A/N: I'm a sucker for holiday trope-y fluff, and this idea came to me a few weeks ago, so to procrastinate grading student final papers, I started writing instead. Originally it was going to be a one shot but it's a little longer than I expected and since I'm not quite finished editing the ending and wanted to get it posted today, I broke it into two sections. Part II will be up tomorrow. Enjoy, and happy holidays!

(Cover icon by spiralofcolors on Twitter).

Friday, December 14, 11:30am.

Her green eyes narrow as she appraises herself in the dressing room mirror. "Ruby," she says, annoyance present in her tone, "I cannot believe I let you talk me into this."

"Oh please, Em, you look adorable," the other woman says as she walks out into the main area of the abandoned storefront that is serving as their home base for the season. Ruby's long legs disappear underneath a short red skirt trimmed with white faux fur, and her red jacket is cropped just enough to show a small strip of pale skin when she raises her arms above her head.

"Damn, Ruby, you look great, but isn't that a little, um…slutty?"

She shrugs. "I didn't pick it out," she notes. "Besides, it's for the dads who are forced to come to these things."

"It's humiliating," Emma adds, stepping her feet into the shoes they gave her.

Ruby fails to hold back a chuckle as Emma struggles to take a few steps in the wooden clogs. "Do you want the extra money so we can get Coachella passes or not?"

"Yeah, fine," Emma mumbles, as she takes one last look in the mirror, adjusting the red and green striped tights on her legs and combing her fingers through her hair before placing the green hat on her head. "Jesus Christ," she says as she gets a look at her costume in its entirety.

"That's the spirit!" Ruby laughs as she grabs for Emma's hand to lead her out into the mall. "You're the cutest elf ever."

"I never should have let you talk me into this…you owe me," Emma mutters.

*.*.*

"Come on Henry," Regina says, ushering him into the line that winds around the center court of the mall. "We need to get out of here in time to drop you off at your dad's and so I can get to Westbrook by 7, and it's…" she pauses to push up the sleeve of her coat, "…it's already 4:30. I cannot be late to dinner with my parents again. I'll never hear the end of it."

"Grandma needs to take a chill pill."

Regina bites back a smile, trying to appear stern, but she concedes. "Yes, she does… Now, did you remember your list?"

"Of course," he smiles up at her as he pulls the small slip of paper from his pocket. "Nintendo Switch Super Smash Brothers Ultimate, new art supplies, a snowboard…" he continues to read from his list, and Regina can't help but laugh when he finishes with a very pointed "and no new clothes."

"That's quite a list, Henry," she comments.

"I know, but I figured it's better to give him a long list in case he can't find some of the items. I want to give him plenty of options to make his job a little easier."

"How very thoughtful of you," she deadpans, checking her watch again to keep an eye on the time. They're getting closer to the front of the line, but she'll still be cutting it close, especially with after-work Christmas traffic. She's had the week from hell at work and the last thing she wants is another Cora Mills lecture about how she can't even manage to get to a standing weekly dinner on time.

While Cora had never been very supportive of Regina's relationship with Robin Locksley, since their divorce two years ago, all Cora can do is find ways to remind Regina of her shortcomings as a single, working mother. In Cora's mind, Regina hasn't been prioritizing herself enough, lamenting the fact that Regina hasn't been on a single date since she and Robin separated nearly three years ago, while Robin had no problem moving on to his new wife and has started building himself a new family. "You're not getting any younger, dear…Robin went for a younger woman…your options are dwindling as we speak," her mother would remind her constantly.

"Mom," Henry says, pulling Regina from her thoughts. "We're next."

*.*.*

"Merry Christmas!" Emma calls as she hands the Polaroid to the couple standing next to her as they wait for their young daughter to get her candy cane from one of the other elves. The young girl's beaming smile at Santa had been a welcome change from most of the guests earlier in the afternoon — most had been very young and terrified of the strange man in the red suit. While Emma was great with children one-on-one, she didn't know the first thing about getting a screaming toddler to smile for the camera. The parents hadn't been much help and were often even more frustrating, demanding that Emma give them their money back if their child was crying in the picture. In the first four hours of her shift alone, parents had demanded to speak to her manager twice. Fortunately, Graham had been supportive of her, telling her that parents can be assholes around the holidays and to just point to the sign next to her camera tripod that reads, "No Refunds. No Exceptions."

