Coffee To Go: Chapter Thirty

I don't own Once Upon A Time.

Please enjoy.

I was tentatively happy. Everything was going fine. Actually, that's not true. Everything was fantastic…except for Regina and me. There I felt like I was in the middle of one of those ridiculous rope bridges in action movies and any moment would lead to the rope unwinding – but I'm the character so maybe it's already happening and I just can't see it – and snapping and making me fall to certain death. That tremulous flutter in my stomach, the hesitation before each touch, combined with the way we almost with fearful strength wanted one another to stay, made my happiness tentative. Everything was fine with us. Not great. Not stupendous. Not yet solid. And I think I knew the reason.

I was scared.

I felt badly about it – I'd forgiven Regina, I had honestly, but forgiveness and trust were two very different things and it wasn't just that my defences had slammed back into place. It was that I didn't trust myself. I could mess up. I could mess up bad. I could do something stupid again – like, oh I don't know, confront Cora about her ill treatment of her daughter – and that shit storm could happen all over again. It wouldn't. I know it wouldn't. I wasn't in the business of talking to tyrannical mothers. But I was still scared.

That saying…what was it? Once burned, twice shy? Yeah. Try once burned, fourteen shy. I found myself biting my tongue, not telling her when I was in pain or nervous or tired or anything negative. Piling negative feelings on top of uncertainty wasn't a good idea, right?

That was half of it. The other half was that Regina was scared and doing exactly what I was doing. I'm not an idiot. I could see that she was tiptoeing around me and smiling when she didn't want to smile and deflecting questions that she didn't want to answer. Questions like "You okay?" and "What's wrong?". Sure, she said yes and she said "oh I'm just thinking about the permits needed for Miners Day" but she didn't mean that. Or maybe she didn't even realise that every now and then she would drift away and her lips would turn down just the tiniest bit and she would press her hand to her stomach like she was defending herself and it was in those moments that I wished I wasn't afraid to push, afraid to ask. Because she needed someone. She needed me, I had to remind myself. She needed me and she was afraid to ask as much as I was afraid to offer – because, I tried to tell myself, what if she had a really good reason not to tell me, what if it wasn't that she was scared, what if I was just reading too much into this? And it just wasn't working. We weren't working.

And that was how I found myself drowning my sorrows in a hot mug of cocoa, Henry by my side. We were sitting on the barstool along the counter. My legs wrapped around the base of the chair; his, I saw with a grin, were swinging and nowhere near touching the floor. Such a tiny cute thing and I could hardly dare believe that he had come from me. He wiped his face with his napkin and smiled happily at Ruby, who was loitering as the diner was basically empty. Then he mimicked the way I dragged my finger through the whipped cream Ruby had kindly topped the drink with and licked it off.

"Sup, kid?" Ruby asked.

Henry tilted his head, considering the question. "I'm near six!" he said, shaking with excitement.

Ruby grinned. I hid my smile. Birthdays were serious business. "Really?" My kid nodded enthusiastically and she encouraged him to keep talking a little. "When's the big day?"

"Sunday!" He wriggled a little more and I shot out a protective hand to move his mug. It was approaching the edge of the counter and I didn't want it to spill over him. He smiled up at me and I pressed a kiss to his forehead. It made him beam at me. "Hi," he said, leaning into me fearlessly despite the gap between us. He knew I'd catch him.

"Hi," I said back to him.

"And what, am I invisible?" came another voice and thank god I had moved the mug because in the next second Henry had spun and been swooped up into the arms of his uncle.

"Hi!" Henry shrieked. Graham had been gone since early that morning, driving to Boston to get some supreme party supplies, and Henry had missed saying goodbye. He'd sulked for half the day until I called Graham and let them talk. "Hi hi hi hi hi!"

"You ready, kid?" Graham asked, slinging him over his shoulder.

"Careful. He's had a bit of sugar already." I smiled sweetly when Graham glared. "What? It wasn't me." I jerked a thumb at Ruby. "She still gives in to his puppy dog eyes." We both looked over to see that Ruby was adding another swirl of whipped cream to Henry's cocoa and she stopped, abashed.

"I'm sorry," she whined. "He's just so cute and I don't know how he does it but I just keep giving in." I patted her arm reassuringly. "No more cream for you, Mister Swan." Henry pouted and Ruby's arm flung out to the cream dispenser, adding a touch more to his cocoa.

"Weak," I cajoled.

"Super weak," Graham agreed. "You lasted like two seconds."

