Chapter Text
“What about this one?”
Henry and Emma had been looking for what to buy for Regina for weeks now. They had found multiple things, but nothing seemed perfect. And it wasn’t enough just to give her an ugly sweater or new tree decorations; that would be insulting. It had to be the best gift a person could imagine. She had to get over all the gifts Emma had given Regina and all the gifts Regina had given Emma.
And the first part seemed like a piece of cake, but the second? The second was almost impossible.
Because somehow, no matter the circumstances, Regina managed to get Emma the perfect present in the family – maybe even in the entire town –, which was always better than the one the year before. Every Christmas, Regina outdid herself, and it killed Emma internally.
What an informal gift Emma gave her every year. Sure, Regina enjoyed it, but one night of exclusive–fucking wasn’t enough. It felt so impersonal and lame; everything Emma wanted to avoid. Plus, the fact that it was every year’s present made the gut-wrenching feeling worse. Or maybe she was doing it competitively, but it didn’t really feel like that. It was more like a sensation of shame, perhaps. Emma felt that a woman as wonderful as her Regina deserved more than she could give.
“Let me see,” Emma said, approaching the table in front of the fireplace with little bounces. Apparently, it was a technique that served to lull the two-month-old that she carried in one arm - yet another one of the perfect presents Regina had given her.
Truth be told, that was the gift Emma appreciated the most, and it wasn’t even for a special occasion. And a lot of people credited just her for quite literally carrying a human being inside of her, but without Regina, it wouldn’t have been possible for them even to have a child of their own. Emma owed her life and more to the fantastic woman she was lucky enough to marry.
Emma sat up and propped little Hope on her lap, freeing one of her hands so she could grasp the tablet. Henry had already selected the item and even tapped the product gallery for Emma to take a closer look.
And it seemed that, finally, they had found the perfect gift.
“This one.”
Henry frowned. Wait, really? Don’t you wanna check mo–”
“Nope,” Emma cut him off. “This is the one.”
But she should’ve known better than to trust her luck by now.
Because five days later, at her front garden, there was not the beautiful, hyperrealistic Christmas statue she had asked for. Instead, there was a four-foot-tall, three-hundred-pound reindeer.
Oh, and it was alive, by the way.