Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The small paperclips were a lot easier to aim for some reason. Which worked out, actually, because it left the larger, rainbow colored ones for the crown she already wore on her head. Emma closed one eye as she stared down the white Styrofoam coffee cup on the opposite desk. It was truly an art form, one that she took seriously. Paperclip basketball, that is. You had to have the right amount of arc, with just enough power to land the clip in the cup. Holding her breath, she let the clip fly and watched dejectedly as it landed a good three inches too far behind the cup. Sighing, she leaned back in her desk chair and stared at the ceiling.

It had been quiet in Storybrooke for far too long. Not that quiet was bad. No, of course not. It was just that it was… suspicious. Quiet just wasn't how Storybrooke worked. Well, at least not after the breaking of, like, five thousand different curses. Okay, maybe only like two or three, but whatever. Magical crap seemed to happen when things got quiet. So Emma Swan, her royal highness, princess of paperclips and sheriff of Storybrooke, was suspicious as hell.

"Princess of Paper Clips," she thought to herself. Yup, it was official. She was certifiably insane. Though, the fact she was at work and it wasn't even her shift should have been the first clue. It was just that baby Neal was going through this super clingy stage, which meant constant irritating crying when anyone other than his mother even so much as looked at him. Which, in turn, turned Snow into an exhausted dragon. Emma had tried to help. She really did. But helping only made him cry worse. Even David wasn't able to hold him for very long. So here she was, literally hiding out at the station, wearing a paper clip crown.

A paper clip crown that matched the paper clip chain that currently extended from one side of the room to the other, held up by duct tape. It had ridiculous paper snowflakes hanging off of it, held up by, of course, more paper clips. It was a labor of love. Or rather, a labor of boredom, started about two weeks ago. About the same time she realized she had pretty much moved into the station.

She kept that quiet, of course. Her parents thought she was spending her evenings with Killian. She has perfectly fine with letting them keep believing that, even though she knew she'd have to fess up sooner or later.

She suspected Henry knew, though. She couldn't really hide anything from the kid. He had her super-sleuth genes, and Regina's habit of minding everyone else's business but her own. Or maybe that came from Snow? Whatever. Either way, to his credit, he never said anything. Ever since Robin Hood left six weeks prior, they had a silent agreement that he'd live back home with Regina full-time. It worked out for the best. Regina wasn't left completely alone to wallow in self-pity, and the poor kid wasn't subjected to Charming hell. At his age, he really needed his own space. Hell, at thirty-ish, she needed her own space. It wasn't as if she wasn't looking, of course. It was just that there wasn't a whole heck of a lot available to choose from. The town was built for a curse that froze time. Regina didn't exactly plan for a growing population.

Yawning loudly, she picked her feet up on her desk and crossed them at her ankles. She folded her hands across her stomach and closed her eyes.

Not like she was on duty, and not like anything was going to happen, anyway. A nap couldn't hurt while it was nice and quiet.

"Really? You could have at least changed clothes."

Emma only opened one eye to glare at her son. "I did change clothes. I just happen to own a lot of t-shirts and jeans. I didn't know that was illegal." She watched as her son spun the other desk chair around and propped his own feet up on the desk. If his mother would walk in and see him, she'd have smacked them both across the head. The thought actually made her smile. He was definitely her kid, too.

"What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were hanging out with Nick after school?"

Henry shrugged, not looking up from his cell phone. "He's grounded, and his dad has to speak at the town meeting tonight. One I'm pretty sure you're supposed to be going to, you know." He did spare her a fake glare at this, before turning his attention back to Angry Birds.

Emma shrugged and closed her eyes again. "They're boring as hell, and David likes feeling important. It's a win-win situation. I don't have to listen to your mom drone on and on about whatever mayorly crap she talks about, and David gets to feel like Deputy Badass, telling the good people of Storybrooke all about the latest kittens he's saved from trees."

"Nobody saves kittens from trees," Henry muttered, watching the green pigs explode.

"Exactly. He makes half the sh-... crap he says up so your mom doesn't stop funding our paper clip supply. So, really, what's the point of me going?"

Sighing dramatically as if preparing to explain something mundane to a small child, Henry sat up in his seat and set his phone down on the desk. "Look, I'm just saying, maybe it'd be good for you to get out and socialize a little bit. Talk to other people." He made a show of looking around at the office's decor. "Be normal, or something."

Emma threw the last of her paper clips at his face. "Shut up. I do socialize. I'm the Sheriff. It's my job to talk to people. I was just at Granny's like an hour ago. I talked to, like, four people there."

Henry huffed and slouched down in his seat. "You do not socialize. I'm not even sure you talk to Hook anymore. You're supposedly dating, aren't you? But I haven't even seen you together in ages, other than when you literally pass each other in the street."

Emma didn't really have a response to that, so she remained silent. There was no use lying to the kid, but she didn't really want to admit the truth either.

Henry watched her quietly for a moment, deciding on his next move. He had a feeling his hunch about her behavior lately was correct, but he had to be slick to find out. "Look," he hesitated. He waited for her to meet his eyes before continuing. "If you won't go for your own sanity, go in support of my mom."

Emma rolled her eyes and dug through the top desk drawer for David's not-so-secret stash of mini Snickers. She tossed one at the kid before opening her own. "Your mom doesn't need my support. She's a queen, remember? I'm sure I'm one of the last people she'd rather see anyway. In case you forgot, I kinda sent her "one true love" soulmate-person literally packing across the town line with his undead wife." She fumbled with the wrapper of her candy, not even having taken a bite of it yet. "I'm just another person who screwed her over. That's why… well, that's why she just stopped talking to me."

"That's not really why, and you know it," Henry argued.

Emma chuckled. "Yeah. Right, kid. The literal queen of ultimate grudges?" She knew it was an unfair statement, but it was also true. "She probably has a picture of me taped over a dartboard in her office. And that'd be a fairly minor reaction from her, considering that when my mother betrayed her and her true love, she cursed an entire realm of people"

"Mom, I'm being serious," Henry insisted, using the title as an advantage. He sighed in frustration and leaned his elbows on his knees. It was moments like these when he sort of understood his other mom's frustration with the sheriff. "Mom doesn't really have many friends, right? Like, I'm not really sure she has any real friends. Except for you. You were like her real friend for a while, right? So… well, yeah, she lost Robin. He was supposed to be her fairy dust true love and all... And she hasn't been the same since he left. But I don't think it's just because of Robin. You know how she shuts people out when she's depressed and feeling defeated."

"I know," Emma sighed, knowing all too well how it affected Henry. "You're right, and I'm certainly glad she's not shutting you out anymore. I just wish I could change things. I know I told her I wouldn't do things differently if I had known, but I'm not sure how much that is true. She was right. Marion was already dead. I shouldn't have meddled in the past, but I did. What's done is done now, and I've got to deal with the consequences."

"You can try being her friend again," Henry stated simply. He shrugged his shoulders and motioned towards the door with his hand. "The townspeople still aren't exactly her biggest fans. Even though they recognize she's changed, at least enough to let her be mayor again, they still can't forget what she did to them. She's why they even live in Storybrooke to begin with. She probably hates these meetings even more than you do, but she has to go. She has to go and listen to all the people tell her how she's not doing a good enough job in some way, but nobody is there on her side. It's just her against everybody else. She'd never admit it, but I know it bothers her. I can see it on her face every time. And okay… maybe she is still a little miffed at you. Maybe she does sometimes purposely ignore your text messages…"

"I knew it!" Emma slammed her hand against the desk, making Henry jump in surprise. She pointed at him accusingly. "And that's exactly why I gave up weeks ago." She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. "I knew it," she repeated, this time to herself. Not that it made her feel any better, if she was honest. Being rejected generally brought back way too many childhood memories. Especially when it was by someone she trusted and considered a friend.

Henry glanced at the ceiling as if asking some unseen entity for patience. "Yeah, okay. So what? Her reaction to people pissing her off hasn't always been the most mature."

"Language," Emma warned him.

He merely rolled his eyes before continuing. "If it helps, she got even more depressed when you stopped texting her. I think it somehow made her feel better that you cared enough to try. So when you finally gave up, she just… got even sadder. I'd catch her checking her phone, then trying not to look disappointed."

"She was probably just hoping Robin would change his mind."

Henry gave her a look that clearly showed what he thought of her intelligence.

Emma chewed on her bottom lip as she tried to gauge how truthful he was being. He had a way of telling half-truths. A trait he definitely had in common with his adoptive mother. However, there was nothing but pure honesty written on his face. But did what he had said even really matter? She didn't play games, and she didn't like to be played. But… maybe it wasn't a game. Maybe it really was just the way Regina was handling the loss. Shutting herself off from the rest of the world is exactly Regina's MO.

But still… did she have to be such a bitch? The first few days after Robin left, she had seemed fine. Sad, of course, but not completely despondent. They shared shots at the diner that night, and for the next few days, things went about almost as usual. But then, almost suddenly it seemed, things changed. Emails between the sheriff's office and the mayor's office, which previously had a more casual, even friendly tone, became strictly business professional. Texts about seeing Henry became terse. Emma had no idea what she had done, but the rejection hurt.

"Ok, fine. So you think me going to this stupid town meeting is going to make everything all better?"

"No, of course not," Henry answered. "But it's what a friend would do…"

Emma sighed. "Fine. I'll go, sit in the back, and glare at anyone being mean to her. Does that work?"

Henry cringed. "Or you can actually do your job and present all the end-of-year stats my mom has been complaining you haven't finished yet for three weeks."

Emma opened a drawer and pulled out a purple file folder. She dropped it on her desk with a cocky look on her face. "It is done. It's been done for over a week. I've just been enjoying her snarky emails too much to give it to her." She blushed a little, realizing she had just admitted snarky contact was better than no contact from the mayor.

Henry opened the folder and looked through the information. "This is actually pretty good. And we still have a couple of hours… we can put a presentation together with this!"

"I don't do presentations," Emma said, shaking her head and crossing her arms. "Back of the room, glaring at people. That's what I do."

Henry imitated her posture and gave her his best "not-too-pleased-mayor" expression. It was close enough to the actual thing to make Emma squirm in her seat.

"Wouldn't the absolutely shocked expression on my mom's face be worth it, though?"

...

It was 6:55, and Regina was already irritated. Three of the dwarves had her cornered, complaining about something or other she stopped listening to in the first 30 seconds of their rant. While she had her blank "I don't really care, but I can't show that I don't care" face on, her ears were busy listening to conversations around her.

Stupid, menial conversations. She glanced at the clock again, but it had only moved one minute. She spotted the Charmings in the corner of the room, Snow holding Neal on her hip, swaying back and forth as she and her idiot were husband engaged in cheerful conversation with Aurora and her spawn.

Must be nice to have pleasant conversations at these things, she thought. "Sure, I'll take care of it," she muttered, waving a hand at the dwarves, dismissing them. She had no idea what she had just agreed to take care of, but she didn't really care either way. Something about back roads or whatever. They were dwarves, couldn't they just fix it themselves?

She walked around the head table and took her seat before glancing at the clock again, and then staring at David. Eventually he must have felt her eyes on him, because he looked her way and met her gaze. With a raised eyebrow she communicated that she wanted to get the meeting started, but something else suddenly caught his attention. She followed his gaze to the double doors in the back of the room.

The room almost instantly quieted as Emma Swan walked in. Dressed in a black skirt, knee-high boots, a white blouse, and her usual red leather jacket. She walked down the center aisle as if she had no idea everyone was staring at her. And chances were high, Regina thought, that the clueless woman probably didn't. Through her peripheral vision she saw her son sneak into the room behind her and scurry over to sit next to his grandparents, but her eyes never wavered from the sheriff.

Emma didn't come to meetings, leaving the "job" up to her deputized father to deal with. Her showing up and looking somewhat put together was definitely something new, and the whole town seemed to notice. The blonde woman finally looked up from the floor and met Regina's gaze with a small smile.

Emma was nervous, Regina thought.