"If that. Was that even two seconds?" I asked him with a shake of my head. "I don't think so."

"I don't have to take this sh-sugar," she corrected herself, seeing Henry listening intently, "from you guys. You spoil him too!" She grabbed her jacket. "I'm out of here."

"Hi, Ruby!" Belle greeted, stepping into the diner from the cold. Ruby melted on the spot.

"I'm staying," she murmured to me. Jacket fell forgotten to the floor.

"We're going," Graham said in response to that, trying not to laugh at our smitten friend. "We'll be good and safe and home at a reasonable hour. Right, kid?" Graham asked, tickling Henry's stomach.

"Yes!" the kid confirmed. A firm nod doubled that confirmation and I stood.

"Be good for your uncle," I told Henry out aloud. And then, leaning in with a wicked grin, I told my son, "Give him hell," and a wink that made Henry giggle. I pressed another kiss to his temple…and then one to his forehead…and then a whole bunch to his cheeks because he was complaining loudly and bitterly by that point and it is a mother's prerogative to torture her children with affection. "Have fun," I said, watching my boys leave.

"Where are they going?" Ruby asked, dropped her chin onto my shoulder. She hugged me, looping her arms affectionately around my waist. I patted her hands.

"To the comic book store. Graham wants to know what Henry wants for his birthday." Ruby nodded.

"You're really good with him. You know that?" I raised my eyebrows and felt her shrug. "I know he's your kid but still. It can't have been easy doing it alone. But that kid," she sighed and shook her head. "Seriously, Em. He's so happy all the time." I felt warmth from that statement gently tickle at my heart and then fill it all at once, while I contemplated it.

"Thanks," I said quietly.

She squeezed me in our hug before dropping her arms and stepping away. "I think my girl is getting jealous," she teased. I looked over but Belle was flipping through one of her books and probably hadn't even seen us hugging. "I'm off now. Want to sit with us?" she offered.

I almost declined before I remembered that I wanted her help. That, and treating Henry to a drink, was the reason I had come here in the first place. "Yeah. I wanted to ask you something."

"Sure. Shoot."

I slid into the booth and promptly sprawled over the chair, making Ruby roll her eyes and nudge Belle, shifting her down the bench so they could sit side-by-side.

"Oh, hello Emma. Are you eating with us?" Belle fiddled with her cutlery and couldn't hide a little smile when I shook my head no.

"I just wanted to ask you guys something. I'm not going to interrupt your date." Ruby kicked my shin. I grabbed it and hurled the napkin dispenser at her.

Granny caught it.

I froze and she thumped it back down on the table, glaring at me. "This is not your house, deputy," she reminded me. "Don't make me throw you out. Clear?"

"Yes ma'am," I murmured, ducking my head.

A harrumph was my only answer. I knew she was gone when Ruby and Belle started chortling and only then did I dare raise my head to glare at Ruby.

"That was your fault," I hissed.

"Was not," she hissed back. "You threw it."

"You kicked me!"

"I don't care whose fault it was, I'll be knocking heads if it happens again," Granny said as she passed. Ruby and I both cowered this time. I was tempted to say again that it was Ruby's fault but I needed her help so I banked that complaint and moved on.

"It's about Regina," I began. They both nodded, exasperated. "What?"

"Well of course it's about Regina."

"Not a surprise," Ruby interjected.

"Something just isn't right," Belle continued. "You two are so on edge. It's quite strange to see."

"Cute as ever," Ruby cut in, "but totally out of whack."

"You think so?" I asked, frown heavily in place. "I didn't think it was that bad. I mean, I know something is wrong but I just…"

"You don't know if you can ask?" Belle offered, her expression calm and thoughtful. I nodded. "Well that's not a surprise. I'm sure that subconsciously you are nervous that if you rock the boat you'll go flying out."

"Yeah, that's not a subconscious thing," I confided. "It's pretty much all I can think about."

"There's your problem," Ruby said with a nod. "If all you do is worry, worry, worry, you don't have any time to have fun. And Regina is probably picking up on that and knowing that she's the reason that you're worried, which will worry her, but she can't talk to you about that because she doesn't want you to worry about her worrying."

I blinked, not following, but Belle apparently understood it because she nodded and gave Ruby a blinding smile. "Exactly. Well put, Ruby." Was it? I couldn't tell. I took her word for it. "Really, Emma, the only thing you can do in this scenario is talk to her."

"I was afraid you would say that," I groaned, lowering my head to the table.

