A/N: Happy Wednesday! Here's your mid-week dose of SwanQueen (except our ladies aren't actually together in this chapter – sorry!). To make up for it, at the end of this chapter you guys have the chance to significantly alter the direction this story will take … Read my second A/N for information.

Hangovers and children don't mix. This was the revelation Regina had come to when she was abruptly jolted awake by her son on Sunday morning. It had been close to two in the morning when she had a last crawled into bed. As soon as the Uber driver had dropped her off, she had headed straight for her liqueur cabinet and poured a stiff measure of her homemade apple cider. And then another one. As Henry began to tell her all about the fun he and Alex had had the previous evening, she was regretting those final two drinks.

"And then we made a fort out of the couch cushions and Alex was the princess and I was protecting her from the dragon."

"Who was the dragon?" Regina asked as she leaned over at looked at her cell. It was dead. In her drunken state, she must have forgotten to plug it in the night before.

"Ella was the dragon," Henry said. "And she breathed fire and tried to get into the fort but I saved us."

"Well done," Regina yawned, flopping back onto her pillow.

Henry climbed on top of her and straddled her stomach, bouncing up and down. "Can we go to the park again today?"

"Maybe later," Regina said. "Right now, can Mom sleep a little bit longer?"

"Are you tired?"

"Yes," Regina said.

"What did you and Aunty Kat do yesterday to make you tired."

"There was lots of talking," Regina said. There was no need to tell her son that the conversation hadn't been with Kat but rather a blonde whirlwind who had turned their world upside down with her blunt, straight to the point, factual approach.

"Talking isn't tiring," Henry said, bouncing up and down harder.

The need to pee suddenly became the only thing Regina could think about. "Off please," she said. Henry slid to the side at once and the brunette rolled away and climbed out of bed. Her son followed her into the bathroom and hauled himself up onto the little chair in the corner. Regina sat on the toilet and went about her business as her son continued their conversation. Boundaries disappeared as soon as she became a parent.

"Talking doesn't make you tired," he insisted. "Running or climbing or playing football makes your tired. But talking is just moving your mouth. Look." He pointed to his lips and mimed talking.

"True," Regina agreed, standing up to flush the toilet and wash her hands. "But I was talking until very late."

"How late?" Henry asked, trotting after his mother as she made her way back to bed.

"Very late," Regina said, plugging in her dead phone before sliding herself under the duvet. Henry followed at once, his head resting on the pillow beside Regina's so their noses were almost touching.

"Ten o'clock at night?"

"Later," Regina gasped.

"Wow," Henry mused. "Will I ever be able to stay up until later?"

"One day, my little prince," Regina said. "When you're older."

"I can't wait to be older," Henry said, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling, wistful and optimistic.

Regina wished she felt the same way. For her, however, the road for Henry was filled with obstacle which, thanks to Emma, she was now able to put a name to. She knew hiding from the truth wasn't mature yet she couldn't help but long for the days when reality wasn't quite so terrifying. Just one more day; one more day believing everything was fine. That's all she wanted. As she looked over at her son, however, her eyes were drawn to his collarbone jutting harshly out of his skin. It wasn't fine. Henry wasn't fine. But now she knew what was wrong, she was determined to make things better, to make him better.

It was a testament to how terrible Ruby felt that she didn't even have it in her to badger Emma about what had happened with Regina. The brunette leaned heavily on the bar for most of Sunday, delegating everything she could to her team of wait staff and wincing at loud noises. Emma wasn't much better and squirrelled herself away in her office as much as possible, only emerging into the chaotic kitchen to help with a particularly large lunch order.

By the time Hook, Line And Sinker closed that evening, Emma and Ruby were more than ready for their day off. Shedding their work clothes as soon as they walked in the door of their apartment, the friends were curled up on the couch less than ten minutes later, Netflix already fired up.

"So, are you going to tell me?" Ruby asked at last.

"Tell you what?" Emma drawled, not taking her eyes off the television.

"Last night. Regina. Are you gonna tap that?"

Emma glowered. "Shut up. I told you, she's straight."

"Straight as a … um, as a bent thing," Ruby finished at last, too tired to think up a witty retort.

"A boomerang?" Emma suggested.

"Or a paperclip," Ruby added.

"A banana. A coat hanger. A broken bone. An open laptop. A -"

"Yeah, right, there are lots of bent things. Including Regina Mills."

"I hate the word bent," Emma scowled. "And I know you do too."

"Fine," Ruby agreed. "But you know what I mean. Regina isn't straight, Emma. Both Belle and I agree on that. And you like her, right?"

Emma blushed. Her lip became trapped between her teeth as she hesitated in her answer. But Ruby didn't need a verbal confirmation. She knew what Emma was feeling, possibly more clearly than the blonde herself. That Emma was attracted to Regina had been obvious. Ruby also knew that something was holding her friend back from admitting this crush. Which was strange. It wasn't in Emma's nature to hide her attraction to others.

"Are you going to call her?"

"I don't have her number," Emma admitted. "But she has mine."