Emma walked right up to the front of the room and around the table, taking the seat to Regina's left, normally occupied by her father. She tossed her freshly curled blonde hair over her shoulder and crossed her legs, attempting to look calm and nonchalant. Regina glanced back at the Charmings, noting the smug look on her son's face, and the somewhat shocked expression on both of his grandparents' faces.

Huh. So David had no idea about this, either. This could be interesting.

...

The board members should definitely be called bored members, because damn… they didn't know how to shut up. Emma's left leg was shaking in pent up nervous energy, the swivel chair she had been swinging back and forth on having been promptly stopped by the mayor next to her.

The mayor, who had yet to do much more than that to acknowledge her existence.

Emma sighed, and absentmindedly drew random shapes on the table with her finger. Henry said coming to this thing was supposed to help somehow. He had sworn that he knew his mother well enough to know that this is what she needed to do to "be her friend" again or something.

She realized she was probably on the verge of pouting, so she made sure to school her face into something resembling professionalism and turned her gaze back to the speaker.

She stole a glance at the stoic mayor who was busy writing down important information from the speaker. Or… wait.

Emma nonchalantly leaned closer to the Regina, acting as if she was simply adjusting herself in her seat. She stole a glance at the paper the older woman was writing on (and purposefully blocking with her arms) and grinned.

Important notes? Hardly. Her paper was covered with a myriad of geometric doodles. There were hardly any words on the page at all.

So… the mayor wasn't paying any attention, either. Maybe this was her chance.

Emma opened her own notepad Henry had insisted she take to "look smart and prepared", and scribbled a quick note down on it before sliding it closer to the mayor.

Regina stared down at it, and for a long moment, Emma thought she was just going to ignore it. But then… she picked up Emma's pen left-handed and drew a somewhat messy question mark.

Emma pulled the notepad back to her and re-read her original note.

So, I have a problem I was hoping you could help me with.

She took the question mark to mean that Regina was waiting, and willing to at least read it. Emma started writing quickly, not wanting to irritate the woman by being slow. She slyly slid the notepad back and waited.

Regina forced herself to count to ten before she looked down at the notepad, purposely making the blonde woman wait. What she read made her breath catch.

Well, my best friend decided to stop answering my calls and texts. She's recently been through some rough times, and all I wanted to do was be there for her as a friend, but she has continuously rejected every attempt I've made.

Best friend, huh? Right. The woman was really laying it on thick. Regina scribbled a response.

Maybe you simply annoy the hell out of her. I can tell you that I truly understand her pain.

Emma's lips quirked as she attempted to hide a smile.

Or maybe she's just being a bitch and shutting everyone out. It's pretty typical of her, after all.

The current speaker finally finished to mild applause, and the next old guy stood to speak. Neither the sheriff nor the mayor cared what he had to say. Emma was nervously clicking her pen, while Regina stared at the notepad in silent contemplation. Had she gone too far?

It was several long minutes before the notepad was slid back in front of Emma.

She sounds like a terrible friend then. Maybe you should just give up and move on already. Find someone else to annoy

Emma wasn't dumb. She could sense the true emotion behind the words. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Regina intently watching the speaker, but she bet the older woman wasn't hearing a word he said. She took her time writing back, wanting to make sure she used all the right words. When she was finally satisfied with what felt like a mini novel, she slid the notepad back over and tilted her chair back in pretend nonchalance.

Regina had begun to feel nervous at how long it had taken Emma to respond. She laced her fingers in her lap to keep them from twitching, and did her best to pay attention to the man speaking. When she noticed the notepad being moved back in front of her, she had to consciously keep from sighing in relief. She blinked in surprised at how much the woman had written, and pulled the notepad onto her lap to read.

First, I don't just give up on people. Especially people I consider family, which until the last couple of years, counted as a total of zero people. It's part of that whole being the savior thing, and part just being typical, persistently irritating, Emma Swan. Besides, she's actually a fairly decent friend. She's the only person who truly understands me. And even though I annoy the hell out of her, she still stands by me to help save the day from magical monsters. Oh, and let's not forget raising my son better than I ever could. So yeah, she's not someone I'm about to just forget and move on. That's why I was hoping you might have some advice on what I could do to get her to talk to me again.

Regina read the note several times, almost not believing the words on the page. She blinked, trying to remove the stinging from her eyes. She wanted to be angry at the woman. She wanted to blame her for Robin; to keep using her as a scapegoat. But how could she, with a guilt trip like this? And the most irritating part? She was positive Emma Swan meant every word.

Surely, had someone asked, she would have counted the sheriff as a friend. At this point, it didn't seem like there would be much argument to the contrary. Had they not proven their ability to work together on friendly terms time and again? Or, at the very least, their loyalty? Trust? But she had never really thought about actual friendship much. She had Henry, and… well, she had Robin, and her busy life as mayor. There wasn't much of a need for "friends" in her life… was there? Would she even really know what to do with a friend like that? And what the hell was the woman poking her for now?

She turned to glare at Emma, who was obviously glancing back and forth between her and the balding man, who was also staring back at her quizzically. Shit. Everyone was staring at her. The room had gone silent, and it became clear they were waiting for her to speak. She had absolutely no idea what was going on, so deep in thought had she been during the man's presentation. She didn't even have a clue what to say to fake it.

Shit.

"Well…"

"If the mayor wants my opinion, which I'm sure she doesn't, about the building of a new section of housing for the merry men, I would - "

"You're right, Ms. Swan, I don't really want your opinion," Regina interrupted haughtily, but she briefly brushed her knuckles against the back of the hand resting on the armrest of the sheriff's chair, out of view of the audience, in a silent gesture of gratitude for coming to her rescue. "Yes," she continued, this time to the bald man… what the hell was his name? Whatever. "We certainly can't keep having that many people hiding out in the woods like a bunch of gypsies. Bring me the plans to review next week."

The man nodded hastily and shuffled back to his seat. Glancing over the agenda, the mayor cleared her throat. "Well, then. That leaves us with the sheriff's report, and then final open questions." Regina turned in her seat to stare at Emma, an unreadable expression plastered on her face.

Emma took a deep breath and stood up. She smoothed her skirt and walked over to the podium which held an ancient laptop whose fan was as loud as Mary Margaret's 80's vacuum cleaner. Connecting her Iron Man flash drive, courtesy of her son, she opened her powerpoint presentation file. Henry had actually been surprised she knew how to use the program. Almost insulted, Emma had to remind him that she was the only one in town who had grown up with computers and Microsoft at school. The rest of them had been stuck in 1983.

Speaking of which, was it going to take another 30 years for this damn file to open? How much ram did this thing have? Had they even upgraded since Windows 98? Huffing in frustration, she was glad the audience was taking the time to stretch and mingle, rather than stare at her expectantly. Though… yup. The mayor was certainly doing just that.

Shaking her head a little, she was finally able to start the slideshow. When the audience quieted down, she began talking.

"This is an overview of the crime rates for the past two years. As you can see, petty theft complaints and traffic accidents declined over the last six months…"

Regina was nothing if not impressed with the sheriff's presentation. She was a bit irritated that it was quite obvious the woman had been sitting on a complete report, but she ignored that fact for the time being, choosing to focus on the rarely-used screen behind her. On a particularly mathematically complex slide, Regina spared a glance towards her son in the back of the room, who met her eyes with a smirk and shook his head.

So. Supposedly, Henry didn't help her. Which meant either her son was lying, or Emma wasn't as inept at her job as she assumed.

She looked down at the notepad and reread Emma's last note to her again. She picked up her pen, and after a moment's hesitation, began to write back.

The room erupted in applause as Emma finished, her cheeks flushed from embarrassment and relief at finally being finished. She took her seat again next to the mayor, steadfastly staring down at the table and letting her curls fall around her face.

"Thank you, Sheriff Swan," Regina said to the crowd, "for that enlightening presentation." She leaned over to the sheriff, this time whispering in the other woman's ear. "If that report isn't on my desk by tomorrow morning, I'm…"

She was cut off by the blonde placing a purple folder in front of her on the table. "Sorry," she muttered, without looking at the mayor.

Surprised, Regina turned her attention back to the crowd. "I suppose we'll conclude this evening with the open forum. Does anyone wish to speak tonight?"

This was the mayor's least favorite part of the evening. Normally, at least a dozen people would rush to line up. The forum could take as long as an hour sometimes, forcing her to listen to every petty little complaint the townspeople could come up with. But this time, however, nobody moved.

"Really?" she asked skeptically. "Nobody wants to speak up tonight?" She looked at the dwarves in the front row suspiciously, usually the first people in line. Today, though, they all avoided her gaze. "Well, then. If no one else has anything to say, I'll move to close this meeting at 8:17 pm."

"I second that," Emma muttered, only accidentally following correct parliamentary procedure.

"All right, then. Have a good evening, everyone," Regina said loudly as people started to stand and file out of the room.

"So," Emma said, swiveling her chair to face the mayor and speak to her directly. "Before Mary Margaret manages to fight her way through the rest of the crowd and go all proud momma on me… you, me, and Henry at Granny's for dinner?"

"Emma!" Snow shouted predictably, rushing up to the table. "We didn't know you planned on presenting tonight! You were so wonderful up there!"

Emma smiled at her mother, but turned her attention back to the mayor without responding. She raised an eyebrow in question.

Regina held her gaze for a long moment, obviously torn. Finally, with a quick nod, she gathered up her briefcase and stood up. "Thanks for keeping an eye on Henry," she said to Snow, before walking around the table and heading towards the back of the room where her son was still sitting in the back corner, his phone plugged into the wall outlet as he tapped away, oblivious to his surroundings.

"Emma?"

"Yeah, sorry," Emma said, shaking herself out of her daze. She picked up her notepad and stood up. She noticed the new writing on it, but tucked it under her arm to read later. "It was Henry's idea. You know these things aren't normally my thing."

"Well you should definitely come more often," her mother replied, walking with her towards the door where David was waiting with her baby brother. "I think your presence intimidates some of the bigger whiners here," she said in a much quieter voice. "Not that Regina isn't intimidating enough, but they respect you as the savior. I think that kept a lot of people quiet tonight, and thank goodness. I wasn't looking forward to a long night here."

"Maybe," Emma replied, seeing the mayor and her son waiting patiently by the door. She smiled at them before turning back to her mother. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

"Do you want to come over for dinner? Neil's been sleeping a lot better these last few days…"

Emma gave her a tight-lipped smile. "I've actually got plans at Granny's tonight, but maybe tomorrow?" she amended when she saw the hurt look on her mother's face.

"Sure! I'll make your favorite," Mary Margaret literally beamed. "Why don't you bring Killian?" she suggested.

Emma winced and rubbed the back of her neck. "Uh, he's fixing something or other on his ship I think, but we'll see." They caught up with David and Neil, and after a few hugs and a kiss on her brother's head, she left them to find her son and the mayor.

...

Regina expected the diner to be busy, but she wasn't prepared for it to be completely packed. "Does no one in this town know how to cook?" she looked around disapprovingly.

"It's always busy after a town meeting," Emma said, as if it should be obvious. "Don't worry, I got us covered." She placed her hand on the mayor's back and gently led them to an empty back booth. "I texted Ruby to keep one open for us. She was more than willing to oblige the sheriff and the mayor," Emma said with a grin, as she slid in across from them.

Henry distributed the menus and opened his up. "Can I have a cheeseburger tonight?"

"Yup."

"Absolutely not."

His mothers stared each other down from across the table. Henry hid behind his menu, mentally taking a bet on who was going to win. He sighed, and grudgingly started looking over the healthier sandwiches.

"It's my night with him," Emma argued.

"We haven't shared custody in months, and he's my son," Regina countered, but she knew it was a weak comeback by the look on the irritating blonde's face. "Okay fine, our son, but I'd like him to live to see his twenties."

Emma rolled her eyes and picked up her own menu. "Whatever you say. Are you getting bacon on it, kid?" she asked, ignoring the literal daggers the older woman was shooting at her with her eyes.

