Portland?"

"As opposed to the tiny city of Storybrooke? Yeah," Ruby said. "Figured you'd get there on your bike faster than anyone else. The parking where they are located is a nightmare."

"You realise I'm a chef, not a delivery service, right? Send one of the wait staff and chuck them ten bucks."

Emma wasn't sure why she was resisting. In truth, the thought of seeing Regina Mills again had sent a jolt of electricity through her body. Her restless night had been plagued with images of the woman and her son, a flurry of emotions and memories coiling inside her. But she had woken up resolved to forget them and move on. Whatever was going on with the small boy, it was none of her business. And the fact that the woman had a son meant that the other reason Emma couldn't stop thinking about the brunette was irrelevant. The woman was clearly straight. That was the end of it.

"I'm not paying one of them to run it into the city," Ruby said. "They hate working split shifts enough as it is. Asking them to do this would just add insult to injury."

"What about my injury?" Emma asked, leaning back in her chair.

"You love any excuse to ride that bike," Ruby pointed out. "And don't tell me you had any plans. I know you were going to sneak home and binge watch Grace and Frankie."

Emma folded her arms but said nothing. What could she say? Ruby was right. "Fine, but you owe me a beer."

"Deal," Ruby grinned.

"Not from here," Emma added. "We have to go somewhere else, so you actually have to pay for it. I know you fudge the books to cover the bottles you take."

Ruby looked nonplussed at the accusation. She didn't care if Emma knew her sneaky secret. It wasn't like their boss needed the money and she and Emma between them were the only reason the restaurant was running so successfully. She deserved the occasional beer after a long shift.

"Fine, how about you join Belle and I tomorrow night after work? We're going to that new cocktail bar in the city. Some of her college friends know the owner or something. Should be a good night."

"I'm in," Emma said.

"Awesome," Ruby grinned. "Here." She reached into the pocket of her slacks and withdrew the small toy car.

"You're kidding, right?" Emma said as the item landed on her desk. "You want me to drive to Portland to return a Hot Wheels which costs about fifty cents?"

"You agreed," Ruby pointed out. "And I think they're worth more than that. Anyway, I've gotta head cos I'm already late to meet Belle. See you later."

And with that she was gone, leaving Emma staring at the tiny car in disbelief. While it was true that she had no plans, she hardly thought it was worth her time to drive into the city to return such a worthless toy. But, a small voice in her head reminded her, you'll get to see Regina again.

"Fuck it," Emma said, slamming her notes shut, picking up the car and shrugging on her leather jacket.

It was soon after three when Regina had finally replied to all of the emails in her inbox. She smiled in satisfaction as the whoosh sounded to illustrate the final one had been sent. Spinning around in her chair, she gazed out over the city, rewarding herself with just a few moments of quiet before she began her next task.

Barely ten seconds had passed before there was a knock at the door. A quiet groan and Regina swung back around. Her eyes widened at the sight before her. Through the glass she took in her assistant, waiting patiently for permission to enter, and the unexpected figure hovering behind his shoulder. Hiding her surprise, she waved her hand and the duo entered, taking off her reading glasses as she did so.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Ms Mills, but Miss Swan was quite insistent that she should return Henry's toy personally."

"Was she now?" Regina said, eyes fixed on the blonde who was clad in black leather. "And you were unable to stop her from doing so?"

Green eyes gazed calmly back, reading the slight twinkle in Regina's eyes and knowing that the brunette was teasing her employee.

Graham stuttered for a moment before admitting that Emma may have presented him with some delicious-looking desserts.

"I brought some for you too," Emma said, producing the now half-empty box from behind her and holding it out.

Regina eyed it for a moment before dismissing Graham and asking Emma to take a seat. The blonde did, depositing the box of goodies she had gathered from the dessert fridge on Regina's desk.

"Bribing my staff?" Regina asked, that same twinkle now directed towards Emma.

"I had some spare pastries and I didn't want them to go to waste," the blonde shrugged, leaning back in the chair and grinning at the woman before her. Emma was having to use all her self control not to drop her gaze down over Regina's body, clad in a form fitting maroon dress.

"And you wanted so desperately to gain access to my office why?"

"I wanted to know what was so special about this," the toy car landed on Regina's desk alongside the box, "that it was worth me driving twenty minutes into the city to return it."

Regina reached out and picked up the toy, slipping it into her bag at once so it wasn't forgotten again. "It's Henry's favourite," she explained. "Although I wasn't aware it was missing until Graham told me the restaurant had phoned. I did tell him it wasn't worth someone's time and effort but he said the arrangements had already been made. I apologise for wasting your time but please know that Henry will be grateful."

"Well, if it's his favourite, then I suppose the journey was justified," Emma smiled. "How is he?"

Eyebrows rose. "How is my son?"

Cheeks blushed. "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

"You've taken quite the interest in my son's wellbeing in the past 24 hours, Chef Swan," Regina said. "Your concern for his meal last night led you to create that impressive spread for him and now you're driving twenty minutes to return his toy."

"Ruby, our front of house manager, asked me to come here."

"And you agreed," Regina shot back. "You're the head chef at one of the most respected restaurants in the state and yet you drove here yourself. Surely you could have delegated this task to someone else if you so wished."

"I could have." It was true. There were any number of aspiring young chefs in her kitchen who would have been willing to return the toy had their boss asked.

"But you didn't," Regina continued. "Why not?"

Emma shifted in her chair, uncomfortable. She could feel Regina's eyes on her, appraising her movements and trying to decipher the meaning behind them.

"I had nothing else to do," Emma shrugged. "And I like the ride."

"Yes, I'm sure city traffic is every biker's dream," Regina deadpanned.

