Author's Note: So, at my job we have the local radio station going and at 7 PM every week night, there's this sort of "advice columnist" who does a segment. People call in with stories about their loved ones and request songs (although, coincidentally they often ask her to pick a song for them, which sounds a little fishy to me but whatever). Anyway, so this was one of the stories I've heard and I couldn't help but let inspiration run away with it so here goes.

I think this might actually be a movie, too, but I've never seen it, so forgive me.

As always, I own nothing.

It starts with a phone call.

It's 9 PM on a Tuesday night and Regina Mills is folding laundry, an opportunity she does not take for granted because lately her clothes have become a heap of wadded-up this and thats. But with her newborn baby being as fussy as he often is, keeping her up at random hours of the night, Regina doesn't have time for luxuries like nicely folded laundry. She's overworked and exhausted, and frankly, terrified. Perhaps, she wasn't cut out for the mom thing. Her own mother had tried to convince her that a baby wasn't going to fix the hole left in the wake of Daniel's death, but she'd contacted an adoption agency anyway, and before she knew it, she was being handed a newborn baby boy, which she named Henry after her father.

But motherhood proved to be a far more trying task than she'd ever imagined. And she often curses herself for the occasional fleeting thought that she never should have done it in the first place. She loves Henry, of course, with all her heart, but that doesn't make it automatically easy. He'd been colicky in his early months, and it'd dissipated, as all the parenting books said it would, but that didn't stop Henry from still being a fussy, lively baby. She'd once told him, as they were careening through their suburb for a (well intended) short trip to Walmart, and during a rousing chorus of I Don't Want to Miss a Thing, that she was going to dedicate that song to him for every single milestone in his life because it seemed that the song perfectly described him- Henry Mills could not sleep for fear that he'd miss something while he did. (Plus it was an excellent double meaning because she also did not want to miss any part of her son's life).

And while she can make jokes and tease about the situation, deep down, she always has this churning in the pit of her stomach, that reminds her she could be a better parent, or that maybe she isn't a fit parent because she can't keep her baby calm, whether he's fussy or just awake and bouncing off the walls.

Tonight, though, the universe gives her a reprieve and she folds her laundry in peace, that is until a shrill ringing pierces the serenity in the Mills' household. Her immediate reaction is to cringe, fearful that the baby sleeping in the play pen right next to her would erupt into tears at any moment and join the melody of disturbing sounds. It only takes her two strides across the tiny living room to end the noise because Henry is still sleeping and she doesn't want to push chance any further than it will allow.

The caller ID is a number she doesn't recognize but given that she is desperate to silence the telephone, she answers in a low, but fairly average volume. "Hello?" Her greeting is chilly but she feels as though the person on the other line is completely aware that she has a snoozing infant right beside her and that they should have some respect for that.

There is a brief pause before a voice comes through, drenched in confusion. "Uh, Belle?" He has an English accent, she notes, and Regina doesn't dismiss the fact that her interest is piqued at the sound of his warm, rich accent lilting through the phone.

She is equally confused, however, realizing in mere seconds that the caller had misdialed. "I'm sorry," she tells him, her own voice melting away its iciness, "you must have the wrong number."

"Oh," he answers back contritely. "Apologies, m'lady."

Before she can answer, a wail shatters the bubble of their conversation and Regina's attention returns to Henry, who is now having a full out meltdown in the play pen.

She sighs and treks over to her son, forgetting entirely about the man on the phone until he coos and sympathizes. "Ah, don't I know that sound all too well?"

"You have a baby?" she asks, as she lodges the phone between her ear and shoulder so that she can reach into the play pen and pick up Henry to bounce him a little.

"I do," he confirms for her. "Roland, 6 months, well almost, anyway. He'll be 6 months next Friday."

"How funny," she remarks, "Henry turned six months on Tuesday last week."

"Small world, huh?"

"Minuscule," she answers.

Another pause pins down the conversation and Regina briefly questions why she's stayed on the phone with a stranger this long.

She's just about to send her regards and tell him that she needs to go, wishing him well on finding whomever Belle is, but he interjects, "Try the vacuum some time."

"Huh?"

"The vacuum," he reiterates insistently, "Roland loves the vacuum cleaner and it always gets him right to sleep."

She mulls over the strange advice but she's practically willing to do anything if it means it can soothe Henry. So, she thanks him and tells him she'll give it a try.

"Just doing my job," he jokes with a chuckle. "Saving one knackered parent at a time."

"Well, I guess I'll have to let you know if your service is reliable or not."

"Do that," he responds, "and I'll send you my bill."

She laughs, a foreign sound to her, given that she does it far less than she cries, loath as she is to admit it. "Unfortunately, seeing as you're a stranger, I don't feel all that comfortable giving you my address."

"Well, you know technology these days ruins the mystery, more often than not."

"How soothing," she volleys back.