"But you're going to do it anyway, aren't you?"

"Duh." I shrugged, hopeless. "I love her. I don't want to be walking around on eggshells for the rest of my life." The rest of my life. I hadn't even thought about that before but it sounded awfully good. The rest of my life. With Regina. I bit my lip. It was getting a bit ahead of where we were at – we hadn't even really discussed our future, it just felt like it was there stretching out before us…and, for me at least, they were suitably tightly intertwined – but I couldn't deny that I liked the idea.

I slapped the table lightly. "Thanks for your help, guys. I'll talk to you later." Standing, I made my way out of the diner. I strode out, all purpose and confidence. I had a woman to find. And I was going to make her talk.

Strangely enough, I found her at home. Her home, to be precise.

We hadn't planned on meeting so I hadn't known where to go and as creepy as it might sound, I didn't want to call her and give her warning to prepare that stunning and stunningly cold Mayor façade. I just wanted to talk to Regina. I checked her office first but when her secretary said that she had called in sick, I hightailed my way to her place and, finding her car in the drive, made my way inside.

"Regina?" I called. No answer. I took the stairs two at a time and tried again in the hall. "Regina?" There came a rustling from the door at the end of the hall. Her room. I knocked lightly and pushed the door open. "Regi—whoa." I stopped still, taking in the sight in front of me. "You, ah…huh," I concluded.

"Don't tease me," Regina said sadly, pouting. She was avoiding my eyes and I carefully made my way across the room.

"About this? Never. Well, maybe later," I confessed, loving the way her eyes flashed in a little glare before realising that it was me, of course this was something I would tease her about, of course this was the kind of thing we could laugh about. It was hard to remember that sometimes when you forgot you were allowed to laugh about things.

Her bed was the proud holder of a mountain of candy. I suspected that every piece of candy Regina had squirreled away in various boltholes around the house had been collected and emptied onto her bed. I'm talking chocolate, gummy lollies, liquorice, hard candy, and I thought I saw a packet of sherbet sticking out somewhere.

"So," I started. She munched down on a string of red liquorice and watched me carefully. "What's up? And please no denying it this time." She tore off a bite of the candy and sighed.

"I'm not upset," she denied. I rolled my eyes. "I'm not! This is a celebration. That my mother is gone. I couldn't be happier." Her voice sounded flat. Wrong. But at least I had gotten to the crux of the issue. Of course I'd suspected that this was about Cora, but she confirmed it.

I clambered onto the bed, crossed my legs, and grabbed a pillow to hug into my stomach. She handed me a packet of mnm's, which I ripped open and dipped into. We binged together in silence for a while, punctuated now and again by sighs, and it didn't feel much like a celebration.

"Your mother, huh?" She nodded. "And this," I waved to the pile of candy, "is a celebration." She nodded. A weak smile didn't do much to back that up. "Yeah I'm not buying that. Sorry. This is a pity party."

"Excuse me!" she accessed her normal stomach brimming with fire to spit that at me, bristling with offence. "I do not throw pity parties," Regina sneered.

"I think you do," I sing-songed. Then I watched, entertained, as she struggled between wanting to glower at me and wanting to laugh at me. Glowering won out in the end and she folded her arms over her chest. The effect was lessened somewhat by the string of liquorice flopping in her hand, but still I put on my serious face and made sure she knew I wasn't mocking her anymore. "Regina, it's okay to not be happy that your mother is gone."

"It is not okay. I should be thrilled that she's gone." Each of her sentences were accompanied by a bite to her candy. "I should be ecstatic that I kicked her narrow-minded, manipulative, heartless, egotistical self out of my town." She paused.

"But you aren't," I said.

She drew her knees up to her chest, dragging the blanket with them, and her hands sat under her chin to feed the liquorice childishly into her mouth. She looked so…vulnerable. Young. Uncertain.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. The apology made me blink and I rifled through the pile of goodies for a moment as distraction. It let me think about what she could mean.

"What do you mean?" I asked. I couldn't figure it out. I could see her toes wiggling under the blanket and I grabbed them. She growled and kicked out but I pinned them and shuffled closer and closer until I was sitting by them and patting her shin reassuringly. "Regina, come on. Talk to me."

"It's nothing," she tried to deny.

I bit my lip. "Okay. How about I start?" She looked up, confused. "We've been kind of…on edge, I guess?" Regina's head tilted to the side and then she nodded, just once, slowly. "I love you and I don't want anything to mess us up again but, Regina, we kind of aren't talking. At all. About anything more important than what movie we're going to watch because I'm afraid that if I push too hard to get you to open up, I'll just push you away."