"Next!" Ruby's voice shouts from her place next to David, the guy playing Santa as a way to make some extra money for his own child's Christmas gifts. As predicted, Ruby's sexy Mrs. Claus ensemble had proven to be quite the hit, particularly among young fathers, much to the chagrin of many of the mothers. Over lunch, Ruby had proudly told Emma that she had already received five complaints from women who had demanded they hire someone older to play Santa's wife. She had also been slipped a phone number from a couple looking for a third person for some "Holiday Fun."

As Emma prepares her camera for the next guest, she watches as a young boy with a slightly shaggy haircut takes his place on Santa's lap. She's relieved that he's older, which means he clearly won't be a crier, and she breathes a sigh of relief that maybe the last few hours of her shift won't be as brutal as the first…maybe the after-school hours will bring in the older kids. "That will be twenty dollars," she says as she sees the boy's mother approach her out of the corner of her eye.

"Here you go," the woman says, the sultry timbre of her voice causing Emma to turn and finally get a look at the woman.

She forces herself to keep her mouth closed when she takes in the stunning brunette. The woman's black wool peacoat is unbuttoned, revealing a burgundy silk blouse underneath, one that borders on being dangerously low-cut. She thinks she can see a hint of black lace peeking out from beneath the deep-vee, but she doesn't want to stare to confirm her suspicions.

"Thank you," she says, running the credit card through the card reader on her iPad. "Sign here, and then enter your email address and it will automatically send you a digital copy of the photo, in addition to the Polaroid you'll get when he's done." She hands the device to the brunette woman, hoping she doesn't blush when their hands briefly brush against one another in the exchange.

Emma watches as the woman uses her delicate finger to complete the transaction on the screen, her dark hair that's just shy of her shoulders falling in front of her eyes as she looks down at the device. It takes all of Emma's willpower not to reach out and brush the stray hair behind her ears. As she takes a breath to snap herself out of her infatuation, she can't help but notice that the woman smells like cinnamon, with a faint note of apples and vanilla. The woman literally smells like Christmas, and Emma can't help but think how she wishes she could unwrap her like a gift on Christmas morning.

"There you go," the woman says, jarring Emma from her less-than-appropriate thoughts.

"Oh, thank you," she replies, trying to hide her fluster. "What is your son's name?"

"Henry," the woman answers.

Emma smiles as she turns her attention back to the boy — Henry, as she now knows his name to be— who is wrapping up his conversation with Santa. "Alright, Henry, look this way and smile for me, please," she says, stepping behind the camera, counting to three, and taking a few pictures. "Alright, perfect!" she comments as she quickly looks through them, making sure they came out clear. She selects the best one and quickly prints a copy, handing it to the boy's mother. "Here you go. You should also already have an email with the copies as well. Merry Christmas."

"Thank you," the brunette woman says, wrapping her arm around her son's shoulder and taking the picture from the blonde elf.

Emma could swear that the woman quickly ran her eyes down her body, and when the brunette comments "nice shoes," before walking away, Emma knows it wasn't just wishful thinking that the brunette may have been checking her out.

"Ready?"

"What?" Emma breaks her gaze from the woman walking back into the crowds of the mall and over to Ruby, who is now standing beside her.

"We get a 10-minute break. Want to grab a quick bite? I've been craving a soft pretzel for the last hour."

"Oh, yeah. Let's go."

Ruby chuckles at her friend. "Are you pining after hot moms now?"

"I'm not pining," Emma rolls her eyes. "But she was hot."

"Too bad you'll never see her again."

*.*.*

"You're late," Cora says as she opens the front door and immediately turns to walk back through the house, leaving Regina to step across the threshold and close the door behind her.

"It's 7:02," she mumbles, removing her scarf and boots and setting them by the bench in the foyer before making her way into the dining room. Her father hands her a glass of scotch immediately as she steps into the room. "Thank you, Dad."