Henry peeked out over his menu, glancing back and forth between his mothers. Emma had an evil smirk on her face, while Regina's jaw was clenching and unclenching.

"Um, well… I suppose tomato and lettuce would be healthier."

A frazzled looking waitress appeared at their table and they ordered, Emma making sure to order double bacon on her own cheeseburger, with en extra side order of fries, and the largest chocolate milkshake they had.

"You eat like a child," the mayor admonished.

"Don't act like you're not going to eat half my fries, Madam Cobb Salad."

"Could you not have at least ordered water? Surely your body is going to need it after consuming that much sodium."

"I did order water, because I know you and Henry will drink most of my shake, too."

Regina scoffed and unrolled her silverware. "My son will not be drinking ice cream for dinner, Ms. Swan."

Henry was pretending to focus on his phone while he listened to the bickering beside him. He had been extremely surprised that his mom had accepted the invitation to dinner to begin with, but now he was even more taken aback by the banter between the two women. Sure, his goal was to help mend their friendship, but to sit and listen to them, it didn't sound like anything needed mending at all. Well, considering for them that arguing had always been what they enjoyed doing most together, anyway.

It suddenly grew quiet, and Henry realized too late that someone had asked him a question. He looked up at two sets of eyes staring at him. "Uh, what?"

"The correct term is 'pardon'," Regina corrected. She took the phone from his hands and slid it into her purse. "Emma asked you if you were still going out with David on Saturday for your sword lessons."

"Oh, yeah… yes," he corrected, nodding enthusiastically. "Grandma said she was going to teach me how to use her bow, too. She said Emma sucked at it, and she hoped at least some of her genes passed down to me."

Emma looked thoroughly offended. "I do not suck at it!"

"Yes, you do," mother and son responded simultaneously.

Emma glared at Henry. "Traitor," she muttered, before unrolling her own silverware with an epic pout on her face.

"So how's life at the Charming residence? Is Neil still going through his attachment phase?"

Emma gave Henry's leg a swift kick under the table in warning when it looked like he was about to open his mouth. "Fabulous," she said sarcastically. "And yes. It's like my own personal hell there. I've looked at a few places, but nothing is quite big enough."

The waitress returned with their food, clearly having given their order priority over the other patrons still waiting. Emma placed the extra order of fries in the center of the table, alongside the gigantic chocolate milkshake. She swiped a few extra straws from the waitress' apron without her even noticing and stuck three in the shake.

Regina watched as her son liberally squirted ketchup all over his fries in slight disgust. "Well, I might be able to help," she offered, turning her attention back to the blonde. "I may have an in or two I can use to get you a suitable place. I can't have my son staying with you in some tiny shack somewhere."

Both Henry and Emma looked at her in surprise. Going back to their shared custody arrangement hadn't actually crossed their minds, so the fact Regina had brought it up on her own came as somewhat of a shock.

'"Uh, thanks," Emma said, taking the bottle of ketchup from Henry. "I'd really appreciate it." Just as she was about to douse her own fries in the red gold, the bells above the diner door chimed, and she absentmindedly glanced up to see who had come in.

Regina, who had taken a bite of her cobb salad and was busy chewing, narrowed her eyes at the suddenly sick-looking woman sitting across from her. She quickly swallowed. "Emma?" When the woman didn't respond, she turned in her seat to follow the woman's gaze.

Killian Jones had walked in and was standing at the counter, a tall brunette woman she hardly recognized holding on to his arm with a wide grin. He said something, and the woman laughed, playfully slapping him on the chest before leaning in and whispering something in his ear.

Regina slowly turned back around in her seat, noticing both her son and his birth mother absently picking at their food.

"So… anyone want to enlighten me?" she asked.

Henry looked at Emma, who simply shrugged and shoved a fry into her mouth. Regina waited patiently, watching as the woman chewed and swallowed. "It's exactly what it looks like. Killian and I broke up, he moved on. End of story." She glanced at Henry, who was watching her intently. "Sorry I didn't fess up, kid."

Henry shrugged and pulled the milkshake towards him. "I kind of already guessed anyway, remember?"

"When did all this happen?" Regina asked incredulously, surprised her son hadn't said a word to her about his suspicions. But then again... she had pretty much been doing her best to ignore the sheriff's existence for quite a while.

"A few weeks ago," Emma replied, unable to keep herself from glancing back at the pirate. A good many of the patrons were now staring at the couple, the woman nearly cackling at what were probably really dumb jokes. "Please don't say anything to Mary Margaret. I'm not quite ready to field her hundred questions and attempts to 'fix' us or something."

"Hey Henry! Come sit with us!" All three of them turned to see Nick and a few other of Henry's friends sitting at a table, their own parents sitting elsewhere in the diner socializing together.

"May I go, moms?" Henry asked, glancing back and forth between his two parents.

"Sure, Henry," Regina replied, standing up to let him slide out of the booth. She watched him carry his plate over to the other table before taking her seat again. She picked up her fork and pushed a few lettuce leaves around her plate, the silence between her and the sheriff growing awkward.

"Excuse me," Emma said, sliding out of the booth and heading straight for the restroom. Regina sighed and pulled out her compact mirror from her purse. Pretending to check her makeup, she stealthily spied on the pirate behind her. She grimaced as she watched him nuzzle the new woman's neck. He certainly seemed to move on fast.

She put the mirror away and stared at the empty seat in front of her. She didn't feel pity for Emma Swan, but she did feel bad about the relationship ending, even if she despised the dirty pirate herself. Even worse, and somewhat surprising to her, she felt guilty for not being there for the woman like she had been there for her when Robin left.

She spied the notepad Emma had at the town meeting sitting on the table. She grabbed it and fished a pen out of her purse. Tearing off the sheet with their previous notes to each other, she folded it up and shoved it in her purse. Quickly writing a new note to the woman, she replaced the notepad on the other side of the table and stood up, leaving a few bills on the table. With a quick word to Henry to have his other mother drop him off at home, she walked out of the diner, but not without making eye contact with the pirate and giving him her most evil death glare. He swallowed hard.

Emma returned to an empty table, but she wasn't really bothered by it. She was secretly kind of glad she wouldn't have to talk about her break up with Killian. At least, not in the middle of the diner, anyway. Nor did she want to spend their time with petty small talk. Regina agreeing to join them for dinner was a start, and she was glad Henry had suggested it. She picked up her notepad and opened it up, surprised to see their meeting notes missing, and a new one in its place.

Don't give up.

Emma smiled, though she couldn't help but wonder what the original response she had never had a chance to read said.

Chapter Text

"I told you not to drink the rest of that milkshake," Emma admonished, as she drove down the nearly empty street.

"Do you have to play the 'I told you so' card?" Henry whined. He was curled up on the passenger seat, his arms wrapped around his stomach, and a light sheen of sweat beaded on his forehead.

"Of course I do. That's what moms are for." She pulled up to the mayor's mansion and turned off the car. "Come on, straighten up. If your mom knows you're sick she'll kill me." She reached over and opened the glove box. She pulled out a blue-capped bottle and handed it to her son.

"Bottoms up, kid."

Henry took the bottle and read the label. "Ew. You're a freak. Who keeps a bottle of Kaopectate in their car?"

"Have you seen what I eat on a daily basis?" Emma asked him. "I learned the hard way that you hit 30 and your stomach can no longer take the abuse."

Henry took a deep breath and swallowed what he guessed was a dose of the chalky liquid that was most definitely not "vanilla". Grimacing, he wiped his mouth and handed the bottle back. "That tastes like some sort of death potion my mother cooked up."

Emma laughed as she climbed out of the car. "You certainly do get your dramatics from her."

"I take offense to that," Regina said from the doorway. Emma looked up to see the woman dressed in silk pajamas and a robe wrapped tight around her. She stopped on the porch in front of her and ruffled Henry's hair as he walked past his other mother and straight into the house, most likely making a beeline for the bathroom.

"Sorry, I didn't realize it was so late," Emma apologized.

"It's not that late, it's only 9:30," Regina answered, before looking down at her feet. "I'm sorry I left. I had to… well… "

"It's okay," Emma shrugged. "I got to spy on our kid with his friends. I didn't realize they were all a bunch of super nerds."

Regina chuckled and glanced behind her. "Well, that…" she turned back around to face the blonde. "You can't blame on me. A super nerd, I am not."

"Oh, and you think he gets it from me?" Emma said, pointing at her own chest with her thumb.

"You drive a yellow bug."

Emma turned around to look at the vehicle in question. "I like yellow. I… stole it. Don't insult my car!" She huffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "You'll hurt its feelings."

"I rest my case," Regina said, lifting her hand to accentuate her point.

"Yeah whatever," Emma muttered in feigned offense. It was pointless to even fight the smile that was threatening to mimic the one on the mayor's lips, but she looked away to try to hide it anyway. "I'm off tomorrow. I can pick up Henry after school and keep him occupied until you're done at the office, if you want.

Regina nodded and leaned against the doorway, crossing her arms against the cold winter air. "I'll probably have to work late tomorrow. Perhaps… he could stay with you for the night."

Ugh, dammit. Now she was going to have to actually stay at her parents'. But it was a Friday, and maybe Regina just wanted a little personal time. Emma could certainly understand that. "I'd like that. I'm sure my parents would love it." Henry was going to kill her. He loved his grandparents, but he enjoyed the screaming baby about as much as she did.

Regina smiled in relief, glad the conversation wasn't as strained as she expected. "Good, it's settled then. I'll have him pack before he goes to bed."

Emma was already halfway across town when she got a text message.

THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME FOR ALL MY HELP?

She waited until she was parked outside the sheriff's station before responding.

What was that I heard about wanting an Xbox for Christmas?

GOOD NIGHT, MOM. I LOVE YOU.

Emma chuckled as she tossed a wool blanket over the jail cell mattress. Maybe her parenting skills weren't totally nonexistent after all.

...

"Isn't it just so charming!"

Emma spared a weak smile for her mother, as she was lead by the hand through the dusty apartment. It truly wasn't all that bad, but "charming" would be the last adjective she'd use to describe it. It was plenty big enough for her and Henry when he stayed with her, with two bedrooms and two full bathrooms. The kitchen was outdated, but functional. She could overlook the ugly checkered linoleum, and it wasn't like she did all that much home cooking anyway. There was a basic table with four chairs, an old but still working fridge, and that's really all she needed. Microwaves were cheap.

The living room was rather large as apartments go, and came furnished with an old couch and coffee table. David would bring her bed from the apartment, and she would just get a new one for Henry. She could make it work.

"It'll work," Emma said. She peered out the living room window and down to the main street. "How did you find something this big with rent so cheap?"

Mary Margaret was dusting off the coffee table with her hand, but it only served to stir the dust into the stale air. She sneezed. "Oh excuse me," she sniffled. "Regina found it. She asked me to come see it for her since she couldn't leave the office. So you like it?" She grinned enthusiastically.

"Sure. It's better than the places I had found, and I don't have many other options so… yeah. I'll take it."

"Great!" her mother squealed, literally clapping her hands. "I just knew you'd love it! Your father went ahead and put in the deposit for you, so you already have the keys!" She held up a keychain with several silver keys lightly clanking together.

Emma just stared at her in shock, more than a bit taken aback by her parents' initiative. "Uh…" was all she could manage to say. She wasn't sure if she should be grateful or offended by their enthusiasm for her to move out officially.

"We should probably just get you a new bed, too," Mary Margaret continued, spinning around the room slowly, taking in the faded wallpaper. "Perhaps… a larger one?" The grin on her face gave away what she was not so subtly implying.

"Uh… yeah you know what? I'm thinking the one I have will do just fine for now." Emma plucked the keys from her mother's fingers and kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you," she said honestly. "You and daddy didn't have to do this."

Mary Margaret literally glowed at her use of the diminutive. "I know, but we wanted to. We… well, we missed out on giving you so much. It's what parents do, you know?"