"Not possible," she said quietly. "I'm sorry but you are quite stuck with me. For a very long time."

The little knot of tension in my shoulders released and I let out a breath I hadn't quite known I was holding. "Good. Then I guess I can push as much as I want." I flung myself forward and crawled up her body, pressing kisses to her shoulder and sternum and chin and nose and forehead. "Tell," kiss, "me," kiss, "what," kiss, "is," kiss, "wrong," kiss. "Please." And one last, lasting kiss to her lips. "Please?"

She smiled into us and nodded slowly. "I didn't want you to think I didn't care. Because I do care. And I hate that I hurt you and I hate her role in it and I hate what she did to you."

"I hate what she did to you," I said.

"To us."

"Yeah well that sucked but I mean she literally exploded the mine. Like, that could have done some serious damage." I scratched my nose and sat back, on her thighs. She grimaced and I jabbed her in the side. "Don't make that face, I'm not that heavy."

"Of course not, dear." Her eyelashes batted prettily and her lips pouted invitingly so I forgave her and kissed her again.

"Keep going," I said. And her eyes looked vulnerable again so I shuffled down to lie on top of her, draping my limbs over hers and pressing my nose into her neck. "I'm listening." I wanted to be close. But I wanted her to know I was here, I wasn't leaving, I wanted her to be able to feel my reaction, and I wanted her to be able to say it without trying to see everything in my face. Having to actually say it to me. That could be intimidating.

"I hate what she did," Regina said softly. "So why…" I felt her shake her head and her hands came up to rest on my back. One clutched at the fabric. The other just ran meaningless patterns over my shirt and drove me a little bit batty. I ignored it in favour of listening to her speak. "Why do I miss her?" I didn't say anything and I didn't move away – truthfully, I had expected that, that she missed her – and after a small flinch reassured by my continued presence, Regina spoke again. "I'm so angry because she didn't fight me at all! I told her to go and she did. I told her I didn't want that stupid job and she gave it to Gold without batting an eye. I told her to leave me alone, to get out of my life and Emma, I'm scared that I'll never see her again. She's my mother," she cried into my hair. A hug was reassurance, tight and tighter when I felt her shaking and ignoring the cracks in her voice letting fear creep out into our discussion. "She's my mother and she doesn't care. She doesn't love me."

"She does," I said. Certain. Not a grain of doubt. Plaster shut those cracks. "She does because it just isn't possible to know you and not love you, Regina." I stretched up to kiss her cheek. "She does love you."

"Then why do I feel like this?"

"Like what?" A graze of my thumb over her cheek was a prompt, a question. "Regina?"

"I'm sad, Emma." She looked away. "And I'm angry and scared and upset because why was I never good enough for her? And I want to hurt her and I never want to see her again and I miss her so much it hurts and I…"

"You're sad," I repeated with a nod. "Okay."

"Okay?" Her look was quick and warm and tentative. "Okay?"

"Yeah," I breathed. "It's okay. She's your mom. I never had one," my mouth twisted and I shrugged because that wasn't a conversation for now, now was about Regina and her, we could talk about that later, "but I know what family is. And if Graham ever did that to me I would kick his ass." Regina smirked. "But if he just left afterward, it would be hard. I'm not going to say I get it because I don't. I can't." I brushed her hand with mine and she entwined our fingers, squeezing lightly. "But you, I'm," I frowned. Trying to find the words. Escaping me. She was close and distracting and warmth and I didn't know what I felt because it was still trying to settle to find its own pattern and this Regina's own heartache she hadn't let me see had scuffled it again sending my thoughts and heartbeating feelings up into the sky and I had to see where they landed before I could show them to Regina. I could tell her a few things for sure, though. "I'm always going to listen, Regina. Even if I don't agree, I'm going to do my best to hear you and understand. And you're right. I'm not your mom's greatest fan. But she's your mom and that's not something that you can just shake off one day. And whatever you're feeling, it's okay to feel that."

She relaxed back into her pillows and that wasn't quite a smile on her lips because she wasn't happy yet, she wouldn't be happy until this was fixed or put behind her, but it was close and it was just for me. And it was delicate and sweet but it was certain in that grounded, foundation beneath the surface, I-love-you-you-love-me-back kind of way that we hadn't quite had for the last little while.