He hums and Regina reflects on how big she's smiling. Funny how a random, unwarranted phone call could have such an impact. She knows that after the next few moments, she'll never hear from this stranger again but she quietly thanks the universe for the experience anyway. A little moment to remind her that she's okay, that Henry is okay and she's more than this perpetually stressed out supermom. She's Regina Mills, supermom and super (currently on maternity leave) journalist. The world is still out there and waiting with open arms when she's ready to return. It'll all be okay.

"'Spose I could let this one be on the house," he finally tells her.

"How generous of you," she answers with playful sarcasm.

"That's the Locksley way."

"Is that your name?" she queries, knowing that she should end the conversation before they're telling each other everything about themselves but she waits for him to answer her question.

"Now who's trying to wrestle information out of the other?" he teases her.

"Well, you offered, so technically..."

"True," he concedes, "but yes, that's my last name, anyway. First name's Robin."

"Regina," she informs him before he even asks.

She can practically hear his smile. "A lovely name."

"Thank you."

When the third silence settles in, they both clamor to make up excuses to get off the phone but their reluctance is undeniable. He bids her goodnight, however, and wishes her luck with Henry who is now sleeping peacefully, once again, on her shoulder. She returns the wish, but for his own son, and then, finishes with a goodnight from her to him.

And after she ends the call, Regina finds herself with a sliver of hope that maybe that won't be the last time they speak.

[:]

It continues with another call.

It's been 1 month and 6 days since Robin had accidentally misdialed her and Regina Mills would be lying if she didn't say that during that time, she sort of wished that he would call again. But her hope that he would dwindled into nothing but a pipe dream after she'd reached the one month marker with no phone call. She doesn't quite know what she expected. It was an accident, a simple misdial, which resulted in the exchange of a few parenting tips, and then it was over. But she supposes that she'd rather hoped it was serendipity, instead, worming its way through the universe and bringing two lost souls together. Of course, she realizes that the notion is foolish and ridiculous, but that didn't stop the hope stirring in her heart.

Regina's managed well to distract herself, though. Between Henry and the new manuscript that her boss graciously bestowed upon her, she hasn't had much time for wishful thinking. She's using that hope in the whirlwind world of editing, instead. One day, she's going to pinpoint the next best seller and be the one who finds the next J. K. Rowling or Harper Lee. But it seems that the manuscript she's currently in possession of won't be the one to support that claim. Her newest read is Letting in the Cold, a fictional piece based on the life of the author, Elsa Arendelle, detailing the life of a female heroine locked away by her parents in her room, not allowed much human contact and given a basic homeschool education, until her 18th birthday where she was released from her home and into a world of drugs and prostitution. Regina can see potential but she knows there must be some flaw, given that her boss, Mal, passed it on to her to read at home and was told to read it at her leisure. But that annoying little glimmer of hope lingers. It's actually been a pretty good read so far- heavy- but good. Regina just got it over a week ago and she's about 3/4 of the way done with it. There's several things that need to be changed, she understands, but for the most part, there is potential, just potential with a lot of work in store.

Tonight, she plans to finish it and write up her comments to be sent to Mallory, and perhaps, even insist that they move forward with it, but she still has to get to the ending because that decides everything.

Henry is tucked safely in his roundabout watching reruns of Friends flash before his eyes while she sits on the couch and reads, being sure to glance over at him every now and again to make sure he's still safe.

It isn't long before she's reaching the penultimate chapter. The heroine has come into contact with the little sister that didn't even know she existed, and together, the two women seek rehabilitation for the eldest sister in her addiction, as well as, their incognizant relationship. It hits a soft spot for Regina, when she thinks of her own sister, whom she hasn't seen in years. Zelena, too, had been cast out by their mother and she and Regina became estranged.

Maybe, if the two sisters in the novel fan repair things, one day she and Zelena can.

But before she can find out if the sisters in the novel live happily ever after, the phone rings and that hope rises again just briefly before she snuffs it out and pads over to answer it.

"Hello?"

She hears a short laugh and she immediately recognizes it, even though they've only spoken once before. "Would you believe I dialed your number wrong again?"

It's her turn to laugh softly and poke fun at him. "It is a bit far-fetched. I might think you did it on purpose."

"And if I did?"

Regina muses, then tells him, "Well, it still wouldn't be unwelcome."

"Good." She waits for him to say something else, since he did call. "So, did the vacuum trick work?"

A rush of pride swells her chest. "It did actually, thank you. It's incredible. Who would've known?"

"See, this parenting thing isn't so hard."

"Speak for yourself," she mutters with a twinge of bitterness.

"Oh," he patronizes, "I'm sure you're doing a grand job. It's not a cake walk."

"Definitely not when you're a single parent."

"You're right," he concurs, "I can certainly attest to that."

The unveiling of Robin's relationship status leaves her a little tongue tied for a second. It's not like it matters. He could be dating someone, or not dating at all. Plus she doesn't know where he lives. Sure, it's a state area code but that doesn't mean anything. Nevertheless, she gets caught up for just a moment.

