Kailor: Hello, folks! My first stab at a Once Upon A Time fic. I am also currently writing a Harry Potter fic (Castle of Glass), so if any readers of that story see this, I'M COMING BACK, I PROMISE! But this has been lurking around my mind for a while now and I must write it. Hope you enjoy! I don't own Once or any of it's characters! But of course, you all know that. Because if I did, SwanQueen would be a thing already.

October in Maine came with a harsh wind and an intense cold front. Snow coated nearly the entire state, forcing people to break out their thickest coats and scarves. Roads were almost completely empty by dark in most places, abandoned for the warmth of hearths and beds. People tried to stay home until later in the mornings when the sun rose to offer a little relief from the cold.

But one car wound its way up the coast through the thick fog of pre-dawn, braving the ice and wind. It would be hours before the car reached it's destination: the little town of Storybrooke. The driver rubbed her eyes, pressing a little harder on the gas pedal.

XXXXXXX

In Storybrooke, the town was slowly rising with the sun. Parents were bundling up their children to send them to school. The small diner on the corner of Main St. was opening, but other businesses remained locked up against the chill.

And a young boy with a mop of brown hair and green eyes was shouldering his backpack and shutting his bedroom door.

Henry hurried from his room, wrapping his favorite gray and red stripped scarf around his neck. He could hear his mother moving around downstairs, probably getting ready for work. He paused on the stairs to read the text he'd just gotten. Shooting back a fast reply, he hopped down the last few steps. The bottom floor was bright, the curtains pulled back to let in the dawn light. He passed through the living room and stepped into the kitchen.

The fridge door was open and he could hear things clinking inside it. "Mom, Roland is here to walk to school together."

A head of long brunette hair popped up over the door of the fridge and blue eyes filled with fake tears. "After all this time, you finally called me Mom!"

Henry laughed. "Aunt Ruby. I didn't think you'd be awake this early."

"That makes two of us," the brunette said, shutting the fridge and taking the jug of milk to the kitchen island. He tried not to laugh at her gingerbread man pajamas. "But your mother knocked over the coat rack when she came back from her run and woke me up with all her cursing. Emma! Henry's leaving!"

The bathroom door under the stairs opened, loosing a puff of steam and a tall blonde with the same green eyes as Henry. She was half dressed for work, in jeans, her favorite hiking boots, and a tight muscle shirt. She tossed her towel over her shoulder, smiling at him. "Morning, kid. Leaving us already?"

"Roland is waiting for me outside," he said, pulling on his shoes. Arms suddenly wrapped around him, squeezing the breath out of him. "Mom!"

"No, Henry. Don't go," she whined, pulling him close.

"Emma," Ruby said, sipping her milk with a mischievious glint in her eyes. "He really can't stay."

"But baby, it's cold outside," Emma sang without missing a beat.

"He's got to go away," Ruby returned.

"But baby, it's cold outside!"

"Mom!" Henry struggled to stay on his feet as his mother pulled him into an exaggerated ballroom dance.

"Been hoping that you'd drop in," Emma sang, spinning him.

"Mom! Roland is-"

"I'LL TAKE YOUR HANDS!" Emma sang over him. "THEY'RE JUST LIKE ICE!"

Ruby laughed as Henry fought to escape and Emma continued to sing over his protests. Finally, he managed to duck out from under her arms and pulled the door open. Emma caught him from behind, putting him in a headlock. "Mom! Stop!" he gasped, thrashing against her hold.

"'Cause baby, it's cold outsideeeeeee," Emma sang, dragging out the last note ridiculously. Then she spun Henry right out the door, laughing. "Morning, Roland!" she called to the tall brown haired boy standing in the driveway. He waved back, chuckling as a red-faced Henry rushed past him, not waiting for his friend.

Emma waited until the two boys were out of sight before closing the door. She strode to the kitchen island, nabbing Ruby's glass of milk. "He's so cute when he's embarrassed." She moved to the couch where her sheriff's office shirt and her gun belt were hung over the arm.

With a glare, Ruby made herself another glass and joined Emma at the couch. She curled into one corner, tucking her feet underneath her. "Busy day?"

Emma shrugged into her shirt, buttoning it up, then strapped on her belt. "Sort of. They're working on finishing up the construction on Mifflin Street. Mr. Spencer wants that huge deck of his done before the weekend's over. They're gonna have to work well into the night and most of tomorrow too. I told Leroy I'd be there to help. Plus, Billy got in the new locks for the cells at the station and I have to program them or some crap." There was a small click from the table beside the couch and a drawer slid out. Emma pulled her gun out, sliding it into the holster at her hip. "Then I still have to buy a gift for Mary Margaret's baby shower."

