The apartment door slams into the frame with a ricocheting bang, drowning out the sound of the blonde's sigh as she tosses her keys onto a nearby surface and steps out of her boots. She rakes a hand through her locks as she stifles a yawn, switching on the light while hoping Henry is home. Lately he's been absent from their tiny home more days than not, and she finds it hard to deal with. It's really much too quiet by herself, and she absently wonders what she'll do when high-school graduate Henry finds a college he actually wants to attend. However, that's in the future, and Emma reminds herself not to dwell on it; she grows annoyed with melancholy thoughts.

She rounds the corner to find her son bent in half rummaging through the fridge's contents, and a smile grows on her lips. She slows and softens her pace, expertly sneaking up on him--her line of work giving her all sorts of practice--and she waits until she's inches away from him before she makes her move.

"HEY!"

Henry's back instantly twitches upwards, smacking his head against the top of the refrigerator shelf. He inches out of the containment, rubbing the wound as he slowly straightens. "Christ, Ma!"

Emma just gives him a cheeky grin, watching him show his full height with a slight pang. Over the recent years, he'd grown ridiculously, so much so that he nearly towers over her now--a fact he loves to remind her of. He'd filled out too; enough muscles line his arms and torso to make Emma slightly regret teasing him when he'd started going to the gym with his friends. "Just happy to see you home."

"Happy, huh?" He gripes, faux-bitterness laced into his deep voice. "Where were you, anyway? I thought it was your day off."

"Oh, I left this thing at the hospital. I went to pick it up," she explains, gesturing carelessly to the red leather covering her upper-half.

Henry gives her an unconvinced once-over. "You forgot that jacket at the hospital? You won't let the damn thing out of your sight--nope, had to be a hot guy involved." He solves, crossing his arms with pride. Then as an afterthought, he adds, "Or girl."

"What?!" Emma squawks, ready to go full-force into denial, but at Henry's eyebrow raise she caves. "Fine. There was. God, I hate that you know me so well."

Henry openly smirks, sinking his teeth into his freshly opened banana with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle. "Details, now."

Emma groans, fishing in the fridge for a beer. She notices that one is missing from the previously new package sitting on the shelf, and she whips around towards her son. "Henry!"

"What?" He demands with innocent wide eyes, but when he sees the beer in his mother's hand his lips spread into a nervous, sheepish grin. "Uh.."

"Yeah, mister, you better have a flawless explanation for this."

"It wasn't me!--it was.....your boyfriend. Oh wait, you don't have one." He teases through a contagious laugh that Emma can't help but join in on. She despises that she can't stay angry at Henry for long. Still, she gives him a smack that doesn't faze him in the slightest.

"Oh, you little shit! You're awful!"

"And proud. Ma, you still didn't tell me who this Hospital Hunk is." Henry side-tracks, obviously proud of the nickname he'd come up with. He takes another large bite out of the fruit, watching Emma dramatically roll her eyes.

"Don't call her that." She complains, settling down on the couch. Henry joins her with a drink of his own (a cautious Pepsi this time) and continues to tease her.

"Oh, it's a her! This oughtta be good."

"Oh, shut up. And fine, she's the receptionist there, and I felt like we just had this chemistry. Is that crazy?" She backpedals a bit, seeking dating guidance from her son, which is weird in and of itself, but somehow it feels acceptable.

Henry grows serious, for once. "I don't know, not really...I mean do you believe in all that 'love at first sight' shit?"

"I didn't say love, I said chemistry."

"Well, attraction is obvious. Don't think I didn't notice you're wearing more makeup than usual. But yeah, I mean if you think there's a possibility there, I'd definitely go for it. So, are you going to ask her out?"

"I already did," Emma admits, trying not to panic at her son's shocked expression.

"Already?"

"God, stop making me feel like I did the wrong thing!" Emma exclaims, taking a long swig from her bottle before justifying herself. "I didn't know when I was going to see her again; I'm not about to break my arm for an excuse."

"You've got a point there," Henry allows, sending an affectionate fist towards her bicep. "Did she accept?"

"She was sort of freaked out, I guess, but she seemed like she was into it. I gave her my number though, and told her to call me later if she wants to make it a date." As soon as Emma finishes speaking, her phone loudly plays the Darth Vader theme. Emma turns to her son, slack jawed. "Did you mess with my ring tone, again?!"

Henry shrugs, taking a sip of his soda. "Excuse me if I don't want to hear Taylor Swift every time you get a call."

"She's a legend!" Emma hisses, before accepting the call, not noticing that it's from an unknown number.

"It's Regina. So, about that dinner? I'd like to cash in that story about how you managed to twist your ankle." A low, undoubtedly sexy voice floats from the other line, and Emma sucks in a breath before laughing.

Henry sends her a questioning look, but Emma makes wild gesturing for him to be quiet before answering. "That sounds great."

---

Regina hesitates for the third time, arm outstretched towards the restaurant's door handle. It's now exactly four days later after their first meeting, as they'd decided to wait until the weekend to have dinner, which should have given Regina plenty of time to mentally and physically prepare. But now, minutes away from seeing the very blonde who she's desperately trying to bring back home, in the fifth tried-on dress option of the night, she doesn't feel ready at all.

