"Slowly, Henry," she encouraged. "Take your time."

She nearly yelled at him when he removed his hand from the wall, walk-skating forward determinedly, but she refrained as he put one skate in front of the other. He lost his balance but found it again, but the interruption seemed to give him momentum as he all but ran the final few steps forward into Regina's reach.

"I did it!" He cheered happily, his arms tight around Regina's neck.

"You did!" She beamed, giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "Again?"

By the end of the hour, Henry had made his way around the ice rink all by himself with only a handful of falls under his belt. Regina was just grateful there were no sliced hands given the sharpness of his training skates, but she was thrilled that Henry had learned and improved. She was just helping him off of the ice, joining the procession of parents and children making their way back to the change rooms and to the party room Tina had booked for their lunch when Henry asked, "Can we show Emma I can skate now?"

Regina masked her expressions at the sound of the soldier's name and did her best not to show anything but excitement and support in front of her son. In her worry and paranoia of how things had left off with Emma, she failed to realize that Henry would also be affected should the soldier disappear from his life. It unnerved her and frightened her and excited her all at the same time. "Of course, dear," she finally answered.

"We can go when it snows and then we can build snowmen and snow angels and have hot chocolate and build snow angels and eat snow," he planned excitedly, talking through as Regina lifted him onto the bench and unstrapped his training skates, completely ignoring his mother's surprised face at his last plan. "I'm gonna buy her skates for Christmas and we can go skating."

"Are you?" Regina asked amused.

"Yeah," he nodded determinedly.

Tina clapped once and then thrice more in quick succession, and all the children in the change room stopped what they were doing to mimic their teacher.

"Okay, kiddies, who wants some hot chocolate?"

The class cheered their agreement before ushering their parents to where Tina had led them. It was there as Henry sat at a table with styrofoam cups of lukewarm hot chocolate and marshmallows that Regina was given the time to herself, and lately that time was usually spent half worrying about Emma and half scolding herself. Especially given her latest realization that more than two hearts could be broken should anything go awry made Regina's stomach churn.

Regina always prided herself on being the best she could be. Her mother had instilled that in her from a young age, and it only continued to morph until Regina was a meticulous perfectionist. Many adjectives she could use to describe herself – resourceful, cunning, passionate.

But right now she just felt like an ass in this room of hyper children and sociable parents.

The very next day after their argument, she had received a letter from the soldier dated close to a month back reassuring Regina that she was fine. She read the letter over and over again as if that could speak on Emma's behalf. Regina was foolish to think that it could remotely be her accepting her apology, but the brunette was just that desperate.

Hey, Emma had said.

I know it's been a while, but I'm still here. I just wanted to let you know that I'm okay. We went out on one of those missions, kind of like in the movies, you know. Except scarier and 3D with the moving seats and everything. But I'm okay. I got a couple cuts here and there. Nothing I can't handle. I just wanted to let you and the kid know. More you really. Don't tell Henry.

I miss you so much.

Yours,

Emma

The soldier didn't always have the neatest penmanship, but from the shakiness and weak pressure of the lettering, Regina could tell Emma hadn't been a hundred percent when she had written the letter. The fact that she had pushed passed whatever pain she was feeling just to let Regina know as soon as she could possibly and realistically manage made the guilt that had ruminated overnight increase tenfold.

What made matters worse was that she really had no other way of contacting Emma, and lest the blonde decide to brace the static and pick up the phone again, Regina was in the dark indefinitely.

It drove her mad, and it was her own doing.

For the most part, she was trying to remain calm. Abandoning Emma would most certainly not be the last thing she would ever say to the soldier. It wasn't even necessarily abandonment – more of a frustrated heat of the moment brash comment that had the potential to end whatever was going on between them. Knowing her luck it just would be the last thing she ever said to Emma. But the world wasn't that cruel. Right? She swallowed hard and pushed the niggling voice in her head that reminded her that yes, the world could be an awful place sometimes.