"Yeah, sure," Emma said, not really knowing at all. Except for maybe her own brief experience as a parent. Speaking of… "Shit! I need to run. I promised I'd pick up the kid from school."

"David is getting him," Mary Margaret supplied. She patted a cushion on the couch and got a face-full of dust. "They're going last minute Christmas shopping."

Emma had stopped on her way to the door, and was now fiddling with the keys in her hand. "Does Regina know?"

Mary Margaret shrugged. "It was her idea. Now, what do you think of a Christmas tree in front of the window here?"

...

Regina was sitting at her desk, signing what felt like the ten thousandth paper. It was after 7 already, and she was feeling the effects of a long day. Her free hand held her head up as she signed, marking comments in the margins as she saw fit. She let out a yawn, not even bothering to stifle it. Blinking a few times to clear her eyes, she flipped the paper over and started reading the next in a large stack.

The sound of a door shutting outside her office made her jump, but she ignored it and went back to reading the document in front of her. It was just the night shift custodian.

Her office door swung open without a knock. Perhaps in a previous life she would have fried the person immediately. But the janitor probably had no idea she was even still there. Most of the lights were off, and she was reading by the softer glow of a few lamps. Not even bothering to look up from her papers, she greeted the older man casually. "Evening, Mr. Charles."

As a response, she received a heavy plastic bag dropped on her desk.

"For real?" Emma said, looking around the office. "If it wasn't for your car still outside, I wouldn't have known you were in here. Thought maybe you were feeling nostalgic and working by candlelight or something."

It took Regina a long moment before she realized she was still staring at the bag on her desk in shock. She cleared her throat and gave the woman a disdainful look. "Don't you know how to knock?"

Emma shrugged, and plopped ungracefully down into one of the chairs opposite her desk with her own plastic bag. "I had to go outside Storybrooke today to order some new furniture," she explained, ignoring the rhetorical question. "I thought maybe you'd like to try some new sort of fancy shrubbery from the Great Beyond. It sounded boring and healthy enough. Dammit!" she cursed, struggling with something in her hands.

"Is that a root beer?" Regina asked.

"Two. Figured you could use a break, but I also thought they were twist offs. You're going to have to open these."

"With what?"

"Oh, I don't know," Emma said sarcastically, holding out the bottles. "Maybe you can just pry them off with your teeth."

"I'm a queen, and a bit more refined than that," Regina sassed, but she took the bottles anyway. "You do have magic, too, you know."

"Yeah, well, if I tried they'd probably explode in my face."

Regina easily twisted the caps off and handed a bottle back. "I'm still failing to see where that's a negative. But once again, if you bothered to study your craft…" She pulled the container out of the bag and opened it to reveal a salad covered in chicken, almonds and cranberries. It smelled wonderfully fresh, and her stomach actually growled loudly. If the sheriff heard it though, she made no comment. "Well, it definitely beats Granny's" she relented, before pulling out the vinaigrette dressing and plastic fork. "Why aren't you at home with Henry?"

Emma shrugged as she pulled the tomatoes off what looked like a grilled ham and cheese panini. "He hangs out with me at the station all the time. I thought it would be good for him to spend some quality time with his grandparents. And since I knew you were going to be here subsisting on apple cider and Tic Tacs… "

Regina was unconvinced. "So you left him there to suffer alone."

Emma pouted. "He's not suffering. They're getting ready for tomorrow. Something about learning how to make arrows."

Recognizing a losing battle when she saw one, Regina changed the subject. "I heard you took the apartment. I assume that meant it was acceptable?

"I wasn't really given much of a choice in the matter. Apparently I'm getting literally kicked from the nest. But it's not bad. She said it was charming."

Regina scrunched up her nose. "That means it's atrocious. I can find you another place."

"No, no… it's fine." Emma shook her head. "Really. I super appreciate your help. There's nothing in the apartment that a little paint and decontamination can't fix."

Regina had a forkful of spinach halfway to her mouth and paused. "Decontamination?"

Emma chuckled. "I might be exaggerating… a little." They chatted while they ate, mostly about Henry and how excited he was to decorate a new room. They avoided any major topics, choosing to keep the conversation light. It still didn't feel quite like it used to between them, but the atmosphere was relaxed and easy.

"Well, I guess I'll get back to Henry, before I owe him a new car on top of an Xbox," Emma said, as she packed up their trash back into the bag. "I really just wanted to stop by and thank you for your help with the apartment." She tossed the trash into the can and pulled on her winter coat.

Regina shrugged and shuffled a few files around on her desk to avoid her gaze. "It was purely selfish on my part. I wasn't going to let my son stay in some run down shack somewhere."

Emma shook her head as she pulled on her gloves. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Regina sighed and tossed one last file in her outbox. "If only that's all it took," she mumbled to herself.

Emma looked her over closely, noticing not for the first time the dark circles under her eyes, usually carefully covered up with makeup.

"Hey," she said quietly, and waited for the mayor to meet her gaze. "If you ever want to start talking," she continued, careful not to push the woman too much. "You know where to find me."

...

Emma pulled another cold beer out of the fridge and unscrewed the cap, tossing it into the trashcan as she walked back to the living room. Taking a long sip from the bottle, she surveyed her work so far. It was a long Saturday, but she and Mary Margaret had managed to scrub the whole place clean. She started painting a few hours ago, and only had the one large wall left. The fresh, bright white paint was already making the apartment look a million times better. Of course, she looked like she had more paint on her than the walls, but she was enjoying herself; working and dancing to the 90's pop music playing from her phone.

She took one last sip before setting the bottle down on the old coffee table. Fixing her ponytail, she moved to stand in front of the partially open window, letting the cold winter breeze chill her sweaty skin. The old heaters in the apartment had two settings: barely on and hell's fires. She was going to have to talk to the landlord about them… eventually. Another song started playing, an old favorite of hers, and she smiled to herself. Singing along to the lyrics, she picked up the paintbrush and began cutting in the trim of the last wall.

She had only made it a quarter of the way through the wall when there was a knock at the door. She stared at it for a moment, trying to decide if she should just yell for whomever it was to come in, or do the smarter, safer thing and answer it. It was probably only her father, anyway.

Sighing, she carefully stepped off the kitchen chair she was standing on and laid her brush down in the paint tray. There was another knock, and she rolled her eyes, already annoyed at the person on the other side's impatience. Without even looking through the peephole, she turned the deadbolt and opened the door.

"Regina?" she said, taken off guard. "What are you doing here?"

The mayor stood in the doorway holding a glass baking pan covered in foil. She raised an eyebrow at the blonde as her eyes raked over the woman's scantily clad body.

"Do you always answer the door half dressed?"

Emma looked down at her cotton shorts and tank top. "You've seen me answer it in less."

An eyebrow inched up as the brunette considered this statement. "Classy as always," Regina responded, choosing the safer option. Deciding she was done waiting for Emma to invite her in, she pushed past her and into the apartment.

"Come on in," Emma muttered to the now empty doorway. She closed the door and went to the living room to turn off the music before following the older woman into the kitchen. Regina had set the dish on the counter and was looking around the room in obvious disgust. Though everything was clean, it still had an old, dingy feel to it.

"It'll look better once I'm finished painting," Emma said, feeling a bit defensive of her new apartment. "Though I should have known you'd come check to make sure your son wouldn't be sleeping in a leaky shack."

Regina rolled her eyes and turned her back on the blonde to focus on removing the foil from the dish. "With Henry at your parents'… well, I had a rare moment of idiocy, and thought I'd be nice by reciprocating the favor and bringing you dinner." She stepped back to reveal a cheese-covered lasagna. "Think of it as a housewarming meal, if you wish."

"You didn't have to do that," Emma said halfheartedly. It was hard to argue with the delicious aroma floating from the pan.

"Nonsense. I always reciprocate."

Emma's mental train derailed and fell straight into the gutter. Surely, she must have just had one too many beers, right? She narrowed her eyes skeptically.

"Miss Swan?"

Emma blinked. "What?"

"I asked if you had dishes."

"Oh." Blushing slightly, she walked over to the cabinet near the fridge, not missing the evil smirk that was now present on the mayor's face. Glad that she had splurged on real dishes and not just Styrofoam, she pulled out two plates and silverware from the drawer as Regina produced a bottle of red wine from her oversized purse.

"I don't have wine glasses yet," Emma apologized. "But I at least have regular glasses."

"I'm surprised," Regina said honestly, rummaging through the bag for the corkscrew. "I expected plastic solo cups."

"Those are in the other cabinet, if you prefer the full lower-class experience," Emma said chidingly. She poured two glasses of wine while Regina dished out helpings of the lasagna and set the plates on the table. They sat next to each other diagonally, rather than on opposite ends of the small table, and neither of them thought twice about it.

"This smells amazing, by the way," Emma said, taking a small sip of the wine before picking up her fork. "Thanks for feeding me. I'd have probably just ate a bowl of Lucky Charms in bed later."

Regina paused with her napkin (paper towel, actually) halfway to her lap. "I really, truly don't know why I'm surprised."

Emma shrugged. "They're magically delicious."

A strange snort came form Regina as she picked up her wine, trying desperately to hold back a laugh. Emma smiled, taking a bite of delicious lasagna.

They ate mostly in silence, but it wasn't awkward. The cars driving by lent a relaxing ambient noise through the still-open window. That was, until Regina decided it was apparently time for girl talk.

"I'm sorry about you and Hook," she said, refilling both of their glasses with wine.

"No, you're not," Emma said, as she picked up her refilled glass and took another sip. Her face was devoid of any accusation, though. It was just a simple statement of truth.

"Well, I… Okay, maybe I didn't like the grungy pirate, but… I am sorry your happy ending didn't work out, I guess." Regina took a long sip from her own glass. She was starting to feel the warming affects of the wine, or maybe it was just the tropical temperature the blonde had the apartment heated to, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant.

Emma just shrugged. Her eyes were focused on the wine in her glass, purposely not meeting Regina's gaze. "It is what it is. We weren't really all that compatible, and I was done trying to force it."

Regina watched the woman, wondering if that really was all there was to it. She decided it really wasn't any of her business, regardless of the fact she was finding herself in the odd position of actually caring.

"Well, screw him then," Regina said, taking another long sip of wine. She muttered into the glass, "Maybe that ugly bitch will give him Herpes."

Emma choked on her wine and sent what she was swallowing up her nose. Her eyes started watering, and she was laughing and coughing at the same time.

"Shit," she managed to sputter. "That's horrible!" The wide grin on her face, though, said she didn't really think so.

Regina pretended to fix her flawless hair. "Well…" she cleared her throat. "I certainly wasn't called the Evil Queen because I hung out with the Care Bears, dear."

That sent Emma into another fit of laughter, imagining the cartoon Disney Evil Queen frolicking among the clouds of Care A Lot. Though her vision was blurred with tears, she could see Regina herself was chuckling.

"Oh my gosh," Emma cleared her throat and wiped the tears from her cheeks. "I needed that." She took a deep breath to calm herself before taking another sip of her wine. Regina sat quietly across from her, staring contemplatively into her glass. A self-deprecating smile played at her lips as she swirled the liquid around. Something about the image made Emma's heart hurt, and her mouth was moving before she could stop it.

"He told me what he did to you."

That made Regina's eyes shoot up to meet hers, but she didn't say anything.

"I didn't know, Regina. And I'm so, so sorry. Had I known, I would have never…"

Regina swallowed hard and tore her eyes away. "What did he tell you?"

"Everything," Emma said quietly. She finally looked away and down at her hands. "He got upset when he caught me trying to text you - again - and said that if you could get over what he did to you, you could get over Robin. I had no idea what he was talking about, so I made him tell me everything."

"When was this?" Regina asked. She tried to ignore the familiar pang of betrayal in her chest. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Emma tucked a strand of hair that had pulled out of her ponytail behind her ear. It was a nervous habit she'd seen the sheriff do quite often.

"I found out the same day we broke up."

