A Christmasbrooke Tale

Twelve Hours Until Christmas

"Mom," Henry smiles brighter than all of Snow's lights smothering their quaint town as she enters Granny's diner.

"Hi honey," she breathes out her relief and cups his warm cheek, her thumb slowly skimming his flesh to express her love.

"Emma said you were thinking about coming to the party tonight?" His curious eyes suddenly change tactic and flicker to amusement. "I think you really should. I want you to be there."

Her son wants her there and that affirmation is more than she could have ever hoped for. "Well, then I wouldn't miss it for anything in this world," she vows through a smile that actually causes pain in her cheeks.

"Did I hear you are coming tonight?" Snow rudely interrupts with a screaming newborn pressed firmly up against her chest. "That's wonderful, Regina, truly, just spectacular."

"Pump the brakes, princess. I'm only coming for my son," she reiterates while slipping her arm around his shoulders and pulling him closer into her embrace.

"Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night, Your Majesty." The former princess mocks right back in her face with a smug expression that Regina hasn't seen in quite sometime since the cursed memories of Mary Margaret invaded her brain.

"I sleep just fine at night," she snips, causing her son and his grandmother both to roll their eyes in unison.

"Anyways, the party starts at seven," Snow informs her over her son's insistent wailing. "Don't be late," she harshly commands.

"Am I ever?" She sternly inquires, but Snow just glares at her with this annoyed, dumb look upon her face. Regina rolls her eyes in return and tries to ignore the screeching from young Neal. "Would you like me to bring a dish?"

"That would be nice. Thank you," Snow kindly replies as she begins bouncing up and down to soothe her child. "We should be going, so much to plan for this evening!"

"Mom? Do you want to come with us to help plan and decorate?" Henry sweetly offers, but a day with Snow and a screaming infant just sounds insufferable when she can be going over the storybook, once more.

"I will catch up with you later, honey, I am going to stop by the office."

"But it's Christmas Eve," he whines with his pleading puppy dog eyes that always melt her heart in an instant.

"I know, honey, but isn't Emma working as well today? This town doesn't run by itself," she teases while caressing his pointed little chin that reminds her so much of his blonde mother today, for some odd reason. She shrugs off the familiar feeling warming up her cold bones and kisses her son's cheek lightly. "I will see you later."

"Alright," he shrugs and turns around to retrieve a traveler's mug behind the counter, resembling the one Emma purchased for her yesterday. "Here," he offers the cup and smiles mischievously.

Regina furrows her brows as she accepts the cup, inspecting the item as though it maybe poisoned. That's when she notices long strokes of black marker, decorated with swirling letters, painting the phrase Merry Christmas, across the paper cup.

"Awww, thank you, Henry," she excitedly coos, but he's already walking out the door, snickering under his breath.

The rich aroma of strong coffee wafts through the air and tickles her senses, black coffee, just how she likes it. She turns and heads for the door, no longer needing to place an order and exits the small diner. Just from the small interaction with her son, she feels lighter on her feet as she sashays toward her office.

Maybe she can forget about Robin and enjoy her son's company this Christmas?

"Ooofff!"

Golden strands are smothering her face while a burst of coffee invades her nostrils, with a hint of vanilla swirling in the air as well. That's when she registers the burning hot sensation clawing at her hand and legs.