"Do you want her to call you?"

White teeth dug deeper into her pale lip for a moment before she nodded. "Yeah, I do."

Emma wanted Regina to call more than anything. And the reason for that call wasn't only about her attraction to the beautiful mother. Ever since the previous evening, Emma had found herself praying for her cell to ring, not because she wanted to see Regina but because she wanted to help Henry. Emma wasn't big-headed enough to think she was in a position to offer advice and support as a professional. She had been a patient and was in no way qualified to take on the role of a psychologist or therapist. Yet she wanted to be involved, somehow.

If she was honest with herself, she wanted to be there to support Regina as much as Henry. That support didn't have to come as a result of any kind of sexual relationship. Was Emma attracted to Regina? Of course. Had she already had a dream about the two of them from which she had awoken, body thrumming with desire? Yes, she had. But was Emma going to make a move? Of course not. Despite what Ruby and Belle thought, Emma had picked up on no signs of Regina being into women. True, her gaydar wasn't the best but wouldn't she have seen something? Emma had looked hot on Saturday night but after their initial meeting, Regina hadn't been treating at Emma as anything other than an acquaintance. And surely that long stare when they first bumped into each other could be attributed to surprise.

"I hope she calls, Em," Ruby said, pulling Emma back to the present. "You deserve to meet someone who makes you happy again."

"I am happy," Emma pointed out.

"Ok, you deserve to make someone who can make you orgasm."

A pillow hit Ruby square in the face.

Regina's hangover faded only in the few short hours between Henry going to bed and herself turning in for the night. Ella and Alex had spent the morning with the Mills' and there had been a repeat of the dragon game from the night before; this time with two dragons for Henry to heroically fight off. When her son tackled her with tickles, she very nearly threw up on him and had to surrender to the prince far too easily.

Their afternoon had been quieter; just the two of them reading and doing jigsaws until it was time for dinner. Henry had insisted on beans on toast; a typical British dinner he had inherited a taste for during a family vacation there when he was three. It wasn't unhealthy, Regina had convinced herself as she heated up the beans and spread a thin layer of butter on the toast. He ate half of the dish and most of an apple Regina had cut up. The apple juice remained undrunk, however, and when she tried to persuade him to drink it, the signs of a tantrum began to rear their ugly heads. She backed down, too tired and too nervous to push.

Once Henry was in bed, Regina pulled out her laptop and settled herself on the couch. Googling 'child psychologist Portland', she scrolled past the ads (because being in marketing she knew never to click them) and began to research.

It didn't take long before she began to investigate beyond the professionals working in her area, the fears which had surfaced last night now bubbling upwards. The Google searches became more intense. The pages became more detailed. The information became more confronting. Eventually she slammed the lid shut, breathing harsh and shallow.

Emma's words echoed in her head.

You can stop him from hurting himself. Did Henry know that he was causing damage to himself? And if he knew, was it deliberate?

I'm lucky. Would Henry be 'lucky'? Or would he be one of the unlucky ones?

I survived. Not everyone does. But Henry would, wouldn't he? Regina couldn't even bear to think of what her life might be like without her son.

She saved my life. Would she be able to find a therapist who could do the same for Henry?

The laptop reopened and began looking into the specialists in her area, reading reviews and testimonials. She resolved to call first thing in the morning to book an appointment with the best child psychologist in Portland.

Emma's body clock woke her up far too early for her liking. Having only one day off per week didn't allow her enough time to get out of sync from her usual wake-up routine. But instead of hopping out of bed to shower as she would usually do, she rolled over and fired up her computer. Two hours disappeared into an endless loop of YouTube videos until Ruby barged into her bedroom, impatient to find out the day's plan.

"Can't we just do nothing?" Emma groaned as her best friend threw herself down on the end of the bed, fully dressed and full of beans.

"Nope," Ruby said, the 'p' popped from her lips. "We get one day off a week and we're making the most of it."

"I think I'm still hungover from Saturday," Emma protested. "Can we make the most of it by watching TV?"

"Come on, Ems, it's a nice day," Ruby whined, getting up and tugging open the heavy curtains so bright sunlight filled the room. Emma shrank back in disgust. "What if I said I'm up for a ride?"

At that, Emma perked up. It was rare for Ruby to want to get on the back of Emma's motorbike. She was mildly terrified of the thing even though she knew Emma was a competent rider. And the promise of a mini road trip together was one that Emma could get on board with.

"Really?"

"If it'll get you out of the house, sure," Ruby said. "We can take McDonalds up to the lakes if you like?"

"Can I cook us something decent?"

Ruby rolled her eyes. No one would ever catch her making a drink or even carrying a plate when she wasn't at work. "It's your day off but yeah, if that's what you want to do."

Emma nodded and at last emerged from under her duvet. She showered and dressed before heading to the kitchen. The fridge wasn't fully stocked but she managed to find enough ingredients to make several dishes which, combined, would deliver her body exactly what it needed to be healthy and strong.