He winks as he mimes a cheers! motion with his own rocks glass and then pulls out one of the chairs at the table for her, gesturing for her to take a seat. "Eugenia will be out with dinner shortly," he says, sitting down across from his daughter rather than at the head of the table.

Cora joins moments later, taking advantage of Henry's choice to leave the end seat vacant and takes it for herself. "Thank you, Eugenia," she says politely to the housekeeper, who also serves as their Friday night cook, when the elderly woman places the final dish on the table.

"Enjoy," the woman says before hurrying back to the kitchen to clean up.

"So, Regina," her father starts, "How is work?"

She cuts into the pork chop and savors the flavor, chewing and swallowing before speaking. "It's been a rough week…insanely busy, but we're much closer to closing the deal on the Jefferson Hat Company contract, so that's a bit of a relief."

"Oh, that's wonderful to hear!" Henry says sincerely.

Cora lets out an audible sigh, and Regina braces herself for whatever is about to come. "Regina, dear," the older woman starts, looking up at her long enough to narrow her eyes before she takes a sip of her pinot noir. "You spend too much time working. Robin does well for himself, so you don't need to work so hard. That's what alimony and child support is for, darling."

Regina rolls her eyes as she prepares to reiterate the exact argument that she's had countless times with her mother. "We've been over this, Mother…I don't want to live off of my ex-husband's income. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of Henry and myself."

"Regina, dear—"

"No," Regina shakes her head before her mother can make her rebuttal. "Besides, I love my job. Even though it's hard and time-consuming, I love what I do. I'm not going to quit."

"Whatever you say, dear," Cora brushes her off.

It's nearly an hour later when Regina deadpans, "Well, this has been fun," wrapping her scarf around her neck as she prepares to leave. She had just bid her father farewell as he excused himself to go to his study for an international conference call with a business associate, so she is left alone with her mother.

"Yes, well, don't forget my company holiday party next Friday, Regina," Cora says. "And since you'll be coming alone, yet gain, there's no excuse not to be on time. There's no one to slow you down but yourself."

"Yes, Mother."

"And do try to dress well. Daniel Colter will be in town visiting his parents, and he's the last acceptable single son of all our friends. He may be your last chance."

Regina can barely hold back the eye roll as she opens the door. "Goodbye, Mother."

Sunday, December 16, 1pm

I'm in hell, Emma thinks as she prints out the next photo and hands it to the man standing next to her. He wears a wedding ring, but that hasn't stopped him from hitting on her incessantly while his young daughter talks with Santa.

"Uh huh," she mumbles when the guy boasts about something related to his success as a stockbroker. She couldn't be more relieved when the girl hops off Santa's lap and comes rushing back over to her father. Emma hastily hands over the photo and quickly turns away, calling "Next!" before the smarmy guy has a chance to even say goodbye. She catches Ruby's eye and the woman is grinning, clearly finding amusement in Emma's misery.

Emma does a double-take as she watches the boy from Friday night approach Santa's dais. She looks around for the boy's mother, but she's nowhere in sight. Instead, this time, Emma notices that the boy is not alone as he climbs the few steps to Santa's throne. A slim woman with caramel skin and long, dark hair follows him and stands off to the side, holding a small infant in her arms.

"Here you go," Emma hears an accented voice say, and she turns to the man who is now beside her and holding out a $20 bill. His hair is sandy brown, not unlike Henry's, and his blue eyes look at her expectantly.

"Thank you," she says, accepting the money and placing it securely in the cash box. She hands him the ipad to enter his email address as she makes sure the camera is ready. No more words are spoken as she watches the boy — Henry, she recalls — talk to Santa once again. She's disappointed that she doesn't get to see the stunning brunette again, but a part of her is also a little relieved that maybe the woman isn't married, given that Henry's father is clearly here with another woman and small child. God, Emma, you're a horrible human being, she scolds herself.

She quickly takes the photo of Henry, Santa, and the young baby who the woman had placed in Henry's arms just for the photo. She's relieved that the baby boy doesn't start to cry until after the picture has been taken. "Merry Christmas," she says, handing the photo to Henry's dad.

"Thank you," he says, barely looking at her as he gathers his family and ushers them back into the mall.