But, the one thing that Regina has never been known for is being late, and she fully intends to keep up her punctuality, even if it is for a nerve-wracking date. This evening is really going to test her skills, as she has to fully pretend that she doesn't know a thing about the blonde; has to start completely from scratch, with not one slip-up. Regina could pat herself on the back any day for her people skills, but this is completely different, especially when Emma somehow sees her as a romantic partner. Regina could kick herself for getting herself into this impossible situation in the first place, but when she reminds herself of what it is exactly she's fighting for, she's able to square her shoulders and swing open the heavy door with a sure and steady arm. The click of her spiked heels against the expensively paved flooring signals her presence, and the greeter at the front of the place gives her a smile.

Regina cuts off the welcoming speech that's sure to come with a politician smile of her own. "Regina Mills, I'm with Emma Swan? Party of two?" She tries not to notice her choice of wording. With Emma Swan.

"Oh, of course! Right this way." The younger girl gives her a short nod and a preppy wink that Regina doesn't understand, before she much too quickly maneuvers the brunette across the restaurant. Regina struggles to keep up in her four-inch heels, and along with her nerves, her heart pounds with annoyance. When they at least reach their destination, Regina directs all her focus onto the blonde sitting on the opposite side of a small, round table for two. Regina spreads her lips apart into what she hopes is a convincing smile, and carefully sits down before taking in the other woman's appearance.

Emma, or at least this version of the younger woman, surprises the brunette with her ability to clean up rather well. Although Emma hadn't gone into overkill with a fancy updo and lace, her hair has been freshly coiled and she's wearing a spaghetti strapped royal blue silky dress. Regina can't determine the length from where she's seated, but she finds it extremely tasteful on the blonde. Enticing thin pink lips treat her to an angelic smile.

"I'm glad you could make it." Emma greets with an overwhelming sense of kindness that Regina almost finds unsettling due to its unfamiliarity.

Not sure how to respond, Regina just gives her a nod and busies her hands with the menu. It doesn't matter though, because Emma's talking again.

"You look amazing," Emma compliments rather boldly, and Regina is counting on the candlelight to not show her coloration.

"Why, thank you, Emma. I could say the same," Regina replies in the most professional way she can, but is rather surprised by the sincerity in her tone. She clears her throat and looks up at the server whom she'd forgotten is still standing there. "I'll take a red wine to start,"

Emma casts a glance towards the server with a cheeky grin. "I shouldn't, but I'll take the same." The girl nods quickly and scampers away, and Regina fixes the blonde with a quizzical look.

"Shouldn't?" She questions.

"Oh, Henry usually has a fit when I drink alcohol 'too late,' Not sure what the hell that means," she answers jokingly, before realizing what she'd said, and her face clouds over.

The mention of her son skyrockets Regina's relaxed pulse, and she can swear she feels her heart in her throat. "Henry?" She whispers.

"I'm sorry," Emma apologizes sincerely, nervously twisting one of her curls around her finger. "This was really inconsiderate of me, but I forgot to mention that I have a son. Is that a deal breaker? Cause I totally get that," she backpedals, blushing through their eye contact that she struggles to keep.

Regina finds herself shaking her head, causing her dark, thick hair to whip about her. "No, no--it's quite alright." She rasps, then clears her throat. Just then, the wine comes, and Regina takes a grateful sip. Hiding behind her glass, she attempts to collect her racing thoughts and put her mind back on track--talking about Henry is dangerous territory. However, it would be decidedly suspicious of her to change the topic, so she waits to see what the other woman will do.

"Really? That's a relief. Do you have any kids of your own?" Emma questions, swirling her glass with curious raised eyebrows.

This was a worse question than Regina could have feared, and once more her heart leaps to her mouth and she racks her brain for answer. "I...had a son once." She regrets the words as soon as they'd leapt from her mouth, and she disappears behind her wine.

"Had?" Emma prompts softly, concern settling into the planes of her face.

"I had to give him up." She says shortly, not caring how the blonde chooses to interpret it. She needs to figure out a way to close up this conversation before she blows any more of this operation. She briefly concerns over what she'll do when, if she actually does see Henry--and how in the world will she be able to hide her affection.

Thankfully, Emma picks up on Regina's discomfort and gives her an easy, close-lipped smile. "I understand. Well, what do you think you're gonna get from this mile-long menu? I'm starved," Emma changes the topic as easily as a river cascading over a rock in its path, and Regina marvels at the ease, wondering where her own suave has run off to. She has a sneaking suspicion it left the moment Emma showed up at her receptionist desk.

"I couldn't say," Regina replies while scanning over her menu, extremely relieved in the change of topic. "Why don't we start with breadsticks with a side of small talk? I'd love to get to know you, Emma Swan."

AN: don't kill me for ending here--the date will certainly continue over into the next chapter. Just wanted to get something up for you all to apologize for the longer wait.

Although, due to the holidays, I imagine I'll have much more time to write. Tis the season for updating!!

Vote and comment if you don't mind:)