"It was nice to see hot chocolate and pictures on my bed though," Emma commented. "You made Henry's elf costume?"

"He wasn't fond of standing still as I measured him. Speaking of, guess who made you a gift?"

"If it's not Storybrooke's Mayor, then I'm all out of guesses," Emma teased earning a throaty chuckle from the brunette. "Did he actually?"

"It's supposed to be a surprise."

"Save it for when I get back?" She hoped.

"Of course I will," Regina promised with determination. "Do you have time to speak with Henry?"

"I was banking on it."

Regina grinned and stood from the couch, keeping the phone cradled to her ear with a firm shoulder as if the act alone could bring Emma any closer. Finding her son in his playroom sitting around a miniature table with Junior, Mrs. and Sea Turtle as his companions, Regina cocked a head and called for his attention. He ran to her and she crouched down to his level, putting the phone on speaker and keeping her balance with a hand on Henry's back.

There was static on the line for a few seconds before the blonde's voice crackled through the phone. "Hey, kid."

"Emma!" Henry jumped up and down, clasping his hands around the cordless using it as his anchoring pole.

The bouncing moved Regina helter-skelter, so showing mercy to her knees, she sat cross-legged in the threshold of Henry's playroom and brought her excited son into her lap, holding the phone out in front of them.

"Emma, you here?!" He screamed into the phone.

The soldier chuckled, and Regina envisioned the blonde shaking her head and running lithe fingers through always-contained curls. "No, kid, I'm still at work."

Henry pouted. "Why? When you coming home? I made you a Christmas present."

"I heard," the blonde said impressed.

"It's a surprise," Henry said matter-of-fact.

"I can't wait to see it." Though Henry was satisfied with the answer, Regina could hear the shakiness in Emma's voice. It was longing and pain and happiness all mixed into one. She really couldn't wait to see Henry's gift.

"Un-ca August is coming over," Henry informed her.

"Is he?" Emma asked surprised.

"I invited him over for the holidays," Regina explained. "He'll be arriving in a couple days."

"Lucky. He gets to hang out with the coolest kid."

"Don't worry, soldier," Regina added quickly to evade the yearning that she could hear creeping into Emma's tone. "When you come home, Henry will be all over you and you may just forget about little old me."

Emma snorted, the teasing lifting her mood significantly. "Forget you? That's impossible."

Regina blushed prettily, hugging Henry to her chest as if that alone could ease the inflating feeling happening behind her rib cage. "Good," she said with a quiet contentment.

"Did Santa bring you and Mommy good stuff?"

They continued talking with Henry going so far as to grabbing the camcorder that his mother nearly gasped at him to handle with care to show, or listen rather, to Henry's Christmas concert where his class did a rendition of Must Be Santa. It took much to pry the three-year old away from the phone, but Regina managed to do it with the promise he would hear from Emma soon. With a sad goodbye from Emma's end and promising to take him ice skating and to build snow men and make snow angels, Henry relinquished the cordless and handed the device back to his mother where he galloped back to his table telling Rexy and Mrs. that Rex sends his love.

Regina retreated to her study once more sensing that her phone call with Emma would soon be coming to a close no matter how much she wished for time to stand still. She settled back into the couch with the cordless pressed to her ear once more and sighed.

"How have you been?" Emma asked.

Regina let her head rest against the back of the couch and nodded minutely. "Honestly? I've been going crazy wondering if I've pushed you away, and then the scenarios my mind came up with–I very much appreciate your phone call."

Emma chuckled, and there was an almost proud and pleased tone about it. "Does that simplify to mean you miss me?"

"So much."

It was Emma's turn to blush this time, and Regina only knew it was such by the strategic clearing of her throat that Emma did to hide the fact that even a million miles away Regina was able to make the hardened soldier's stomach flutter. Finally, the coughing ceased and Emma spoke. "I miss you too."

"Are you–?" Regina cleared her throat attempting to get the words out. Back in her adolescence she once wore her heart on her sleeve, but now she had a hard time letting her mouth say what her heart wanted for fear of the answer. "Are you still upset with me?"

The soldier released an amused chuckle but quickly reassured the brunette. "We're okay."