*.*.*

"Yes, Zelena, I'll see you then," Regina says into her phone as she looks over the menu board at the Gloria Jean's Coffee kiosk. She doesn't know why she's pretending that she's not going to get her guilty pleasure: the white chocolate caramel cookie chiller. She allows herself the treat only twice per year, on her birthday and in the midst of Christmas shopping. "Bye, sis," she says before hanging up. She places her phone back into her purse as she steps into the line, nearly crashing into someone as she does so. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she quickly says, holding her hand out to brace their impact. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

"Oh, it's fine—" the blonde says. "Oh, it's you!"

Regina looks at the women, who appears vaguely familiar, but she struggles to place her. Regina's confusion must be evident on her face, as the woman laughs when she says, "Picture me with a green hat and wooden shoes."

"Ah, yes," Regina smiles and nods, recognition finally sinking in as she takes in the woman's skinny jeans and plain white t-shirt. She gestures for the woman to step in front of her in line. "It's nice to see that elf costume isn't your permanent attire."

"Well, this is only temporary. I'll be back in the elf garb in about 20 minutes. I'm just on break and needed a pick-me-up. We're not allowed to wear the costume outside of the center court, or else we may ruin the illusion for the kids."

"Makes sense," Regina comments.

"What brings you back to the mall? Still have Christmas shopping left?" Emma asks her.

Regina is slightly thrown off by the small talk conversation, but they still have a few people in front of them in line, and she supposes it would be awkward to stand there for 10 minutes and not speak. "Yeah. I wanted to pick up a few more things for Henry while he's off with his dad for the weekend."

"Oh," Emma comments. "Well in that case, I should probably tell you that Henry is here. He just came through the Santa line again with his dad."

"Really?" Regina asks. "You're sure it's him?"

"Pretty sure…" the blonde says. "I mean, I see a lot of kids come through the line, but I'm pretty good with names and faces, and it's only been a few days since you guys were here…he was also with a baby boy and a woman…"

"That would be Roland and Marian. Yeah, that was definitely him, then. Okay," Regina sighs. "I had told his dad that I was going to get some shopping done today, but maybe he forgot. I really don't want Henry to see me here buying gifts that are supposed to be from Santa. He deserves to be able to believe for a few more years, you know?"

Emma nods in agreement before asking, "How old is he?"

"He turned nine in October…I know his friends are questioning it and many gave up their belief already, but he's such a good kid with a good heart. He truly believes and I don't want to ruin that for him," Regina says. "So, I guess I should be thanking you for saving me from a potentially awkward conversation with my own son."

"No problem," the woman responds.

"Let me buy you your coffee as a thank you."

"Oh, that's really not necessary."

"Please…." Regina says, trailing off. She realizes she has no idea what the elf's name is.

"Emma."

"Emma," she says. "I'm Regina," she extends her hand, which the blonde — Emma — shyly takes. She forces herself not to smile at the touch of their hands. "What will it be?"

"Oh, um, the ultimate chocolate chiller."

"Solid choice," Regina says approvingly. She places the order and quickly fires off a text to her ex-husband, telling him she's shopping and to keep Henry away from the west end of the mall so that she can pick up the last few items on her list. He's apologetic when he texts her back, writing that he had completely forgotten that she planned to get her Santa gifts that day.

"Well, I should get back to work…I don't want a revolt of youngsters. Thanks for the coffee," Emma says as she picks up her drink at the counter.

"You're very welcome, Emma. Perhaps I'll see you around."

Thursday, December 20, 9pm.

"Are you okay?" are the first words Regina hears when she walks into The Rabbit Hole on the Thursday before Christmas. Kathryn, her best friend of 14 years, asks her that question as she hands her a pint of Guinness and a shot of Baileys. It's been her comfort drink of choice since they became roommates their sophomore year of college. Kathryn had showed her that while an Irish Car Bomb was a good cocktail, the deconstructed version was even better.

"I'll be fine, Kathryn," Regina reassures her as she takes the shot and then takes a long sip of her beer as a chaser. "I just dropped him off, and it sucked, but I'm trying not to dwell on the fact that I won't get to see my kid for four days, and that it's the longest he's been away from me since the divorce."