"Oh, what are you getting her?"

"I was thinking an 'At Home DNA test'." Emma gave a cheeky grin and raised her glass to her lips.

"Emma Swan, don't you dare!" Ruby gasped, one hand fluttering to her chest. "It would be so trashy if we showed up with the same gift!"

Emma choked on her milk, leaning forward quickly to keep it from spilling on her shirt. Her roommate just laughed. Once Emma managed to clear her throat, she grabbed her wallet and keys from the table, sticking them in her pockets. Then she picked up the long, leather boot lace that had sat beside her wallet, and wound it around her wrist until the ends met, then tied it securely. Ruby eyed the boot lace, but said nothing about it.

With quick goodbyes, Emma pulled on her red leather jacket and let herself out. She enjoyed the cold wind stinging her face as she hurried to her beat-up yellow bug and slipped into the driver's seat. Her key was in the ignition, ready to turn it over, when something hit her passenger door, making her jump.

A large, furry set of ears twitched outside the window and Emma let out the breath she'd been holding. She reached over and pushed the side door open. The silvery gray wolf leapt into the passenger seat, settling neatly. One pitch black eye and one dark red one peered at her.

"You scared the hell out of me, Wolf. Where have you been all night? You know Graham would never forgive me if you were off eating children or something." Emma quickly reached around the beast to close the door. He just blinked at her. His long, pink tongue darted out, licking his muzzle. She narrowed her eyes at her furry companion. "You weren't out eating children, were you?"

The wolf just cocked its head to the side in response and she shook her head, turning on the car.

Traffic was minimal. In a town as small as Storybrooke, most kids lived walking distance from school. Emma drove past a few groups of walkers as she made her way to the sheriff station. She spent about an hour there, finishing up paperwork and making phone calls while Wolf padded around the office, watching her. Then they hopped back in her car and headed for Mifflin Street.

She spotted Leroy's truck on the curb outside 107. The yellow bug purred up behind it and she parked. She dug quickly through the pile of stuff in the backseat, pulling out a warm beanie, a thick pair of work gloves, and a heavy tool belt. She switched it for her gun belt and pulled the beanie on, then hopped out of the car, waving to Leroy and the other men. She waited for Wolf to hop down with her and closed the door.

XXXXXXX

The black Mercedes finally passed the sign that read, "Welcome to Storybrooke" and the woman driving let herself sigh in relief. It had been a very long, overnight drive. She pulled the visor down and checked her reflection in the mirror, hoping she didn't look as tired as she felt. Her shoulder-length, black hair was perfectly smooth, but her dark brown eyes had slight bags under them. With a grimace, she shoved the visor back up.

The trees that lined the road ended a little later and she slowed down, glancing around at the shops opening on either side of her car. She hadn't been to Storybrooke since she was a small child, but nothing had changed. Fighting the overwhelming sense of deja vu, she looked for Mifflin Street.

Her phone rang from the cup holder she'd dropped it in. She grabbed it, swiping to answer when she saw who was calling. "Hello, Mother."

"Regina, darling!" Cora Mills' voice was far too enthusiastic for this early in the day. "Where are you? Your father seems to think you should have been here an hour ago."

"I was supposed to be," Regina said, sighing. "There was an accident a few towns back. Took a while to get around it. But I'm in Storybrooke."

"That's wonderful! Do hurry along, dear. Your father refuses to have breakfast without you."

Regina smiled at that. "I see Mifflin now. I'll be there in just a few minutes." She turned onto Mifflin Street, her smile fading as she saw a small line of cars ahead. She couldn't see around the large van in front of her, but she could see men moving from the large house on her left to the road. "What's going on? There's something blocking the road."

There was a rustling sound on the phone and then Cora said, "Oh, yes. They're doing construction next door. A truck is dropping off the larger pieces of lumber. You'll have to wait until they finish unloading."

Regina growled, throwing her car into park. Just her luck. Half a block away and she gets stuck in traffic. She didn't think a town this small knew what traffic was. Her mother began to chat about the things she'd done around the house to get ready for her arrival and Regina tuned her out, watching the workers bringing the materials to the front yard of 107.

A short man in a flannel jacket was yelling and pointing where he wanted things. He looked like he hated mornings as much as Regina did. He was the only one of the group that hadn't removed his coat. Apparently the work was keeping the cold from the others, but she was on the short man's side: coats and anger were what made mornings morning.