"What happened to Roland's mother, if you don't mind my asking?" she inquires once she's got her head on straight.

He huffs gently and she regrets asking, but he tells her anyway, "She passed. She, uh," she can hear him swallow and she knows it's hard for him, "she, uh, hemorrhaged during child birth, and, uh, never made it out of surgery."

"God," Regina breathes. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. I'm coping. Plus, I have Roland and he makes it easier."

"Mhm," she murmurs back, meanwhile, mentally kicking herself for taking that route.

He perks back up and shifts the weight of the subject, "And Henry's father?"

"Henry is actually adopted," she answers dutifully. "I adopted after my husband, Daniel, died- car accident. Most people told me to just get a dog, but I'm not much of a pet person so I decided to get a kid instead," she laughs awkwardly.

"What?!" he exclaims incredulously. "C'mon, no pets?"

"I mean, they're okay, but they're messy and you have to train them and it's a lot of work."

"As is an infant," he retorts defensively.

"Yes," she snorts, "but one day a child can pay back in kind and clean up after themselves. There's no gratitude that comes from pets except the inability to have carpet or cloth couches."

"They give companionship," he defends.

She sighs, caving to him, "Fair enough."

"Sorry about your husband though," he says after a lull in the conversation.

She swallows her own lump. "It's okay. I'm coping. Plus, I have Henry and he makes it easier," she mimics him with a bored tone, as though she doesn't want to delve any further into her feelings about her loss.

He picks up the cue and attempts a subject change, "Soooo..."

"Soooo..." she parrots back.

"Is it weird that I want to just have a conversation with you?"

It should be considered stunning how quickly the word no formulates and slips from her lips, but she isn't surprised at all, truthfully, because she wants the same thing.

"Is it weird that I said no?"

"Not a bit."

She exhales relief and ambles back over to the couch, plopping down and setting the manuscript on the coffee table. "Then I suppose we're a go for having a conversation."

He snickers, "I'm glad to hear it."

They spend the next two hours talking, while they both multitask, feeding their boys and putting them to bed. Jobs are first- she's an editor and he's a dentist. Then home towns (Willmington for her and Ivanhoe for him, which are roughly 45 minutes apart), hobbies, and then a leapfrog of topics as the conversation steers itself. Before they know it, it's far past their obligatory bed times and they have such a wonderful time that they promise to talk again the next day if they can.

[:]

That next day becomes everyday for the next few weeks and then for the following six months. Regina has since gone back to work, and actually gotten the green light on the Arendelle novel. Her days now consist of reworking and rewriting, while her evenings consists of entertaining two boys- one with toys and goofy faces and the other with substantive conversation. And she's happy. Everything is coming together. It may not be exactly according to plan but it works.

She wasn't sure for the longest time that she'd ever make it to where she is now but she's good at proving her wrong or, at least, Robin is- that's something she's learned in their time together. But she's lucky to have found a friend in him, as odd as the circumstances might be.

Although, today, the circumstances might get a little less strange for them. Today is the highly anticipated day that they meet. After six long months of parenting advice exchanges, long phone calls about nothing and cheering one another on in life whenever they needed it, Robin and Regina are finally going to come face to face.

He's headed to Wrightsville Beach, which is just several minutes from her own home, with Roland and one of his buddies, John. He asked if they could meet given their proximity and she'd willingly obliged. It's the craziest thing Regina has ever done- meeting a stranger she only knows from six months of telephone calls. Her mother would have a conniption if she knew and Kathryn might have a cow plus the whole barn. (Managing to keep the secret from her has been the hardest). But against her better judgment and against what Cora or Kathryn's would-be admonishments, she's sitting on a bench in a park waiting for the man behind the telephone calls.

She hopes he's cute. Then she can justify the butterflies she already has. She also hopes he thinks she's cute and that he has butterflies. But mostly, she hopes that things won't change once they're together in person. Hopefully, they're the same Robin and Regina that they've been the past six months.

Her cell phone pings in her hand with a text from him, Sorry, running a bit late be there soon x

She texts back, I'll be here :) and waits.

He doesn't answer so she muddles her way through her Facebook timeline, catching up on the latest gossip and whatever else is going on. But her eyes steadily keep watch of the clock, noting as five minutes pass and then ten.

After thirteen agonizing minutes, footsteps approach from behind.

"Regina?" She finally hears that gentle and warm voice she easily recognizes behind her.

She takes no moment of hesitation, turning to finally put a face to the voice she'd gotten to know so well.

The view isn't disappointing. Her eyes find a handsome man with sandy blonde hair and stunning blue eyes looking back at her. But the most drawing feature is his effervescent smile, bookended by two large dimples and mirrored in the baby he has strapped to his chest in a carrier.

Regina can already feel the swell of her heart as she stands there and takes in everything about Robin that she can.

She never really answered him, so he reiterates her name again, peeking at her expectantly.

A grin spreads across her face.

It starts with a phone call and ends with, "Hello."