Her obsession with nutrition had become such a part of her life that she barely noticed it any more. She was able to calculate most meals in her head so didn't appear too neurotic when it came to balancing her intake. Ruby had lived with Emma for three years and it had taken only a few months before she accepted it as just a quirk of her friend. It had been over a year later when Emma finally told Ruby where the behaviour stemmed from. The taller woman had been sympathetic and supportive but from that moment on, Emma knew her friend looked at her a little differently.

At the end of the day, Emma was just committed to making healthy meals. The evolution of the smart phone and the ability to easily record and calculate her exact intake had been something which Emma had welcomed. Before she had been writing down her meals at the end of each day and searching for exact nutritional values of items on the Internet. She admitted it was an obsession. OCD was a common trait amongst people suffering from anorexia. But she and her therapist had agreed that this was a far healthier way to be obsessed with food.

Quinoa salad with wilted spinach, tomatoes and feta cheese accompanied egg mayonnaise and smoked salmon sandwiches. Two bananas were slotted into the bag, along with bottles of water. Ruby was no help with the prep work but did, grudgingly, wash up while Emma went to load up her bike in the underground garage. She had a detachable luggage box which she fastened onto the back and added the lunch to. By the time she got back to their apartment, Ruby was dressed in her bike leathers (a gift from her flatmate years before), Emma's spare helmet tucked under her arm.

"Eager much?" Emma teased before disappearing to get ready herself.

Less than ten minutes later, the duo were speeding out of Storybrooke and heading towards the lakes. Ruby's arms were wrapped tightly around Emma's waist but as they drove, her eyes slowly opened and she began to enjoy the countryside flashing past as they left the city far behind.

Regina had just put down the phone with a new client when Graham knocked on her glass door with her lunch that Monday morning. Waving him inside, she took the salad and juice with a nod of thanks.

"I just got a call back from the office of a Doctor Archie Hopper," Graham said. "Apparently he wants to speak with you over the phone before your appointment tomorrow."

The man delivered the message completely without emotion but Regina knew he was curious. Who was this doctor and what was he a doctor of? Regina had personally made the appointment for Henry as soon as she arrived in the office, not wanting to get her assistant involved in her private family affairs. She had forgotten that any calls coming from the psychologist would be directed to Graham, however.

"Um, ok, thank you Graham. I'll call him back now."

Graham nodded once and left the room. Forgetting that she had been dreaming about her lunch throughout the entire length of the conference call she had just ended, Regina picked up her phone and typed in the number she had saved earlier.

After her research the night before, she had settled on Doctor Hopper for a number of reasons. His reputation was stellar, he had written a number of articles in the past few years on childhood eating disorders and he had worked for years as a paediatrician before making the switch to psychology. Although he had an MD, he didn't agree with using medication in the majority of mental health cases and had trained as a psychologist rather than a psychiatrist before setting up his own practice.

As soon as Regina's call was answered, the receptionist quickly put her through to Doctor Hopper to whom she introduced herself.

"Good afternoon, Ms Mills, or would you prefer Regina?" came the calm, reassuring voice.

"Ms Mills is fine, thank you," Regina said. "My assistant said you wanted to speak with me."

"Yes, I just had a few questions after I saw the notes my receptionist made. I see you've made an appointment for your son, Henry, tomorrow. You believe he may have an eating disorder, is that correct?"

A lump rose in Regina's throat. "Yes," she forced out.

"While I am more than happy to meet with you and Henry tomorrow and discuss everything then, I often find it better to meet with the parents beforehand so we can have a more open conversation without the child being in the room."

"Oh, ok. If that's what you think is best."

"I do," Archie continued. "Henry is only six, correct?"

"Yes."

"Then I think it would be easier for me to speak with you first to collect a little background with regards to his eating habits before I meet with Henry himself. He may not be aware of what he is doing when it comes to his food and he may also lack the language needed to explain his reasons. If I were to meet with you tomorrow at the arranged time, would you be able to bring Henry on Thursday? That way I'll have a couple of days to review what you tell me before I meet him."

"Yes, ok," Regina said, not even bothering to check her calendar to see if she was available. Any appointments could be rearranged. Nothing was as important as her son's health.

"Perfect," Archie said. "I'll have my receptionist schedule that second slot for you. Will your husband or partner be joining us?"

"No. I'm divorced," Regina replied.

There was a pause and Regina heard the tapping of keys. Already a note was being added to Henry's file. The thought made her gut twist.

"Ok, in that case, I'll see you tomorrow, Ms Mills," came the eventual reply.

"See you tomorrow," Regina said before hanging up the phone.

Her lunch sat in front of her for a further ten minutes before she finally reached forwards to open it. She wasn't hungry; she ate because she knew she needed to but the food was tasteless as she chewed and swallowed until it was all gone.

A/N: so … a few little reveals in this chapter.

And you get to make a decision. Regina can be divorced from three people. Comment or review this story with your preference. The most popular one will be used (I have back stories in my head for all three). Your choices are:

1. Robin

2. Daniel

3. Mal