A long line of men filed into sight, carrying a long, heavy wooden beam. She blinked in surprise as she realized the third one in line was definitely not a man.

The woman's face was on the other side of the beam, but she could see the tip of a beanie above it and long, blonde curls below. Her body was long and thin, clad in a muscle shirt, tight jeans, and high top brown boots. A tool belt hung around her waist, swinging as she walked.

Regina raised an eyebrow at the rips in the muscle shirt and the streak of dirt on the back of one jean-clad thigh. Back in her offices in New York, she'd rarely even seen a woman in jeans, much less doing manual labor and wearing tool belts.

The line placed the beam on a prepared row of sawhorses and returned to the road. Regina couldn't catch the woman's face because she was turned, talking to the short man directing them. He waved his hand at her and gave a smile that looked painful on his face, but genuine. The woman's head fell back, like she was laughing, and she continued towards the road. Regina returned to her conversation.

"Are they nearly finished up there? I'm about to just park in some random driveway and walk! I've been in this car for eight hours now!"

"Yes, darling. They're unloading the last bit now."

The line of men returned with another long beam. Unconciously, her eyes swept the line for the woman. She was missing.

A few seconds later she appeared, a sledge hammer slung over her shoulders. She handed the hammer off to one of the men and headed for the corner of the house, stepping around it, and was gone. Regina never saw her face.

The car in front of her began to move and she quickly shifted gears, muttering, "Finally."

She parked in the garage of 108 and crawled out of the car, stretching. It felt like she hadn't had blood flow in her legs in a month. She grabbed her purse and cell phone before she heard the door to the kitchen swing open.

"Darling!" Cora called, rushing to her side and giving her a peck on the cheek. Her dark brown hair was done up in an intricate bun and her eyes, brown as Regina's, had a touch of make-up around them. She looked ready to go out to dinner at any moment and it wasn't even noon yet.

"Hello, Mother," Regina returned the peck on the cheek.

"Do you need help with your bags?"

"No, I'll get them later. There's too much stuff for now."

Cora smiled. "Well, that happens when you move somewhere new. I'm so glad you decided to do this. Your father is thrilled."

Regina followed the older woman into the kitchen, setting her purse down on the counter. "Where is Daddy?"

Her mother waved a hand towards the other room. "Oh, he's in the living room, resting. You know how his leg gets in cold weather." She turned and hurried down the hall, Regina right behind her.

"Daddy!" Regina cried when she saw his wild, white hair sticking up over the couch back.

Henry Mills turned, smiling. "Regina! My little princesa." His dark blue eyes shone and he spread his arms. She gladly threw herself into them. "How was the drive?"

"Long," she huffed, kicking off her heels. "But I'm here. My assistant is finishing up my paperwork for the week. And then, that's it. I'm retired."

Behind her, Cora snorted. "I wish I was able to retire at a young age. But it's just like my little girl to go and get rich and retire before her poor mother can."

"Well, Storybrooke needs a mayor," Regina laughed. "And you've been mayor since before I was born. I don't know what would happen if you quit."

"Death. Destruction. Looting. Riots in the streets," Cora dramatically sighed.

"Is it even legal to be mayor as long as you have?"

"I don't think so. But no one has showed up to arrest me yet."

Regina spent the rest of the day blissfully chatting with her father and laughing at her mother's running commentary on being mayor of a small town.

XXXXXXX

Emma left 107 for a few hours around six. She stopped by the station so Billy, the mechanic, could put in the new cell locks. He installed them while she watched over his shoulder, completely clueless as he fiddled with gears and screws. "They work with those keys on the desk or with a code that you need to program in," Billy explained. "But now, they automatically lock when you shut them. I guess the mayor knows how forgetful you are, Sheriff." He grinned.

"Jeez, you let one drunk teenager escape and you never hear the end of it. He didn't even make it out of the station," Emma pouted.

When Billy left, she attempted to program her chosen code into the locks. The manual was obviously written in Mandarin or some equally difficult language, because she couldn't understand a thing it was saying. Finally, she gave up and headed home.

Ruby was at work, but Henry was there, doing his homework at the kitchen table.

"Hey, kid," she said. "Shouldn't you be hanging out with a girlfriend or selling drugs downtown? Isn't that what kids do these days?" She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Nah," he replied. "Finished up selling my stash earlier. Made a few hundred."

"That's my boy."