The silence that fell between them was deafening. Emma chanced a glance at the other woman, but Regina seemed to be staring off into space, an odd look on her face Emma had never seen.

"And that's the real reason you broke up?" Regina finally asked, skepticism clear in her voice.

"Well, no. Not exactly…" Emma said, and her cheeks flushed red. "That's the reason I threatened to cut off his other hand if he ever came near me or my family again. The break up was pretty imminent either way."

Regina stood up and carried their plates over to the sink. She took the moment her back was to the sheriff to collect herself, before turning around and folding her arms across her chest. "So now you know why every time I look at him, I barely stop myself from ripping his throat out." Emma didn't miss how her hand clenched as she said it, and had no doubt she wasn't speaking figuratively.

"So why haven't you?" she asked cautiously. "He certainly deserves it."

The former queen rolled her eyes and huffed. "Because of you," she said, as if it should have been obvious. "As much as I couldn't stand to see you with him, I wasn't about to go and, I don't know…" She blushed and threw her hands in the air. "… Kill your one true love or something."

"Aww," Emma smiled and joined her at the counter, mimicking her closed-off posture. She bumped Regina's shoulder with her own, but the woman was purposely not looking at her. "That almost makes you sound like… my friend," she said, a hint of mischief in her voice.

"Almost?" Regina huffed, not truly as annoyed as she sounded.

Emma shrugged. "Well, I mean, a real friend would have just killed him, and made me thank her later."

Regina finally laughed, the sound filling the room and instantly lightening the atmosphere. "I'll remember that for next time."

They stood in amicable silence for a few moments, both allowing the tension that had built to ease away. There was a lot more still left between them, but for now, the talking was over. They had time.

Eventually Emma pushed away from the counter and retrieved her glass of wine from the table. She emptied the rest of the contents and grinned. "You know what else real friends do?" she asked.

A raised eyebrow was her only response.

"They help paint their friend's new apartment."

"Ha! No, they don't." Regina shook her head. "I don't like you that much, Miss Swan."

"Oh, come on," Emma said, as she ducked in the fridge for a new beer. "It'll be fun!"

When she stood back up, however, she was alone in the kitchen.

"Well," Emma said to the emptiness, "at least she left the lasagna." There was something else, though, left on the counter beside the pan. Emma picked up the piece of paper, recognizing it as the notes they wrote back and forth two nights ago. She scanned over the writing again, until she found the last note she hadn't had a chance to read.

"Oh," she breathed. "That's why you left."

Chapter Text

Emma trudged up the mayor's stairs and rang the doorbell. It was early in the evening, barely six, but the sun was long set and the night was cold. Her breath fogged in her face, and she could feel the moisture in her nose already freezing. Finally, the door opened and Henry's face broke into a smile.

"Emma! You're here!"

Emma blinked, a bit confused at Henry's enthusiasm. "Uh, yeah. Just dropping off your mom's pan, kid." He had just spent three days at the new apartment with her and was supposed to take the dish back home with him yesterday, but Emma had returned from dropping him off to see it still sitting on the counter.

"But you're just in time for game night," Henry said, grabbing her hand and tugging her into the house.

Emma allowed him to pull her in out of the cold, but didn't move away from the closed door. Game night? They used to have game night together every Wednesday in New York. It was a tradition that had started when… of course. When Henry was a child. It must have been one of the memories Regina had given them with the new curse. During the last few months, she had almost forgotten how much she missed living with him full time and she smiled at the memory of their game nights in New York. She shrugged though, as if letting the memories go, and let out a soft sigh.

"Sorry kid, I can't. I'm on duty tonight." The fact remained that he didn't live with her anymore. Not full time, anyway, and barely part time. She wasn't about to intrude on Regina's time with him either. She owed the mayor that, at least.

"Oh, come on!" Henry whined. "Like that has ever stopped you before!"

Emma put her free hand on her hip and gave her son a mock glare. "I'll let you know, I take my job very seriously! Besides, your mother is my boss in case you've forgotten. I'm sure she- "

"Already knows you half work on a good day, Sheriff," interrupted Regina. She stood in the doorway to the den, an amused smirk on her face. She was wearing yoga pants and a long blue-checkered flannel shirt, and with her hair pulled back and her face clean of makeup, she was looking so not Mayor Mills that it threw Emma off and completely shut down her brain.

"Hello? Earth to mom?" Henry snapped his fingers in front of her face.

Emma blushed and tore her eyes away from Regina to glare at her son. "You know what? Never mind. I think I'll just take this dirt home and eat it all by mys- "

"You made dirt?" Henry literally squealed and ripped the lasagna pan from her hands. He lifted the foil covering and grinned ear to ear. "Awesome! Mom can I eat some now please?"

Regina's eyes were ping-ponging between the two of them in confusion. "I'm sorry… what do you think you're feeding my son?"

"It's called dirt. It's chocolate pudding and crushed Oreos." Emma shrugged, a bit embarrassed at not being the health-conscious mom she probably should be. Henry hadn't actually bothered to wait for permission, either. From the sound of it, he was already digging out a portion from the pan in the kitchen, and she suddenly found the tile pattern of the foyer floor extremely interesting. She explained softly, "It was his favorite in New York."

Before Regina could reply, Henry appeared from the kitchen carrying three bowls full of the dessert, a neon-colored gummy worm sticking out of each one. "Okay, now we're officially ready for game night!" he said, walking right past both of them and into the den.

Emma and Regina stared at each other, a moment of uncertainty passing between them.

It was Regina who broke the silence, shrugging her shoulders in feigned indifference and pointing to Emma's boots. "Those don't take another step further. I'll not have you melting snow all over my clean floors."

And Emma rolled her eyes, but was hanging up her jacket and unlacing her boots before the mayor even disappeared into the other room. She followed in behind the brunette, noticing Henry had situated himself on the floor, a board game set up on the coffee table. She took one look at the board and raised an eyebrow. The kid was rather heavy on the irony. She moved the Sorry! box off the end of the couch and took a seat, setting up her four yellow pawns.

"How original," Regina commented of the color, taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch and setting up her own blue pieces. Emma noticed she had also set down two glasses of cider for them.

"I told you, I like yellow," she muttered, shuffling the deck of cards and placing them in the middle. "All right kid, start us off."

It was a fun game, and admittedly one of her favorites to play in the group homes growing up. Though, it was quickly becoming a rather most unpleasant experience, as pawn after pawn was sent back to start. At first she played along, laughing each time she got kicked off a space. Eventually, though, she realized an entirely different game was being played.

One that was ruthless, and that her majesty was having way too much fun playing.

"Four, five… six. Oh, Sorry!" Regina grinned, and it was nothing short of evil. She tipped over Emma's yellow pawn as she gleefully replaced it with her blue… for the ninth time (never mind she had two other options to take down one of Henry's pawns).

Emma cracked her fingers and took a long sip of her cider. Game on, bitch. Game on.

Henry prudently kept his comments to himself, as he watched his mothers take turns picking up a 2, and conveniently following it up with the exact number needed to send the other home. There was no reason to accuse either one of them of cheating, or point out that the deck wasn't decreasing, and they had seen way more 1s and 2s than actually come in the deck. Nope, it was all to his advantage, because while his mothers were busy conquering each other, he managed to slide all four of his pawns into Home in record time.

They moved on to KerPlunk after that, Henry assuming there were limited ways his magical parents could really cheat. Of course they proved him wrong. It was soon rather obvious that one (or both) of his mothers was magically keeping all of the marbles up top. Regina inevitably came out the victor when Emma pulled out a stick (not even touching any of the marbles), and every last one of the glass orbs fell to the bottom.

"How… unfortunate," Regina grinned, clearly proud of herself. Not a single marble lay in her tray.

Emma took the chiding like a champ, downing the rest of her cider with a shrug. "It was fun getting to know just how much you hate losing." She grinned and stood up, gathering up the empty dessert bowls. "I really should be getting back to work though. And Henry, I know it's way past your bedtime for a school night."

Henry huffed and rolled his eyes. "It's not even a school night. We're on winter break, remember? I didn't even have school today! It's Christmas Eve tomorrow."

Emma paused on her way to the kitchen. "Really? Already? Huh…" She walked out of the room then, leaving her son and his other mother in silent confusion

Regina walked into the kitchen as Emma was rinsing the bowls out in the sink. She quietly appreciated that Emma thought to do that much. She'd never tell her that though. "Miss Swan…"

"Seriously?" Emma said, pausing for a moment in her cleaning without looking behind her.

Regina rolled her eyes, unseen. "Emma," she corrected. "What time should I have Henry ready tomorrow?"

Emma shrugged and dried her hands on her pants, ignoring the dishtowel clearly sitting right next to the sink. "Probably around three. Are you still sure you don't want to come? I'm sure my mom would be delighted to have you there."

Regina grimaced. "The fact that you used the word 'delighted' is exactly why I'm not going to Snow White's house on Christmas Eve. No thank you."

"Suit yourself," Emma shrugged. "We're going to have a delightful time listening to the Chipmunk's Christmas album and decorating ginger bread men." She grinned when she saw Regina actually shudder at the thought.

"As unbelievably charming as that all sounds… Over my dead body."

"Fine," Emma drawled, walking past her and into the foyer. She stepped into her boots before tugging on her coat. "I'll have Henry home by seven. I better hit the road. I don't want those kids trying to steal the baby Jesus from the church manger again this year."

"You know," Regina said, opening the door for the blonde to step out on the porch. "It would take minimal effort on your part to just put a simple protection spell on it."

"I suppose I could," Emma said. She jogged down the few steps to turn and walk backwards down the sidewalk. "But the mayor did that for me two weeks ago. I felt her magic the first time I walked by."

"Maybe the fairy nuns did it themselves?"

"Nope," Emma shook her head. "It's definitely the mayor's magic. I'd know it anywhere."

Regina felt her cheeks start to burn, but told herself it was the cold outside air. "Well, why the need to babysit a doll then?"

Emma stopped a few feet from the porch and shifted her gaze to the darkness of Mifflin street. "The choir," she answered softly, shoving her hands self-consciously into her coat pockets. "They've been practicing at night for midnight mass. I like to hear the Christmas music." She shrugged as if it was no big deal, and turned to meet the brunette's inquisitive gaze with a hesitant smile. "Thanks for letting me join game night. I'll see you tomorrow."

Regina didn't respond. She watched as Emma climbed into the cruiser and drove off before closing the front door with a soft click of the lock. She stood leaning with her back against the door for several long moments, before taking a deep breath and walking back to the den. It was best not to overthink everything Emma Swan said.

"Henry, it's time for bed."

Henry looked up from the tree ornament he was holding. "We didn't have this last year. Mom, I mean Emma, said we must have lost it in the move. But I remembered it."

Regina took the blue bulb from his hand, smiling at the old style baby carriage that read Baby's 1st Christmas. She let her memories wander to years past for a long moment, before replacing it on the tree. "I didn't have a lot of time to pick and choose memories. I gave you what you had. Just… altered them a bit."

"I wish you had been there," he admitted shyly. "Because of the curse, I have all these new memories… it's like, memories of the same moment, but they have both you and Emma there now. Except for last year. Last year was just Emma. Not that it was a bad Christmas, but I think deep down we both knew something was missing."

Regina wrapped her arm around his shoulders and kissed the side of his head, glad she could still reach without being on her tiptoes. "I think maybe you're just filling in the blanks with what you know now."

Henry shrugged. "I don't know. Looking back on it, there are some things that should have definitely been obvious. Like Emma's obsession with Disney Christmas ornaments."

Regina just raised an eyebrow, images of what could only be the tackiest looking tree in humanity popping into her head.

"I don't know why, and I don't know how… but I came home one Saturday from hanging out with some friends, and she was decorating this small, fake little Christmas tree." He held his arms out in what he guessed was about the right height. "We didn't have room for a big, real tree in the apartment. So she got us this artificial tree that sat on an end table in front of the window," he explained.