"So if you want to do something, if you need something, you gotta let me know. And I'll make it happen or, you know, do my best." I nodded firmly.

There was the smile. Blinding. Dazzling. Off-balance, I flopped forward into her arms once again and lay there for a little while to get my bearings. Regina, north. And south east west. I sighed happily when her fingers brushed against the skin of my hip, my elbow, my neck. When her lips brushed a kiss on my temple, adoring, I could feel impressing itself on my skin and making the thump-thump of my heart come a little faster.

"I don't need anything else," she said very quietly. "But…I want to talk to her. Eventually."

"Okay." I breathed out and rejoiced in the shiver it elicited. "Anything you want."

It was the day before Henry's birthday party that Regina tried to contact her mother. Only, Cora never picked up. Or made any sign that she received the email or message that Regina sent her. And the slightly neurotic way that Regina checked and double-checked everything she did, endearing as it was, hinted at a darker emotion.

It made me angry.

Well and truly, bone deep angry. Because that was the woman I loved and someone that she loved was hurting her.

I needed help. Which meant, once again, I needed advice from the one of the most intelligent women I knew. And her girlfriend. I ducked out of party preparation for a minute – Henry didn't even notice, enraptured by the pirate ship piñata Graham had found – and ran down to the diner.

"But what do I do, Belle? The last time I talked to Cora everything went to shit and I thought I was doing the right thing but it was just horrible." Belle and Ruby nodded along to that.

"Kill her," Ruby suggested. "You can hire people to do it if you're squeamish. But if you want Cora out of your life, make it permanent." Her lips stretched out over white, gleaming teeth, and I frowned.

"Um. No. What?" I shook my head. "You don't get to help plan things anymore, Ruby." I turned back to Belle. "What do you think?"

Belle wasn't much better. Darkness settled over her expression and she seemed intent. "Manipulate her. Turn her weaknesses against her and use them to your advantage. Get her to be on her best behaviour. If you just-"

I held up a hand and stopped her. "Whoa. Stop. You don't get to help either. What is with you two today? You're all killing and mind games. Is this going to be a permanent change?" I questioned. "Because I'm not sure how I feel about it."

"We didn't get much sleep," Ruby confessed without a shadow of guilt. "So we're a bit odd today." Belle blushed bright red. I rolled my eyes.

"Great. Well I'm glad you're having fun but I'm in strife right now, a genuine crisis, and your ideas suck."

"For gods sake," a voice grumbled, "why is it that you girls are always planning things in the diner? Ruby, back to work," Granny demanded, accompanied by a snap of her towel. "Belle, buy something or get out because you haven't moved in with Ruby yet and this isn't your house." Belle blushed a darker red and squeaked a plea for another coffee. Granny pursed her lips but filled the mug. "And you," Granny said to me. "Talk to Cora. That woman needs a hell of a kick to the ass if she can't see what she's doing to her own daughter. Now if I am quite done being the stereotypical wise diner owner, I would like to get back to work. Yes?" I nodded, thoroughly cowed. "Coffee?" I shook my head no. "Then get out and do your thing. Look after your woman."

"Yes ma'am." I jokingly saluted. Bad move, Swan. Her eyes narrowed and I suddenly found it in me to move fast and quick and out of sight. Scary.

I made my way home and Graham and Henry greeted me with guilty faces. "What did you do?" I asked.

"How does Mamma know?" Henry whispered to his uncle. "You said mamma wouldn't know."

"It's a superpower," Graham lamented. "She always knows. Sorry kid."

"You found the chocolate," I deduced from chocolate smears and, checking the fridge, a conspicuous lack of chocolate.

"How do you know?" Henry yelled, amazed and sad that I'd found them out so quickly.

"Superpower. Go wash your hands." I watched my son trudge out of the room, pouting a chocolate-covered face. Then I turned to Graham. "Do you still have Cora's number?"

"The one from Sidney's book?"

"No the one from that other place and thing—yes the one from Sidney's book," I grumbled. He ducked away when I slapped his arm. "I need it."

"You need anger management, that's what you need." He flipped through his notebook and handed it to me. "That one." I grinned. The digits were circled in red, and outside of that circle was a drawing of a devil and a couple of crude insults.

"Nice," I complimented.

"Thanks. Why do you need it?"

"I'm going to call Cora out on her behaviour."

"Really? Are you going to New York or something? Confront her?" He seemed excited by the prospect. No surprises there, when I thought about it a little more – he had thoroughly enjoyed intimidating Sidney as well.