"Yeah, and when I turn twelve in a couple months I'm gonna spring for a huge fur coat and pimp hat."

"Gotta look the part," she said as if it were the most obvious thing ever. "Dress for the job you want and all that."

Henry laughed, shaking his head at the ridiculous conversation. He watched his mother moving around, making a sandwich and wrapping it up. "Are you leaving again?"

The fridge door squeaked as she opened it. "Yeah, Leroy's still got a lot to do on that deck. We're pulling an all-nighter to try and get it done. Hopefully there will only be a little bit left to do tomorrow." She paused. "Unless you want me to stay home. I can tell him I can't go."

"No, no. It's okay, Mom. I was just wondering. Aunt Ruby will be off around ten, she said."

"Okay," Emma said, not sounding convinced. Reaching across the table, she squeezed his hand. "But you know you can ask me to stay. You come before anything else, kid."

He grinned, his eyes, so like her own, crinkling up with his nose. "I know, Mom."

"BUT," she said. "If you do need me or just want me to come home, you know where I am and you can call me. If I don't answer, call Leroy."

"I know, Mom."

"Or you can call-"

"I've got it, Mom!" he laughed. "I have all the phone numbers of the people that will be around you."

"Okay, okay." She held up her hands, smiling. "I'll be home before you leave for school. Love you, kid."

"Love you too, Mom."

XXXXXXX

Regina stepped out of the shower, glorying in the feeling of being freshly cleaned after her long drive from New York. A thick gray robe hung from the bathroom door and she pulled it on over her pajamas, tying it tightly.

Her old bedroom had been a shock. She hadn't lived in Storybrooke since she was eleven and she'd gone off to boarding school. But the bedroom was almost exactly the same as when she left. The shelves were still lined with pictures of her younger self and old textbooks. Her desk was still drawn on, the second drawer on the left still missing a handle. The window seat still looked as comfortable as it had been all those rainy days of her childhood when she wasn't allowed out to play.

She was, however, very glad that Cora had changed the bed. Instead of the twin sized bed she'd had, with horses decorating the blankets, she had a queen size with a plush gray comforter and silken sheets.

Now that she was living here again, she would have to redecorate so that it looked like an adult slept here.

Her feet sank happily into the soft carpet as she crossed to the window seat, sitting daintily on the cushions and running her hand over the window sill. After a moment of peaceful reminiscing, she reached up and unlocked the window, pushing it open. The hustle and bustle of New York was gone, replaced by crickets chirping, rustling trees, and the occasional croak of a frog. It felt good to just relax and enjoy the quiet.

Then she heard a sharp rasping noise. It continued, fluctuating faster and slower, louder and softer. She stood to peer out the window, looking down at the front lawn of 107.

The large group of men from earlier in the day were gone. The short man in the coat was still there, talking to another man over a large blueprint of what they were building. There were only five other men still working on the site, moving around in the light of a dozen or so bright spotlights. But what had gotten Regina's attention was the sound of sandpaper moving along one of the long beams she'd seen being brought in. And it was the blonde in the beanie that was working on it.

She was seated on a stool, wearing work gloves and smoothing a swatch of sandpaper over the beam methodically. A spotlight sat on the beam, pointed at the area the woman was working on. Even from the second floor, Regina could see the light sheen of sweat reflecting on toned arms, despite the chilly night air. One of her eyebrows rose of its own accord and she backed away from the window, shutting it. She glanced at the bedside clock, noting it was nearly ten thirty.

Downstairs, she found her parents still sitting in the living room.

"Darling, come and sit with us! We were just about to watch a movie."

Regina moved to sit beside her father, but paused when she saw her mother's phone light up on the coffee table. She picked it up, frowning at the name on the screen. "Uh, Mother, you have a text from Daddy."

Cora's eyebrows rose and Henry blinked at the device in his daughter's hand. Cora took the phone, sliding to open the message. "Oh, no dear. Henry isn't your father in my phone. He's 'husband'. This Henry is Sheriff Swan's son. He works part-time at Town Hall for me." She read the message quickly, her lips turning down. "Oh dear."

"What is it?"

"It seems Deputy Nolan is at Sheriff Swan's house and needs to speak with her."

"Her?" Regina was surprised. "Your sheriff is a woman?"

Cora nodded, rising. "Yes. And she's next door working on Albert Spencer's new deck. Henry said she isn't answering her phone."

"Oh," Regina said before she could think about it. "The blonde?"

Her mother's smile was a little too knowing for her liking. "Oh, so you've already noticed her?"