"We still need to talk."

"Just talk?"

Regina rolled her eyes hearing the implication behind Emma's words. If the blonde was right there in front of her, no doubt she would pull out the waggling eyebrows and the knowing smirk. Regina grinned nonetheless at the mental image and rolled a coy shoulder. "I'm sure there are much more amusing things we could do," she purred before sobering immediately. "But, yes. We do need to talk."

"Okay," Emma agreed readily. "But after that. . ."

Regina laughed out loud, and though she knew she shouldn't continue to play the none-too-innocent vixen, the memory of Emma pressed against her had happened far too long ago and their cat-and-mouse teasing was just too delicious after months of separation. "I'm all yours," she agreed almost breathlessly, and it took half a minute for either woman to register the words and implications Regina just presented.

"Me too," Emma said firmly and with every bit of sincerity she could muster. "Hey, can you do me a favour?" She asked quietly, suddenly cautious of the volume of her voice.

"Of course."

"If anyone asks, Henry's my godson, right?"

Regina squinted and looked at her phone, wondering if she had misheard, but the static on the line was blessedly minuscule. The gears in her brain turned, and through the line Regina could detect just the barest hints of fear in Emma's otherwise jovial voice. "Of course he is," she answered easily. "Why do you think he already calls August Uncle yet you by your name?"

A breath of relief released from Emma before she chuckled. "Because he already has a blatant disrespect for me?"

"Quite the opposite, in fact." Furrowing her brow, Regina questioned more intently. "Emma, is someone bothering you?"

There was half a second of silence that was interrupted by the imminent static on the line, but the blonde spoke, cutting it off. "It's just–it's nothing I can't handle, I swear."

Regina bit her lip, not necessarily believing Emma but trusting her nonetheless. What other choice did she have really? "How much longer will you be gone?"

"Probably a few months."

She scowled audibly.

"Hey." Emma interrupted the complaint that was sure to leave red-stained lips. "I'll be back before you know it."


December 30, 2004 – Storybrooke, Maine



Regina grunted as she somehow managed to push open the door of the mansion with the weight of a very muscular August Booth leaning against her side, his arm strung around her shoulders for support. Carrying a wounded soldier while her son sobbed behind them as he brought up the rear, his skates dragging in a tangled knot behind him, was not something she had planned for when she, Henry, and August had left that morning so Henry could show Uncle August how he could go really, really, really, really fast on ice skates. Apparently not that fast unless he was losing his balance and colliding right into August's prosthetic.

Regina was impressed with herself that she had managed to bear the brunt of August's weight from the rink to her car and from her car to the mansion. Call it adrenaline or perhaps those yoga tapes she had an affinity to watching when Henry was knocked out for the night actually came in handy, but whatever it was, Regina managed to carry him into the foyer.

August growled in his attempt to suppress any and all pained sounds, but they escaped in his hissed breathing, in the flare of his nostrils, and in his talon-like grip on Regina's shoulder.

"Gently," Regina soothed as she slowly removed his arm from her shoulder to lead him to the first few steps. August didn't listen and grunted as he fell in a heap of limbs onto the ground, his growling more insistent as he somehow managed to shimmy his way onto a sitting position at the top of the step. "I said gently," Regina reprimanded before turning to scoop a still whimpering Henry into her arms, but the boy resisted as he stood in the middle of the dipped foyer, his training skates left discarded by his side, and his hands lying limply at his waist as he just continued to cry and look solemnly at Uncle August.

After a few deep breaths and physically lifting up his prosthetic leg to stretch it out, August's breathing evened out giving Henry a half-hearted smile. "You can skate really, really fast."

Shamed, Henry clung to the back of Regina's leg and wiped his wet face and runny nose against the cotton. In all his winter clothing, he looked like a crying blue marshmallow as he shook from fear. "I, I–I'm sooorry!"

August reached out a hand, and with much persuasion from both adults, Henry ran from his hiding spot and into August's arms where his crying became more pronounced, and from the sounds of his snotty sniffling, more wet. "It's not your fault, kid. My hard drive was acting up anyway when you fell into me."