"No. I'm literally going to call her. On the telephone." I waved the phone number and grinned when he groaned.

"Was that even a pun?"

A shrug. "Eh. Maybe? A little bit of a pun."

"What's a pun, Mamma?" Henry asked, toddling back into the room and rubbing his face with the hand towel.

"It's a play on words, kid. I said "I'm going to call her out" which means I'm going to let her know that her behaviour isn't good enough and she's being mean. But because I also mean that I'm going to call her on the phone, there are two meanings. That's why it's funny."

He frowned at me a tiny frown that indicated disapproval. I waited. "It's not a very good one, is it?" Graham laughed his stupid face off when I stomped away, muttering about not nice sons and unsupportive brothers.

"It's genius!" I yelled back at them. "Pure, unadulterated genius. And you are just bitter," I continued, then at the top of the stairs, "And sad because I thought of it and you didn't."

"Okay Emma, whatever you say."

But I could still hear my son muttering – no doubt in Graham's arms already, the traitor – about how I wasn't very good at making puns, was I? Henry didn't even know what puns were until I told him! I grumbled and huffed and paced for a few moments. Then, moving that from my mind, I contemplated the number I held in my hand.

This could go horribly, miraculous wrong. I think I had proved that by what had happened last time. But I was Emma Swan and I learnt from my mistakes and this time I wasn't giving Cora a single bloody inch of wiggle room. I was going to pin her down and make her see what a shithead she was being.

Maybe I pressed the numbers into my phone with a touch more force than was required. Maybe.

I held my breath.

"Cora Mills speaking," that infuriating voice answered.

"Hey. It's Emma Swan." There was a pause, a long one, and then she spoke again.

"And to what do I owe this pleasure?" If I hadn't hated the woman, I would admire the way she could convey tone. There was no doubting the insincerity in her tone.

"We've been in this place before, Mills," I said crankily and succinctly. "You messing stuff up and I keep having to fix it. And I hope it's not going to end up crappy again but if that's what it takes for Regina to be happy then I guess I'm just going to have to tough it out, aren't I?"

Mimicking me, she spoke. "We've been in this place before, indeed. You, on your saviour's high horse. Me, in the role of the big, bad witch," she said in that creeping mocking voice that somehow came from below, like it was a whole ocean of words and you were floating, waiting on the surface of it, and there she was with her jutting fin of mockery but what else? Teeth and tail and a nose searching for blood, weakness, in the water.

"I would've said bitch but sure. What's your point?"

"Only that your self righteousness is getting old," she sighed. "And I can't possibly think of what I might have done to here from you now. As if you don't know, I have left Regina be. She made it perfectly clear that I was not needed."

"And do you ever actually listen to your daughter or do you just pretend she's saying what you're thinking?"

"Excuse me?" she hissed and I imagined white knuckles and a rigid back.

"I said," heated accusation flinging itself across distance, hopefully to smack her right in her face, "do you listen to Regina, actually hear what she wants, or do you assume that it mimics what you want?"

"I told you, Miss Swan, I do want I do for the benefit of my daughter. Always. And you," she said, "may not agree with my methods but we are very different people and I want what is best for Regina. I always have. Everything I do is for her." Her voice was fierce and harsh.

I thought about biting my tongue and letting her talk but couldn't. So I sharpened, making my tone match hers in strength and conviction. I cut her off, talking over her. "Well you're doing it wrong."

"What would you know—"

"She's sitting here thinking—"

"She is my daughter—"

"And you think that she wants her mother to—"

"I understand what she wants—"

"Do you ever even listen you old hag or do you—"

"I will not tolerate you—"

"You will tolerate me!" I roared down the line. "You will tolerate me, dammit, because you are hurting her!" Silence. "She loves you! She loves you and I don't understand why, I don't understand how she can love someone who cuts her down at every opportunity, who fences her in, who says that this is who she is when you can't even she that she's that and so much more." I cut myself off with a growl and spun quickly in place. I jammed my hand hard against the wall, pressing, trying to relieve a little of the angry pressure I could feel building inside me. I didn't want to punch anyone so I pressed harder and, when I heard the plaster creak and felt the pulsing ache in my knuckles, I took my hand away and began pacing instead. I heard her exhale very slightly. Good. She was still listening.