She fought the flush that was working its way up her neck. When she'd first come out to her mother, Cora had been a little disappointed. But after a while she changed her mind for unknown reasons and seemed to nominate herself as Regina's personal love-life cheerleader. Any time Regina showed interest in a woman, Cora was hearing wedding bells and knitting 'Hers' and 'Hers' pillows.

"Well, that's perfect. Could you be a dear and go next door to let her know she's needed at home?" Cora dropped back into the couch. "I'm far too tired for all that walking."

The temptation to call her mother's bullshit was strong, but Regina glanced at the phone again. The woman's son was trying to reach her. That was more important than her mother's not-so-subtle attempts to get her to interact with people. She tightened her robe and made her way to the kitchen where she'd hung her jacket earlier on. The porch was dark as she let herself out, buttoning up her coat.

The rasping of sandpaper grew louder as she followed the hedges around the side of the house to 107. Her footsteps slowed as she rounded the corner and the blonde came into view.

Up close, she was thinner than Regina had thought, only subtly curved at the hips. Her left shoulder blade had a few lines of script tattooed across it. Her golden hair was pulled in a loose ponytail at the base of her neck and it waved down to her waist. The muscles in her arms, highlighted by the spotlight, made Regina's mouth feel a little dry. But she shook her head, stopping a few feet behind the woman.

"Excuse me?" she called over the scratching of the sandpaper.

The blonde turned at the sound of her voice. When she saw Regina, she stood quickly, one hand darting up to pull off her beanie and the other running through her hair. Then both met in front of her, holding the beanie. It was a move she'd seen many times in her life, because it was what her father did when he entered a house or when he spoke to a woman. Regina was actually quite charmed by the gesture. And she was completely unprepared for the brilliantly green eyes that the woman blinked at her.

"I'm Regina Mills," Regina said quickly, then stopped. She had nearly forgotten what she came over for and now she was unsure of how to continue.

"Emma Swan," the woman said. She pulled off one of her gloves, dusted her hand on her jeans, and extended it with a smile.

Regina shook the hand, acutely aware of how much rougher the sheriff's hands were than her own.

"You're Cora and Henry's daughter, right?" Emma continued. "The one from New York?"

The brunette blinked. "Ah, yes. That's me." Really? That was all she could think to say?

The sheriff smiled a crooked smile. "I'm sorry, Miss Mills. But everyone knows everyone in Storybrooke and I'm close friends with your parents." She gestured to Regina. "How can I help you?"

Oh, right. Reason for coming over. "Oh, your son. Henry?"

Emma's brows furrowed. "Yes?"

Regina drew herself up, remembering what Cora had told her to relay. "He texted my mother. He said you weren't answering your phone and a deputy is at your house looking for you."

The woman turned quickly to the stool she'd been sitting on and Regina saw a red leather jacket laid over it. The sheriff dug through the pockets and pulled out her phone, frowning at the missed calls and texts. "I never heard it go off." She snatched up the jacket, starting towards the street. A few steps later she stopped, hurrying back to Regina. "I'm sorry," she said, shaking Regina's hand again. "That was rude, just running off. Thank you for telling me. I have to go, but-"

"I understand," Regina waved her away. "Go to your son."

"Thank you again," Emma said. "And welcome to Storybrooke." She flashed a quick grin and hurried away, calling to the short man running the build.

And the blonde was suddenly in an atrocious yellow volkswagon, driving away. And Regina was still standing on her new neighbor's lawn in the middle of the night, a little bemused and wondering just where all of her well-trained speech skills had gone the second green eyes had blinked at her.

XXXXXXX

The yellow bug skidded to a halt in the driveway and Emma was out of it and running as soon as the engine turned off. She threw the door open, glancing around wildly. When she saw Henry sitting at the kitchen island, eyes wide at her sudden entrance, she finally let herself breathe normally. She crossed the room and pulled him into her arms, squeezing until he grunted.

"Mom," he whined. "Why are you crushing me?"

"Because I was scared!" She refused to let him go. "Something's obviously happening and I wasn't here for you. And I should have been. And you better not ever sell drugs. And I'm getting a louder phone first thing in the morning. And-"

"Emma," someone said.

Only then did she realize Ruby was home, still dressed in her work clothes, and her deputy, David Nolan, was standing by the stairs, arms crossed over his broad chest. His blue eyes were glinting happily at the show of affection between mother and son, but his strong jaw was set in a stoic line and he stepped forward quickly when he got her attention. "Emma," he repeated. "There's been a fire."