"Let me guess, it probably had multicolored lights," Regina said, her distaste for the flashing rainbow atrocities clear in her voice.

"Would Emma choose anything else?" Henry grinned.

That certainly made his mother chuckle. "No, absolutely not. So what about Disney ornaments?"

"Oh, yeah. She was so excited that she found this set of Disney character ornaments in some thrift store. I'm not sure why she was so fond of them, but as she hung each one, she had to go into an in depth analysis of why she loved each movie. Except… Snow White," He laughed, shaking his head. "She hated that movie. Thought it was stupid and didn't like the dumb music. She hid Snow and all the dwarves in the back of the tree. Except for Grumpy. She liked him."

Regina actually cackled as she led Henry towards the stairs. "The irony almost hurts."

"Technically," Henry drawled, "you gave her most of your memories. You probably gave her your… dislike… of Snow White, too." He opened his bedroom door and walked over to the bedside table to turn on the small lamp. Regina stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed and a sardonic smile.

"If that was my fault, I certainly didn't mean to. The curse was meant to take all of those memories away. Though, perhaps… some things can't be erased."

Henry shrugged as he pulled out a clean set of pajamas from the bottom drawer and laid them out over his bed. "You mean, like that feeling we had that something was missing?"

Regina's smile softened. "Perhaps. How do you feel now?"

Henry's gaze shifted to a small picture frame on his nightstand. It was a picture of him and Emma in New York, taken from his cell phone. It wasn't the best quality, having been printed on his mom's office printer, but it was his favorite.

"Like something's still missing."

...

Emma glanced at the nativity scene as she walked by. The baby Jesus was still in his makeshift cradle, safe from mischievous teens. She felt the wave of magic rolling off it like a soft breeze, and couldn't stop her lips from twitching into a smile. Regina's magic was warm and electric. It made her own magic tingle just under her skin in an almost comforting way. She could feel other's magic, of course. She knew the feel of the fairies' spells, and the dark variety belonging to Rumplestiltskin. But neither made her own magic hum like Regina's did. She assumed it was the way they had often used their magic together, running through each other to make them stronger. Why else would it react like that?

Shaking her head, she opened the heavy door of the church and stepped in out of the cold. The choir was practicing up in the loft above her, but she still felt the need to tip toe to the last pew. Taking a seat, and cringing at the sound of creaking wood that echoed through the church, she took her hat off and looked around at the dimly lit space. The images on the stained glass windows seemed to come to life in the dancing candlelight. The choir paused, and an older woman's voice was heard giving instructions. Moments later, they began a hauntingly slow version of Silent Night. It was one of her favorites, probably because she actually knew all the lyrics.

"Slow night, Sheriff?"

Emma's only response was a raised eyebrow as the church's Mother Superior took a seat beside her. This was not Emma's first evening visit, and she was well aware the nun knew that as well.

"There's something magical about Christmas time, all of its own," Blue muttered softly. "It's real, you can feel it. Perhaps it's the hope in the air of those true believers. Are you a true believer, Emma?"

"Of what?" the blonde asked. "Of Christmas?"

"Of Christ."

Emma glanced down at the small gold cross hanging from the chain around the woman's neck. "Are you, Blue?"

The former fairy's eyes tracked to the large crucifix hanging on the wall at the front of the church.

"If we've learned anything these past few years, it's that all stories have a seed of truth."

Emma barely stopped herself from snorting as she crossed her arms and slouched down in her seat. "I had a few foster families that forced me to go to church. Some even forced me to go to Sunday school. I can't say that I ever completely bought into all they were selling. I couldn't understand how an ever-loving God could allow so many innocent kids to suffer." She sighed, and her eyes tracked to a statue on a side altar of the Virgin Mary, face sad and looking out at the pews, palms down and facing out as if to embrace them.

"But at the same time," she continued, "it was sort of comforting to think that somewhere out there, someone actually did give a shit about me. Maybe. I don't know." She cleared her throat and shifted uncomfortably. "I know when I gave up Henry, I prayed harder than I ever had before that he would have the life I never had. The life I could never give him. Turns out, my prayers had been answered. Whether that was God, or wish-magic, or just some conniving imp writing my destiny into a curse, I suppose it doesn't really matter."

Blue nodded and studied the sullen figure beside her. It was obvious she was still feeling lost, but the fairy wasn't sure how far she could push the prickly guarded sheriff. Movement behind them caught her attention, and she focused her gaze on the shadows. Her eyes narrowed, but she stood up anyway.

"Perhaps we'll see you during an actual service, Emma." She gently touched the quiet woman's shoulder. "Merry Christmas."

A slightly surprised Emma watched as the woman retreated up the aisle to the front of the church, where she disappeared through a side door that led to the convent. A throat clearing behind her made her jump, and she slowly turned, her best "leave me the hell alone" glare plastered on her face.

A sheepish Regina stood at the end of the pew, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth in what Emma decided immediately was too adorable to be angry at. She relaxed her posture and looked questioningly up at the mayor.

"The polite thing to do, Miss Swan, would be to slide over so I could take a seat."

Emma rolled her eyes and did as she was told, not fazed by the haughty tone in the least. She watched as the former queen sat down beside her, and Emma noticed she was still dressed exactly as she was when she had left the mansion earlier, with the addition of the long wool pea coat that mostly hid the unusually casual attire. Except for the sneakers, which looked like they had never seen the outside world.

"Glad to see you working hard, as expected, Sheriff," the woman muttered, not quite looking at Emma, but still her eyes shined with amusement.

"Just making sure the church is safe. Wouldn't want anything to happen to all the new festive decorations."

"Definitely not," the Regina responded flatly.

"Surely that's why the mayor is paying a visit as well?"

"Of course. One has to make sure her yearly personal donation to an establishment is being well utilized."

They sat without speaking for several long minutes, the silence gratefully filled by the sisters' singing above. Emma wasn't normally a patient person, but she instinctively kept her mouth shut and did her best not to fidget until the brunette was ready to talk. She gazed at each of the stained glass windows, counted all of the lit candles, and contemplated an interesting crack in the ceiling's plaster. It only took the entirety of Little Drummer Boy. Twice.

"I'm not very good at being a friend, Emma."

Eyes on her feet playing with the kneeler in front of her, Emma shrugged. "Yeah, you said that in your note." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the darker woman's shoulders slump, and rushed to finish.

"But seems to me, you haven't had much of a chance to practice."

Taken off guard, Regina swallowed and defaulted to her usual self-hatred. "Well, that's certainly no one's fault but mine."

Emma pulled her hands out of her jacket pocket and tucked her hair behind her ears. She knew better than to argue back at this point. Better to derail Regina's train of self-loathing than deny what was, in all honesty, not that far from the truth anyway. "You know what else you're not very good at?"

Regina swallowed nervously. "What?"

"Losing. Seriously, Regina. That was really uncool what you did with the KerPlunk marbles."

"Oh, please, Miss Swan!" She turned in her seat to level the blonde with a glare. "I had to fight through your magic to even get them to fall!"

Emma turned her own body to face off with the mayor. "I felt you. I let them fall."

Regina scoffed. "You did not! You're a terrible liar. And even worse at basic spells."

Emma chuckled and relented. "You're right. I suck at magic. I was surprised I was even able to fight you off for that long."

"You don't suck," Regina admitted tiredly. "Well, not completely, anyway." She rested an elbow on the back of the pew and propped her head up with her hand. "You're surprisingly gifted. You just need to practice and hone your skills." She paused and leveled the blonde with another glare, the force of which was somewhat lost by the relaxed position she was in. "And if you ever tell anyone I said that, I'll kill you."

Emma mimicked the mayor's posture and held up her right hand as if swearing in court. "I promise. I only ever tell my mom secrets I want people to find out."

That earned her a loud, genuine laugh from the mayor. It echoed through the church, mingling with the sounds of O Come, O Come, Emmanuel floating through the air. It was a sound Emma decided she needed to hear much more often from the stoic woman. She wondered how many people had ever actually heard her laugh. Regina, not the Evil Queen. Certainly Henry. But was she open enough with anyone else? Emma doubted it, and somehow, that made her feel sad deep down to her bones.

She would make this woman laugh.

Regina calmed, and seemed to come to her senses. She straightened in her seat and cleared her throat, those barriers she kept around to protect herself quickly brought back up. "Anyway, I came here to say that, as a friend, if you would like to come over Christmas morning to watch Henry open his gifts, that would be acceptable. For Henry's sake."

Emma stared at her in open-mouthed shock. "Really? Are you serious?"

"Of course," Regina said, momentarily meeting the other woman's eyes before shyly looking down at her own folded hands. "I spent last Christmas without my son, and it broke my heart. You spent ten away from him. It wouldn't be fair of me to take any more away from you, too."

"I don't know what to say," Emma admitted, her voice sounding thicker than usual "Thank you. That really means a lot to me." She straightened in her seat and looked away, blinking the moisture from her eyes. Thankfully Regina was all too happy to give her the space she needed to collect herself.

"Well then, it's settled." The mayor stood up and made a show of dusting off her coat. "You should plan to arrive really early. Henry doesn't sleep late on Christmas." She could offer the sheriff a guest room, she supposed, but she thought that was probably pushing both of them past their current comfort levels.

"Don't I know it," Emma responded, her voice back to normal. "I'm on call tomorrow night, so I'll probably be able to come over as soon as I release all the inevitable drunken idiots. Gotta make sure all the paper work for each inmate is meticulously filled out and filed, too. Never know when the mayor might stop in for a random audit."

"Hmm, yes. I've heard of those. In fact," Regina said, tapping her chin. "I thought I heard something about her showing up two days ago, and setting fire to a trashcan full of paper snowflakes. Of course, that resulted in a hefty fine from the fire department, which I also heard, she immediately took out of the sheriff's paycheck."

Emma stared at her in horror. She had been off two days ago, but did in fact notice all of her paper clipped decorations were suspiciously missing. She couldn't decipher if the evil look on the brunette's face was evil-evil, or "ha-ha she's so gullible and obviously a Charming" evil.

"Well now, Sheriff." Regina gently reached out and, with a single finger under her chin, closed Emma's gaping mouth. "Be safe driving these icy roads tonight."

Later, as she crawled into bed and checked that her alarm was set on her phone, Regina would find a text message that, in no polite terms, would inform her that she was an asshole.

Emma would return home at six in the morning to find a fresh cup of hot chocolate sitting on her nightstand, resting on a paper snowflake coaster. Touched by the gesture, she would smile, take a sip of the perfectly spiced-with-cinnamon cocoa, and pull back the covers on her bed… where she would, of course, discover the rest of the paper snowflakes.

Chapter Text

Regina smiled to herself as she placed the last Santa cookie with the others to dry. She looked over her work, satisfied with the result. She didn't pipe icing often, so she was a little rusty, but they still looked pretty darn good. Normally Henry would help her make the cookies, and as he didn't have the patience for piping, he would usually just use a spoon to smear the royal icing over the cookie before dumping too many sprinkle balls on them. But he was busy celebrating at his grandparents' this year.

Not that she would dream of taking that away from him. It was just… well, it was just that it was a little lonely in her house this Christmas eve. She had started off by reading a book, then tried to do some work in her office, but in the end, she needed something more hands-on to occupy her mind.

Because it wasn't about the time alone, it was about all the dark, dangerous paths her mind kept trying to wander down. The ones where Robin didn't leave, and he and Roland would have been with her baking cookies. The ones where the curse never broke and she had Henry all to herself. The ones where Emma Swan didn't ruin everything.

The ones where Emma Swan made everything better. And what the hell was that about?

So now, halfway through her favorite bottle of white, she was done with both her chocolate chip and sugar cookies, and her heart wasn't really into making more. She sat at the island sipping her glass alone, contemplating what her heart was telling her to do next.

...

"Oh Emma, don't feed him that! You'll make his tummy hurt!"