I tried to soften my tone but, reduced in volume, it was still shrapnel and mistrust and sharp step-careful, listen-to-me-or-so-help-me-god clenched jaw words. "You hurt her," I said. "You hurt her and tried to blow up her relationships, not only with me but with her town. The town she invested her everything in. She's worked hard and you tried to take that from her because you wanted her to be a new version of you. Someone who maybe, what? Won't make the same mistakes you did? Who has all the guiding force behind her that you lacked? I understand that, Cora," I said and there my voice did soften because Henry, my everything, if I could help him if I could make something easier for him protect him from something that had hurt me by god I would do everything in my power to do that and I let that into my voice, sincerity, tentative for this woman who I disliked but mother to mother I could understand a fraction of that mind, "but she isn't you. And her mistakes and triumphs are hers. You can't take them from her. You are a mother. Your job is to support her. Not mold her."

"You-"

"You will listen!" I raised my voice, growled, crackled with fierce force until she backed down. "You are hurting her. You did that to her and you left and when she tries to talk to you, you won't give her time of day."

"She told me she wanted nothing to do with me." Her voice was stiff, stilted.

"And by blocking contact, you aren't exactly giving her the chance to forgive you, are you?" I sighed. "Regina wants to know that you care. That you want her and not your perfect right-hand. She wants you to see that she's chosen something for herself and done an incredible job. She wants your approval and when it became so clear that she wouldn't get it, she took for her life back and you have to make a choice. You can try, you can actually give a shit about her for once and the person that she is, and be a part of that life. Or you can leave her alone and know that at some point down the road you are going to be alone and sad with your corporation and nothing else and she will have moved on and that door will be closed to you so you'd better think hard about what it is that is really important to you." I breathed out slowly. This had to be said. "Cora. She wants to be your daughter. She wants your love." Silence, again. I took it as a good sign because that was the best thing to do, and decided to leave it at that. "Just…think about it. And," god I couldn't believe I was saying this, "you have my number now. So, if you need something…" I bit my lip. "You can call. If you have to."

"I am not so incompetent," she said with icy-cold severity, "to need your assistance. Good day, Miss Swan."

A click signalled the end of the talk. I stared down at the phone, broken connection leaving me adrift for a tiny moment, before shaking my head and slipping my phone back into my pocket. I'd done what I could. Now, I could only hope that she would do something and do something good, and be there for Regina if it turned out that she was actually as crappy as I thought she might be.

The big day came. Henry jumped on me when it was still dark out and I grumbled and patted his head and tugged him into my arms and persuaded him to stay still for an extra twenty minutes until he had had quite enough and dragged me with an improbable strength from my bed.

"Alright, alright, birthday boy." I rubbed my eyes. "Go and wake up Graham," I prompted. Justice, I thought. If I'm awake, he's awake.

Graham, looking as equally bleary-eyed and odd sock feet and rumpled hair as I did, burbled a good morning to me. I poured coffee for him. We took turns praising Henry for turning six and patting his head and letting the other gulp their coffee before they took Henry on and the other drank, and the cycle continued.

"So," Graham said when the morning light finally said hello peeking over homes and illuminating streets and trees and dusting features with a soft expectant light. "Six, huh?" Henry nodded so fast I worried for a moment his head was going to come right off. "You ready for your party?" Then he looked like he was vibrating, he was shaking with so much excitement. "Emma," Graham groaned, "I think your son is broken."

"Eh," I shrugged. "No party then."

Henry stopped shaking and flung himself at me, plastering his chest to my knee and staring up at me with imploring eyes.

"I'm so excited," he whispered before pressing his forehead hard into my leg. I grimaced. He was hugging me so tight my leg was getting pins and needles. "I'm so excited."

"Well how about I get the excited birthday boy dressed?" I suggested. "And then the birthday boy can have his special birthday breakfast and a birthday present and then we can go set up his birthday party with his birthday cake with all his friends in the special birthday park?" Henry looked catatonic with glee. I picked him up and dropped him into the bath. "First things first. You have to smell nice on your birthday."

"Okay!"

He was washed and clean and wearing his nicest shirt – ironed – and pants and, because he liked the colour, his bright red gumboots. Breakfast saw him in his king of the kitchen cape and crown, wooden spoon sceptre, and shouted directions to making waffles. Graham answered the door – washed and clean and neatly dressed himself with a tie and everything – when the bell rang, waffles almost finished.

"Hey," he greeted. "Come on in."

"Is he excited?"

"Oh boy is he ever. I'm surprised he even went to sleep last night." He stepped aside to let Regina into the apartment and she reached up to fix his collar.