"He'll be fine, Regina," Kathryn offers.

"Oh, I know he will be. He's excited because Marian's parents have a cabin in fucking Vermont and he'll get to learn how to cross-country ski. He's ecstatic," she pauses her lament to take another drink. "He's spent three day weekends at Robin's house before, so another day won't kill either of us, but this is the first time he's going out of state. It's weird shipping my kid off to people I don't even know."

"I hear you," Kathryn says, signaling the bartender for another round of drinks and placing an order for loaded fries.

"You know I'm not going to eat that," Regina says.

"Live a little…besides, you may need it to help absorb the amount of liquor you're going to be drinking, by the looks of it."

"I'm fine, but thanks for your concern," she replies.

*.*.*

"Emma, are you even listening to me?" Ruby asks as she throws an onion ring at her friend.

"What? Oh, yeah. Sorry," Emma apologizes.

"What has your attention?" Ruby asks, trying to follow Emma's line of sight.

"Nothing," the blonde answers quickly. "What were you saying?"

"Oh…." Ruby looks back at her and smiles. "Is that the hot mom from Santa's Village sitting at the bar?"

"Regina," Emma says.

"What? You know her name?"

Emma curses herself for letting that slip. "Yeah…" she finally admits. "I ran into her again last weekend while I was on break."

"What? Why didn't you tell me? What happened?"

"Nothing happened. And I didn't mention it because it's pointless. I just have a little Christmas crush. It's not a big deal."

"You should go talk to her," Ruby says as she takes her credit card and receipt out of the leather folder the waitress set on the table and puts it back into her wallet. "Go buy her a drink."

"Ruby, she's clearly here with someone," nodding in the direction of Regina and the other woman.

"Yeah, so? Maybe she's just a friend. And if not, then she clearly likes blondes, and you're much hotter than that girl."

"We can't even see the girl's face."

"Who cares? I can tell just from the back of her head. Plus, you're like a solid nine. The chances of that woman being a 10 are slim."

"Gee, thanks," Emma rolls her eyes. "But no, I'm not going to go interrupt her night out."

"Fine, I will then," Ruby says, getting up.

"Ruby, no!" Emma says, grabbing her friend's arm as she starts walking away from the table. "Please don't."

"Then go over there…you don't even need to talk to her directly. She's sitting at the bar so go stand next to her and order a drink. Be nonchalant, and then you can be all, 'Oh, hey, Regina right?' when she looks at you."

"Will it shut you up if I do this?"

"Yes."

"Okay, fine," Emma acquiesces, slipping her purse off the back of the chair and onto her shoulder, digging for her wallet so she can go buy a drink she doesn't even want. "I'll be right back."

"No you won't. Take your time. In fact, I'll call an Uber for myself since I think you'll be here awhile," Ruby grins.

Emma shakes her head as she turns to walk toward the bar, mumbling I can't believe I'm doing this, as she makes her approach.

*.*.*

"What can I get you, love?" the bartender asks.

"A rum and coke, please," Regina hears a woman reply from over her shoulder. She recognizes that voice.

She unintentionally tunes Kathryn out as she reflexively looks over to her left and sees the blonde from the mall handing the bartender a credit card. "Emma?" she asks after taking a beat to make note of the blonde's attire — tight black denim and an emerald green silk cami. She cleans up nice, Regina thinks.

"Oh, Regina," Emma replies, smiling and thanking the bartender as he hands her a glass and her card. "Hi."

"Imagine running into you here," Regina says. "Here by yourself?"

"Oh, no, my friend Ruby…" she says, gesturing toward a table in the back that is now empty. The blonde looks around in confusion as Regina follows her sightline until they both see a tall brunette waving from the door to the bar before leaving. "…just left, apparently."

Regina smirks. "Well, feel free to sit," she says, gesturing to the empty stool beside her.

"Thanks," Emma responds graciously.

Regina hears a throat clearing from her other side, jolting her back. "Oh, right. Sorry. Where are my manners," she quickly says. "Emma, this is my best friend Kathryn. Kathryn, this is Emma."

The two blondes smile and shake hands, reaching across the bar in front of Regina to do so.

"How do you know Regina?" Kathryn asks.