Emma had to admit the traffic had been a nightmare. She had dodged and weaved as much as she could but it had still taken her longer to reach the office of Mills Marketing than she had expected. And then she had been stopped at reception and told to leave the toy there. She wasn't sure what made her do it but she had kicked up a fuss and insisted she be allowed to see 'Ms Mills'. When her assistant had appeared, Emma had produced the box of desserts and easily enticed Graham to escort her up to his boss. But now she was here; sat opposite the beautiful woman and suddenly it became too much. The air was cloying, choking, suffocating. Her bike leathers were tight, hot, unforgiving. She had to get out of there; she couldn't put herself through this again. Crushing on a straight girl never ended well.

"Well, I delivered it." She gestured towards the bag below Regina's desk. "I guess I'll be going now."

Emma stood abruptly and turned to leave the office.

"Chef Swan, wait," Regina called. Stopping in her tracks, Emma turned on the spot. Regina was standing now, the teasing smirk gone from her face. "Thank you," she said, sincere and honest and unguarded for the first time since Emma had entered her office.

"No problem," Emma said. "I'm glad Henry has his favourite toy back."

"Not for that," Regina explained. "For last night."

"Oh, you're welcome. It's my job."

"I don't mean our food," Regina clarified again. As someone whose job was communicating clear brand messages, she really was making a mess of this conversation. "I meant for Henry's meal."

"Oh."

"I … he … I mean, he's fussy," she finished at last.

Emma didn't say anything. She could tell from the look on Regina's face that the reveal was causing some sort of inner turmoil. But she also knew that what she had seen last night wasn't fussiness. It was more than that; the way Henry interacted with his food reminded her of someone, of a time in her life she would rather forget. Only a few seconds passed before Regina continued.

"He doesn't like much food but last night he tried something new. It might sound silly but that's a big thing for him."

"The capsicum?"

Regina nodded. "He's … it's hard," she admitted. "He won't eat many vegetables so if he's willing to eat something new and it's healthy, that's an important step forwards for us."

"I understand," Emma said. And she did; more than Regina knew. "I'm glad I can help, even though I still feel bad that I overstepped. You were right, I shouldn't have prepared anything without asking you."

"I'm glad you didn't," Regina said. "If you had asked, I would have said no."

"Why?" Emma couldn't help herself, the question spilling from her lips before she had the chance to filter it and recognise it for the invasive, personal probe that it was.

Regina looked away from the curious green eyes before her. She didn't talk about this with anyone. Not even Kathryn, her closest friend. Henry's eating habits were the unspoken elephant in the room whenever the duo spent time with any of her friends. Yet for some reason she found herself wanting, almost needing, to confide in Emma. Why, she wasn't sure, but something was making her talk. Perhaps it was the fact that the woman was a stranger. Perhaps it was that the woman's dish the previous evening had been a milestone for Henry. Perhaps it was something she couldn't, wouldn't name. Whatever the reason, something was making her talk. And now she had started, she wasn't sure she could stop.

"I'm scared to push him to try new food," Regina confessed. "He resists everything. The only reason he ate that capsicum last night was because I was distracted and not watching him. Had I agreed to the meal, I would have been hovering. As it was, he had already eaten his crackers and apple so I wasn't so focused on making sure he ate. On his own terms, he tried something new."

"You know crackers and an apple aren't providing him with enough nutrition, right?" Emma said, her voice soft.

"He eats other things," Regina defended. "They were just the easiest to bring to a restaurant."

"Ok," Emma said. "But you're still worried?"

A pause and then Regina nodded. The women were both still standing but after a moment, the brunette sank into her chair. Emma hesitated before taking her seat once more.

"How long has he been fussy?" Emma asked, using the word Regina chose earlier despite her own suspicions about what was going on with the small boy.

"It began about two years ago."

"Have you spoken to a doctor?"

Regina nodded. "He says Henry's underweight and has told me to feed him more. But it doesn't work like that. No matter what I offer him; he won't eat."

"Have you spoken to a specialist?"

"What sort of specialist?" Regina asked.

"A child psychologist."

Regina shook her head. "No, I haven't."

"Maybe you should," Emma said. "Ms Mills, I -"

"Regina," the brunette interrupted. "You can call me Regina." As the head of the company, Regina was always addressed formally by her employees but for some reason, when it came to the blonde opposite her, the title felt wrong. Especially when, for reasons Regina didn't understand, their conversation had taken an alarmingly personal turn and was tumbling towards her deepest, darkest worries.

Nodding, Emma started again. "Regina, I don't want to speak out of turn and I know I only spent a short amount of time with your son but I think you should consider speaking to someone who has experience with this."

"This? Fussy children? Aren't all children fussy?"

"Not this fussy," Emma said. "And I'm no expert but I don't think this is normal fussiness."

Regina averted her eyes from the piercing green pair before her. She wasn't foolish. She knew what was going on with her son. But she had never spoken about it out loud; had never acknowledged it such a confronting way. It made it real. She had been in denial, she supposed, refusing to accept what she had suspected for months. Yet now, opposite Emma Swan, the realisation hit her like a tonne of bricks.

"I have a lot of work to do," Regina said suddenly. "Thank you for returning the car and thank you for the desserts."

Emma blinked at the abrupt switch. Much as she wanted to stay, to talk, to confide in the brunette, she recognised a non-negotiable dismissal when she heard it.

"You're welcome," Emma said, standing up for the second time. "Say hello to Henry for me."

"I will. Thank you again, Miss Swan."

"Emma," the blonde said. "You can call me Emma."

Rich chocolate eyes burned into hers for a split second before Emma spun around and left the office without another word.