The blonde rolled her eyes and pulled her finger out of her brother's mouth. "A little icing won't kill him anymore than the Oreos I feed him when I babysit." She grinned as Neal followed her finger, mouth open like a little fish.

"You what?!" her mother shrieked.

"How come you let him eat Oreos and not me?" Henry whined. He was busy sticking toothpicks through gumdrops to make little people for his gingerbread house, but was currently glaring at her as if she had betrayed him and his great ancestors.

"Uh," Emma grunted. "Because your mom is a hell of a lot scarier than Snow White when she's pissed?" she finished lamely.

Henry shook his head. "Like mom would do anything to you."

Emma dipped her finger in the icing and offered it to her brother again, ignoring the glares from her mother. "She tried to kill me with an apple turnover. I don't need her sending a poisoned grilled cheese to the station, cause you know I have no qualms about eating free food that mysteriously ends up on my desk."

"Or other people's lunches on their desk with their name on the bag," David grumbled from the kitchen.

"That was a sleeping curse, not poison," Henry pointed out. He stood his little gumdrop person by the door of what Emma admitted was more like a gingerbread castle than a house. "All that would have happened was you'd have gotten a much-needed nap. I'd have woken you up eventually, just like you did to me."

Emma gazed at her own gingerbread house, which in its sad state looked like it would have been the backyard outhouse or chicken coup to Henry's three-story mansion. A nap sounded really fantastic, actually. She wondered if that apple turnover was still around. Like, maybe it was just sitting in the back of Regina's freezer, waiting…

"Earth to Emma," David called, snapping his fingers.

"Huh?"

"Your mother just asked if you knew if Hook was coming," he explained, with a pointed glare. He was well aware his daughter was no longer with the pirate, but refused to be the one to tell his wife.

Emma gazed at her mother warily. "Why would Hook be coming?"

"Because it's Christmas Eve?" Mary Margaret said, her own eyebrows nearly in her hairline. "I ran into him at the market the other day and reminded him what time dinner was, but I would have thought he'd be here by now."

Oh, crap. Emma glanced at Henry to see if he would be any help, but he was pretending to be completely focused on designing little windows out of Twizzlers. Her father was also suddenly intensely involved in mashing the potatoes.

"Uh, well, you see mom. Killian and I, we- "

A light knock on the door interrupted her fumbling excuse. Luckily, everyone's eyes darted towards the door, so no one saw the blood completely drain from Emma's face.

"Aren't you going to let your true love in, Emma?" her mother said, giving her a knowing smile and nod towards the door.

Wide-eyed and slightly panicking, Emma stood up from the table and handed her brother off to her mother. She caught Henry's worried gaze for a moment before turning away and walking resolutely towards the door. She was going to kill a fucking pirate today.

Emma turned the door handle, but didn't open the door completely. Instead, she opened the door just enough to slide through and shut it firmly behind her before rounding on her victim.

"What the hell do you think you're…" Emma's hushed, clipped tone was suddenly halted, leaving her voice echoing into silence.

Regina recovered first, blinking out of her shocked stupor and clearing her throat. "I'm sorry to have interrupted, Miss Swan. I can just- "

"No!" Emma almost shouted, her hands coming up in a stopping motion. "No, I'm sorry. I thought you were Hook! My mother had just finished saying she invited him, and then you knocked, and…" She waved her hands, indicating the older woman's sudden appearance.

Regina's eyebrow slowly crept up her forehead. "She doesn't know yet?"

Emma shrugged. "I was going to tell her… eventually. It's not my fault the rest of the town, including my traitorous father, hasn't told her yet. They tell her everything else," she mumbled.

Regina glanced around the stairwell as if expecting the pirate to jump out of the shadows. "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you. Your mother texted me again, begging me to come to family dinner…" She hoped it was too dark for the blonde to see her blush. "I figured it wouldn't kill me to bring over some cookies." She lifted the Tupperware container she had been holding.

"Wait… my mom texted you?" Emma asked, looking back towards the door in confusion.

"Yes, like six times, in typical irritating Snow White fashion. Why?"

"Uh… nothing. Never mind," Emma said.

Regina shifted her weight and looked down at the container in her hands. "I could just leave these here with you, and- "

"Oh, I don't think so. You don't get out of this that easily," Emma grinned, and it was almost evil. Taking hold of Regina's coat sleeve, she practically dragged the woman into the apartment. "Look who I found!" Emma shouted to the room. The next thing Regina knew, the sheriff was almost forcibly taking her coat from her and giving her a shove towards the table.

"Oh! Hello, Regina!" David said, eyes wide in surprise.

"Regina!" Mary Margaret cooed happily. "I'm so glad you came! I know someone who would love to see his favorite aunt!" And suddenly, Regina's arms were full of sticky baby and Show White's arms were wrapped around her in a tight hug. "Merry Christmas, Regina."

Henry watched his mom's face closely. It went from indignation, to confusion, to affectionate delight, to straight up disgust mixed with a little horror. He knew better than to laugh though, as much as he wanted to. His mom fought discomfort with anger, and he didn't quite feel like having his head bit off on Christmas Eve. His grandma finally let her go though, and Emma came back with an offering of wine. There was a shared look between them, one that he couldn't quite figure out, before Emma took his uncle back in her own arms and passed Regina the glass of red.

The former queen took a sip of the wine, giving herself a moment to collect herself from Charming overload. It was hardly good wine, but she'd take what alcohol she could get. Hell, she was probably going to need to open another bottle. And what the hell was up with Emma? "So," she started, gazing over the table. "what on Earth are we doing here?" She walked around to stand behind Henry and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Gingerbread houses," he explained, showing off his moving door. "Well, really graham crackers, cause Emma burnt the cookies. But the icing works as the glue." He grinned at his creation. It was a neatly made little mansion, with M&Ms tiling the slanted roof, gumdrop people, and powdered sugar dusted over to look like snow.

"It really is fantastic, Henry," Regina said proudly. Her eyes tracked to the mess beside his, and the laugh that escaped managed to sound more like a choked snort. "Is that your mother's?" The tiny little box of a building looked as if icing had been used as stucco rather than glue, and she was pretty sure the marshmallow snow man was the only thing keeping it from collapsing in on itself.

Henry let out an evil laugh. "How did you ever guess?"

"Intuition," she deadpanned.

"Hey!" Emma yelled across the room from the changing table. She snapped her brother's onesie and didn't even bother trying to wrestle him into the rest of his outfit. She lifted him back into her arms with a glare aimed at her traitorous son and his adoptive mother. "I don't see your gingerbread house, your majesty."

Regina spread her arms out wide. "I created an entire town, Princess."

"All right, time to clean it up," Mary Margaret interrupted, stepping between the two to carefully pick up her gingerbread bird house. Of course, it would be a bird house. "Emma, would you set the table please?" she asked, a little too sweetly.

Sparing her mother an annoyed look, Emma passed the baby back to Regina, took the brunette's wine glass from her, and downed the rest of its contents in one swallow.

"No worries," Regina hissed. "I wasn't going to drink that or anything."

"It was warm, I was doing you a favor," the blonde mumbled, scooping up a glob of icing and dabbing it on her brother's nose.

"I promise you, Neal…" Regina whispered too loudly. She wiped the icing off the baby's nose and, without even thinking in true maternal fashion, sucked the icing off her own finger. "Auntie Regina is going to make sure you don't grow up to be as insufferable as your sister." She smirked at the indignant huff she heard from the kitchen. "It's not going to be easy," she continued. "We're fighting an atrocious mix of DNA, but if your nephew proves anything, it's that nurture is way more important than nature."

"Emma! Stop eating those cookies!"

"I'm noff eating anyfing! Ow!"

The sound of a cutting board hitting a sweater covered arm echoed through the apartment.

"Emma was right about one thing," Regina said. Though the baby in her arms was too focused on tasting her necklace to pay attention, she was now witnessing Snow White chase her adult daughter around the living room while wielding a twisted-up kitchen towel. "This is actually tremendously delightful."

...

Emma put the last of the dried dishes in the cupboard and wiped down the countertop. She hung the towel over the oven handle to dry and checked once more that all the dishes had been washed. Mary Margaret came down the stairs at that moment and slid into a seat at the bar.

"He went down without a fuss," the brunette said softly. "First time in ages. All the excitement must have caught up to him."

"Hmm," Emma hummed. "Regina's really good with him."

"She definitely is," her mother smiled. "She's a good mom."

"Yeah," Emma agreed. She leaned over the counter and gazed at the living room where barely an hour earlier the mayor had been tossing her brother in the air, only to catch him and blow raspberries on his belly. "You have to wear him out, or he'll never go to sleep," she told Snow. "Bouncing baby boy isn't just a metaphor."

"You're a good mom too, Emma," Snow said softly. She reached across the counter to cover her daughter's hand with her own. "I know you don't believe that sometimes, but you really are."

Emma shrugged, not quite comfortable with the conversation. Everything she knew about parenting came from Regina. She wouldn't have survived the year in New York without all of the memories she had been given.

"So, when were you going to tell me you broke up with Hook?"

Emma's mouth opened, but nothing came out. She felt her mom squeeze her hand one last time before letting go, and she had to force herself to make eye contact. "You knew?" she finally asked.

"Of course I knew," Mary Margaret said with an eye roll. "Ruby is my best friend. I've known for ages. I just didn't want you to feel like I was intruding, so I figured I would just wait until you told me. But then you never did," she finished with a mock glare that only barely hid her hurt.

"I'm sorry, mom," Emma sighed. She walked around the island to take a seat at the bar next to her. "It was just such a messed-up situation. I didn't really want to talk about it with anyone."

"I understand," the brunette said softly. "But I wish you would have at least talked to me. I know… well, I know I'm more of a friend than a parent, but you're still my daughter."

Emma shook her head. "I know, and I'm sorry," she apologized again. "It's just… I felt like such a failure. I mean, look at you and dad. True love, happy ending and all that crap. And then there's me. A perpetual screw up." She stretched to the other end of the bar to reach the forgotten bottle of wine. It was the third bottle of the night, and only half full. She and Regina had drunk most of it throughout the night. Enough of it that David had insisted on driving the mayor and Henry home. She took a long swig straight from the bottle before continuing.

"Pregnant teenager, birth in jail, gave up my kid before I could even hold him. Loved three men in my life. One set me up to go to prison, one was a pirate who tortured the mother of my son nearly to death, and the other wasn't even human. I'm the daughter of actual fairy tale characters, and my life is anything but!"

Mary Margaret took the bottle from Emma's hands and placed it out of her reach. "Emma, nobody is holding you to any sort of standards." She lovingly tucked an errant strand of blonde hair behind Emma's ear before placing a finger under her chin and gently turning her head towards her. She waited until Emma met her gaze. "Your father and I are extremely proud of the woman you are. You're strong, independent, and you love so very much. We just want you to be happy. We want you to find someone who loves you for who you are, and will love you as much and as deeply as you'll love them. That's all any parent wants for their child."

"Yeah, but my track record for picking men is clearly shit." She dropped her head down to her arms on the counter. "I'm starting to suspect a hopeless love life was written into the curse."

Mary Margaret chuckled as she rubbed circles on Emma's back. "Now you're just being melodramatic."

"I am not!" Emma's head popped up. "I'm such bad luck my… 'bad juju' chases other people's boyfriends away too!"

The brunette rolled her eyes. "You didn't chase Robin away. None of that was your fault. We've had this discussion a thousand times already," she said, knowing exactly what her daughter was referring to. "Speaking of melodramatic women... no wonder you two get along so well now."

Emma was about to argue, to stand up for Regina, but really… what in that statement was actually inaccurate? The former queen's picture was probably in the dictionary next to "melodramatic".

"Thank you for pestering her until she showed up, by the way," Emma said instead.

"I didn't pester her," Mary Margaret huffed.

"Yeah, okay," Emma snorted. "Whatever. It was nice of you to invite her."

"She's family, and family should be together on Christmas Eve." She got up and walked over to the stove to heat up some water for tea. Emma watched her for a few minutes in silence, until something popped into her head.