She had no idea where she stood with Emma. Dear god, what if the soldier didn't even bother to read her letter? That thought had only just occurred to Regina and it made her worrying double. No, she promised herself. No, they'd be fine. It was just a little argument. Nothing they couldn't get over.

But what if she gets hurt again? Badly this time. What if–

"You didn't get your cocoa." Tina sat across Regina and handed an adult-sized carry away mug to the ruminating brunette.

Regina blinked, taking in Tina's presence before shaking her head politely. "I'm not much of a chocolate drinker."

"We're fresh out of apple cider."

"I doubt it would hold up to my own even if you did have it."

The daycare teacher grinned and sipped her own hot beverage and nodded her head toward Henry's table where he was accompanied by three other girls. "Quite the ladies' man," Tina teased.

Regina rolled her eyes and scowled, though the upward curl of her lips showed Tina the comment wasn't completely disregarded. "Are you playing fairy godmother, now?"

"I'm just pointing out the obvious. He certainly has you and Emma wrapped around his finger."

The truth of the statement made Regina laugh, but she held back just a little bit at the mere mention of the soldier.

"Hey, what was that?" Tina asked quietly, ducking her head to give them a tad bit more privacy.

Immediately the mask Regina was so used to putting on appeared, and the Mayor shook her head insistently. "I have no idea to which you're referring to, dear."

They preschool teacher looked at her thoughtfully before shaking her head, an almost bemused smile on her face as she frowned. "I thought we were making progress as friends."

"You're Henry's teacher."

Tina rolled her eyes and stood. "Okay, Ms. Mills."

Regina frowned watching the curly-haired blonde depart and crouch down to Henry's table, engaging him and the other little girls on how they enjoyed skating. It amazed her how much energy Tina was able to exert when interacting with children and then spend her evenings taking Pan's boys under her guidance. The younger woman was doing so much, and Regina could barely even talk to her. She wouldn't blame the preschool teacher if she eventually gave up making small talk with her, and Tina had been right. They had been becoming something akin to friends over the month. Whether it was her self-deprecating attitude or something innate, Regina wasn't sure, but she could feel herself pushing others away, but this time she cared about the consequences.

She took a deep breath and sighed, adding Tina Bell to her already guilty conscious before taking a sip of the hot cocoa.


"I'll teach you how to skate, Un-ca August," Henry said determinedly on the phone that night when Regina had called the Sergeant.

The man chuckled. "I don't know, kid, what if I'm too slow for you?"

"It's okay," Henry nodded reassuringly. "I was slow too, but now I can go really, really, really, really fast."

"Really, really fast?" The man clarified.

"Yup. I went around one whole time all by myself."

"Holy smokes, kid, don't let the other kids get jealous of you."

Henry giggled proudly. "At school I made gifts for Mommy and Emma."

Regina's ears perked up at that. It was the first she had heard of such a craft since Henry usually loved filling her in on every little detail. Already she had heard what had gone down on the skating trip she was clearly present for, but she loved every minute of her child's story telling.

"Shhhh," Henry shushed dramatically, putting a finger to his lips though August had no way of seeing. "It's a secret."

"I won't tell anyone," August promised.

Regina pressed a hand to Henry's back. "Say goodbye to Uncle August, dear, it's nearly time for your bath."

Henry jutted out his bottom lip but said a goodbye nonetheless and handed the phone to his mother. Regina held it in one hand while helping Henry off the barstool, the boy already forgetting his disappointment in his haste to get in a few more minutes of playtime.

"Hello," Regina said quietly into the phone, keeping an ear open for Henry.

"You okay?" August asked straight away. "You two usually call on Sundays."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interfere with any of your plans," Regina rushed to apologize.

"You're not," he reassured.

"I realize it's late notice, but you're more than welcome to spend a few days with us for the holidays. I understand Ms. Lucas will also be in town." Her last statement should have very well been teasing, but it was more a mayoral proposition than good fun between two friends. If August heard the flat tone, he said nothing, struck by Regina's generosity.