I had to look away from them to the waffles when the glorious smell reached my nose – any longer and I would have burnt the special birthday breakfast. And, no doubt, Henry would declare that I was trying to sabotage it, treason against the king, and send me to my room, off with your head. It had happened before.

"Morning," she murmured when she came into the kitchen. A kiss for Henry to his child-shampooed hair. Then a kiss for me and arms that wrapped around my waist for a moment, lips pressed to my cheek. "Good morning, my love."

"Mm, I like the sound of that." I moved waffles to each plate. "Good morning." A proper kiss then, and then cutlery and syrup and strawberries and a shrieking gleeful child and messy food and messy hands and messy smiles shared across table and syrup smeared into the table but perfection.

"Present!" Henry yelled. "Birthday present!" I narrowed my eyes and he abruptly remembered his manners. "Please," he wheedled. I allowed it.

I snagged him and dumped him onto the couch. "Wait here," I told my son and, wriggling and excited and breathless as he was, he did. So Graham and Regina and I stole into my room where I had hidden his gifts and we searched for the perfect first gift.

"Speaking of presents," Regina said after a moment, "imagine my surprise when an express package arrived this morning at my home. For Henry."

"Oh yeah?" I asked, not really paying attention.

"From my mother's address." I froze. She chuckled darkly from behind me and Graham winced. "Oh yes. I rather thought you had something to do with that."

"Regina," I started, "I can explain."

"And I look forward to that," she said, "But if you are worried, my love, you needn't be." She took my hand. "We'll talk about it later, because we do have to discuss it, but you," she said before kissing me heatedly, "are a most amazing woman."

"I am?"

"She is?" Graham said jokingly.

"Yes. And this is the gift," Regina said, holding it aloft.

Graham and I both nodded. Yes. Perfect. Together, we descended the stairs – after placing Henry's other gifts into a bag to take to the park with all the decorations – and found him still seated on the couch and bouncing in place.

"Finally!" he yelled. "I am birthday boy," Henry reminded us with a slight pout.

"And what kind of birthday boy would you be without this?" I asked, handing him a package, which he immediately ripped into. Then he descended into a babbling stream of words of which I picked out "aaaaaah" and "knight" and "mamma!" and "I'm a knight I'm a knight I gotta sword and shield I'm a knight," because it was indeed a sword and shield for him. Plastic, of course. Graham helped him slip his arm into the buckle on the shield and he wrapped his little hand around the hilt of the sword and just beamed at us.

"Party!" he demanded.

And to the party we marched. He beat at several plants and more than a few imaginary foes with his weapon, shield waving away attacks, on the way to the park. Once there, his friends swarmed him and I didn't see him for a good hour then.

We took a seat at one of the park tables to keep an eye on the children. Regina stayed by my side, leaning into me, and eventually she spoke. "The package was a gift for Henry." I hummed that I was listening. I hoped she wasn't about to say that it was a bomb. "It was the Three Musketeers. A beautiful copy with illustrations. A little old for him, I think," I nodded my agreement with that, "but thoughtful. I can't believe she remembered how much he likes book." She looked up at me with wide, dark eyes. "Would you perhaps like to tell me what you said to her?"

"Just something she had to hear. Why? What else did she do?" I knew there was more to it. She was still holding herself, hand to her stomach lightly like there was a secret there and was niggling at her.

"There may have been an anonymous donation last night to the city council." I raised my eyebrows. "With stipulations." She didn't continue and I nudged her.

"Stipulations?"

"It's thirty thousand dollars, Emma," she said very, very quietly. I froze. That was…a lot of money. "And she has said that five is to be put towards the sheriff's department and ten to education." Regina pulled away from me a little, arms folded now tight across her chest. "What did you say to her?"

"I told you. What she needed to hear. And if she wants to talk to you about it then fine but," I shrugged, uncomfortable, "maybe just roll with it, Regina. I said a lot of stuff. I don't remember all of it."

I thought for the longest time that she was going to stay on it, to rip the information from me, but she relented with a dip of the head. She returned to her place against my side. Then, quietly, "Move in with me."

I rested my chin on the top of her head and with questing eyes I spied my son, happier than I had ever seen him. My arm wound around Regina's shoulders. "I'd love to."

There you have it. Coffee To Go is complete. I hope that you enjoyed yourself, please leave a review to tell me if you have, and go and check out my other stories if you want. Come and talk with me on tumblr if you have any questions I am more than happy to answer them for you. I've loved writing this and hearing from you so thank you very much for reading this story and as always, Happy reading, Readers :)