"Oh, I don't really. We met when she was taking Henry to see Santa. I'm one of the photographers there," she shrugs.

"And the pictures were great, by the way," Regina adds, delighting in the way Emma's cheeks turn a little pink at the compliment.

"Thank you," she says.

"Well, Regina, this has been great, but I have to work early. Not all of us get tomorrow off," Kathryn says, quickly finishing the last of her drink and throwing $50 on top of the bar to cover her tab. "I'll see you after Christmas. Good luck tomorrow night. And it was nice to meet you, Emma," she says.

"You, too," Emma replies as the other blonde rushes off, leaving Regina a little off-kilter at her friend's quick departure. "Are you heading out soon, too?" Emma asks her.

Regina glances at her watch, noting the time. "Not right away. Henry is gone for the weekend with my ex, and I don't work tomorrow, so I'm not on a curfew," she smiles.

"Well in that case, can I buy you a drink?"

"Sure," she smiles.

*.*.*

Emma cannot believe that this is the way her night is turning out. She originally wanted to murder Ruby for abandoning her, but now she feels the need to buy her a much nicer Christmas present than the rose gold martini shaker she has wrapped for the girl in her closet. She's not sure what's going to come of this impromptu evening with Regina, but she's enjoying it.

They're still sitting at the bar as Killian shouts out that it's last call, but they ignore him. They've already paid their tab, but are still slowly nursing what's left of their drinks. "So what is it that you do, exactly?" Emma asks Regina. They've talked about Henry, and their favorite Netflix series to binge watch, but otherwise Regina hasn't revealed much about herself. When Regina mentions that she and Henry are heading to New York after Christmas as part of a business trip, Emma can't help but ask.

"Oh," Regina says, setting down her glass. "I work for Mifflin's, the department store," she explains. "I'm a business and purchasing analyst and designer headhunter of sorts, so I work with designers and brands on contracts to have them sell in our stores."

"Oh, that sounds interesting," Emma comments sincerely.

"It is. I love it. I've always loved fashion and business, so it was a nice way to blend the two together. Plus, it's a job that can be done remotely for the most part, so I can live here and only need the occasional trip to our headquarters in New York."

"Have you always lived in Storybrooke?"

"Born and raised. I went away for college in New York, and lived there for a few years while getting my start in the industry, but after getting married and having Henry, I wanted to be closer to family. Plus, Robin had a job offer up here, so it just made sense to move back since I could work from anywhere. I decided to stay in town, even after he and I split up. It's been nice, but sometimes it's a little too close to my mother. They moved a few towns over a few years ago, but they're still quite close by."

"What's she like?"

"She's hard to describe…" Regina says. She attempts to explain her mother's overbearing need for power, yet also outdated views that if Regina is unmarried and has to work to support herself, she's somehow a failure. "She's essentially the figurehead for her company…a legacy born into the family business that doesn't require much actual work on her part. She's not happy that I didn't follow in her footsteps. But my older sister already was, and I had no interest."

"She sounds like a piece of work," Emma comments.

"Oh she is. You'd have to meet her to really get it," Regina says, a smile suddenly crossing her face. "Hey, what are you doing tomorrow night?"

That catches her off-guard. "Oh, um, nothing?"

"Good," Regina smiles. "You should come with me to my mother's holiday party tomorrow."

"Wait, what?" Emma asks. While she would love to go out with Regina again, this doesn't sound like the way to do it.

"She's trying to set me up with some dude I can't stand from high school, and she whines that I've never had a date to the party since my divorce. Be my fake date for the night." Before she can think better of it, she grabs a cardboard coaster from the bar and flips it over to the blank side, writing down an address and dropping it in Emma's purse. "It starts at 7:30. Don't be late. You need to make a good impression on my mother, and she despises tardiness. And wear a dress. It's black-tie optional."

With that, the brunette slides off her bar stool and walks away, leaving a dumbfounded Emma wondering what the hell just happened.

A/N: Tomorrow we'll find out what happens at Cora's holiday party. (And don't worry, this is not a "Regina-thinks-she's-straight fic"...while I love those and write them often, that is one trope that I won't be including in here.)