"Hey… did you really invite Hook?"

"Of course not," her mother answered. She took two mugs out of the cupboard and filled them with hot liquid. "That would have made for quite the awkward family dinner, don't you think?" She set one of the mugs down in front of Emma and walked around the counter to give her a kiss on the cheek. "I'm going to bed while the beast is actually sleeping. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Of course."

Emma slid off the stool and pulled on her jacket. Checking her pockets to make sure she had everything, she opened the door and almost ran right into David.

"Woah, Emma," he said, reaching out to grab her arms to steady her. "You all right? You want me to drive you home?"

Emma shook her head. "No, I'm fine. I'm just going to walk home."

"It's freezing outside."

"And I'm only a few blocks away," she smiled and patted his chest. "I'll be okay. Promise."

David reluctantly stepped aside. "Text me when you're safe, all right?"

"Sure, dad," she promised with a genuine smile. He meant well, and she appreciated having people who cared about her well-being. He wasn't wrong, though. It was bitter cold outside, and she pulled her hat down farther on her head against the wind. She would only be walking for about ten minutes anyway. She just wanted to get home, and get a full night's sleep. Hopefully on Christmas Eve, this ridiculous town would give her that much.

Chapter Text

A light knocking sound pulled Regina from sleep. She listened for a moment, and when it didn't repeat, closed her eyes again.

The light knocking sound was back. The mayor sat up slowly from the couch and looked lazily around the room. The Christmas tree was still lit in the corner so it wasn't dark, but outside the windows the world was pitch black.

Knocking again, and slowly Regina's sleep-fogged brain put the puzzle together and realized someone was at the door. She stood up from the couch and, lacking her robe, wrapped the woven sofa blanket around her shoulders before shuffling bare-footed to the front door. She debated using magic to make herself look more presentable, but she peeked outside and saw only Emma standing on her doorstep. Brows furrowed in irritation, she unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door.

"What the hell are you doing here in the middle of the night, Miss Swan?"

Emma blinked stupidly at her before pulling out her cell phone to check the time.

"Regina… it's 6:30 in the morning." She turned the phone screen so that the mayor could see.

So it was.

"You told me to come over super early to help with the presents."

"I know what I told you!" the mayor snapped irritably, definitely not admitting to being too hungover to remember that particular conversation at the moment. She stepped back from the door and pointed to the sheriff's wet boots.

Emma barely suppressed an eye roll as she closed the door behind her. She pulled off her shoes and coat, and made sure both were neatly in their place out of the way so as not to irritate the sleepy mayor any further. It was obvious she had woken the woman, and past experience told her the former queen was absolutely not a morning person, regardless of how hard she pretended to be.

Inside the drawer of the small foyer table off to the side she placed her cuffs, badge, and gun holster. Regina had emptied it out for her ages ago when she would stop by to pick up Henry while Robin and Roland were there, and often end up staying for dinner. She used to pull the clip out and put it in a separate drawer, but Henry was old enough not to be sneaking around playing with guns, and Roland was in New York with his father.

"Expecting trouble on Christmas, Sheriff?"

"Already had trouble," Emma grumbled. She ran a hand through her tangled hair and sighed. She was not in the mood to talk about Hook and his new whatever-she-was arguing in the street at two a.m. "I'll tell you about it later after some coffee."

Shrugging a shoulder, Regina turned and began climbing the stairs, and Emma assumed she was supposed to be following her. She had never actually gone upstairs, and she felt kind of awkward doing so now.

The room at the top of the stairs was closed. Regina paused there and opened the door slowly. It was dark in the room, except for a small nightlight Henry still preferred to have. She could see his still form on the bad, wrapped like a burrito in his blankets. She closed the door as quietly as possible, and lifted a finger to her lips at Emma's questioning gaze. The blonde nodded, and followed behind as the former queen led her down the hall to the last door on the left.

Regina entered that room without preamble, flipping the light switch on as she walked through the door. Emma followed, and immediately realized it must have been the mayor's own bedroom.

And it was tremendously underwhelming.

The walls had an outdated beige and cream patterned wallpaper. The headboard was beige and looked like something straight from, well, 1982. Everything about it was the exact opposite of the over the top extravagance of the Evil Queen; a far cry from the black and white tones of her office, but definitely fit well with the rest of the mansion. It was almost as if the woman was trying to separate the Evil Queen-Mayor from soccer mom Regina. Sort of a light and dark, or psycho and… less psycho?

"It's a bedroom, Miss Swan, not a portal to hell."

Regina was standing impatiently by the closet with her hands on her hips. The blanket had been tossed over a chair, leaving the mayor exposed in only her gray silk pajamas and sleep tousled hair. Even in this state, Emma mused, the queen still managed to be domineering.

"Not as many chains and torture devices as I was expecting," she teased.

"I keep the kinky stuff in my vault, obviously," Regina deadpanned and pointed to the open closet. "The presents, however, are in here. Try not to drop anything."

Emma wasn't entirely sure if Regina was joking, but there was no way in hell she was going to ask. Instead, she peeked into the closet and let out a low groan. There were literally dozens of expertly wrapped boxes.

"Really?" Regina smacked her on the arm hard, which earned her a sharp yelp. "Half the damn things are yours, Emma."

"I know," Emma relented, rubbing her sore arm through her sweater. She had been shocked when Regina had offered to wrap all of her presents for her. She had only been joking about it over lunch a week ago, but the mayor had seemed to take her seriously, and agreed almost immediately. She did, however, use the excuse that she didn't want Emma's "shitty wrapping skills", as she not-so-eloquently put it, to ruin the Christmas photos. "I really owe you one. I'm glad you're not Gold."

"Don't worry, and I'll be cashing in when it's time to weed the garden in the spring," Regina quipped, though she didn't really mean it. It wasn't like she didn't know who was out there shoveling the Mercedes out of her driveway every time it snowed overnight. It certainly wasn't their son, who barely woke up in time to get dressed for school.

"Can't we just use magic to send them all downstairs for us?"

Regina frowned as she considered it. "I hadn't thought of that," she admitted. "I didn't have magic while Henry was growing up to be able to do that, so I always just…" she made a motion with her arms towards the bedroom door.

"Right," Emma said with a resigned huff, picking up a stack of rectangular boxes that any child would recognize as clothes. "I guess it's not really Christmas until the parents risk getting caught red-handed."

...

Henry woke much later than previous Christmas mornings. Adolescence was making him value sleep a little more, and after all, the presents weren't going anywhere. So it was 8:30 before he finally rolled out of bed. Still much earlier than he would normally wake on days off, but the whole presents gig hadn't completely lost its appeal.

He could smell the bacon his mom was cooking down in the kitchen as he shuffled to the bathroom in his oversized Chewbacca slippers. She was probably making crepes too, which was what she cooked every Christmas morning. It was nice to be back home for Christmas, even though last year with Emma felt like home, too. Last year, he had woken up early, and instead of staring at all the presents while waiting for his mom to wake up, he snuck into her room to try to wake her. He took one look at her sound asleep though, and decided against it. Instead, he had crawled into the bed beside her, careful not to wake her, and dozed back off himself. He woke a couple hours later to Emma bringing them hot chocolate in bed.

Just like Regina used to do when he would sneak into bed with her when he was little.

The toothbrush stopped in his mouth as he thought about all the times he remembered Regina bringing him hot chocolate in bed, and how Emma had done the same thing. He wondered if Emma now realized how much her behavior and parenting skills were imprinted by the curse. They mirrored Regina's.

The toothpaste started to burn his mouth, so he quickly spit and rinsed before splashing his face with cold water to make it look as if he had actually washed it. Satisfied that he looked half presentable (Christmas morning pajama pictures would last a horrible lifetime, after all), he turned off the bathroom light and nearly skipped down the stairs.

He peeked into the living room first, immediately getting even more excited at the pile of presents left under the tree. His mom still insisted on playing Santa, so this was his first glimpse at what treasures await him. Grinning ear to ear, he walked to the kitchen to find his mom and a plate of whatever smelled so amazing.

Just inches from the doorway, however, he skidded to a halt. He blinked a few times, not quite sure he was seeing correctly.

His mothers, both of them, were standing over the stove. It looked as if Regina was teaching Emma how to cook something, but that obviously couldn't be right, since Regina never let anyone touch her kitchen. Even Robin had attempted to make dinner once… "attempted" being the key word, and that ended with him being magically banished to the middle of the forest. In his mom's defense, Henry had warned him of her wrath.

So why did it look like a literal Christmas miracle was unfolding before him?

"You have the heat up too high. You're not trying to melt steel," Regina said, her voice teasing rather than full of malice. She adjusted the gas a little lower, and nodded when she was satisfied with the flame.

"You turned the burner on, so don't blame me!" Emma retorted.

Regina rolled her eyes as she dumped the burned mess in the disposal. She pointed to the bowl on the counter next to the stove. "Try again," she said, walking away to pull some fruit out of the fridge. "Pour, spread, wait patiently."

Henry chewed his bottom lip, waiting for the inevitable smoke to fill the kitchen. Emma had tried making crepes last year, having "remembered" they would eat them every Christmas. Unfortunately, they had ended up eating Cap'n Crunch instead, with Emma blaming everything from the milk to the cheap frying pan for her "sudden" lack of cooking skills.

"How's that?" Emma asked hesitantly.

Regina paused in her strawberry slicing to peek over the blonde's shoulder. "Good, it's ready to flip. See? I told you you'd get it."

Henry couldn't see her face, but Emma stood visibly taller at the compliment. A few moments later, she carefully slid the crepe onto a plate and moved it to the island. Regina nodded her approval with a smile. "Perfect. Well done, Emma."

"Mmm, I feel like a culinary master now," the blonde woman drawled sarcastically. She reached over and stole a piece of sliced berry from the cutting board and tossed it in the air. She skillfully caught it in her mouth, and just barely dodged out of the way of Regina's slap.

"Go finish the crepes!" Regina huffed, pointing to the stove with her knife. She sounded stern, but Henry could see the corners of her mouth trying not to turn up in a smile.

"Oh, you're no fun," Emma whined, and with ninja-like skills, quickly snatched another piece of fruit.

"Miss Swan!" Regina growled, but Emma only laughed.

Henry crept slowly away from the kitchen and back into the living room. His moms were getting along, and no way, no how was he going to interrupt that, even if it was starting to feel a little… weird. He curled up on the sofa instead and regarded the lit-up Christmas tree, deep in thought.

Chapter Text

Quiet solitude was something Emma Swan was accustomed to. It hadn't always been that way. Her childhood was filled with noisy foster and group homes, where even at night she'd have to tune out the sound of kids whimpering in the dark. However, once she was an adult and living on her own, she had to get used to the silence. It was hard to adjust at first, and even still, she prefers to sleep to the white noise of a fan on. Most of the time she couldn't afford cable TV, and all too often, she spent days (twice she went more than two weeks) without electricity. That is… when she wasn't outright homeless and bouncing around shelters and benches.

So sitting on her couch in the dark except for the Christmas tree in the corner? That was Emma's normal. She had tried to go to bed, but after an hour of tossing and turning she just gave up. Which is how she ended up sitting alone in the dark in her underwear. The furnace was stuck on full blast again (she really needed to get that fixed), so she was listening to the wind whistle past the open window. It was snowing again, and the sparkle of the flakes in the yellow street light was mesmerizing in her semi-inebriated state.

It gave her an idea. With a flick of her wrist, the streetlight was suddenly green. She smiled, watching the snowflakes fall in the new ethereal glow. Another flick, and the streetlight was bright pink. Grinning now, she had another brilliant idea. Holding her bottle of beer between her thighs, Emma held her hands up to the ceiling. Her hands glowed white, and a moment later, snowflakes began falling around her. They appeared out of nowhere somewhere near the ceiling, and essentially evaporated from the heat before hitting the floor. She tilted her head up and giggled when she caught a fluffy flake on her tongue.

"This is level ten pathetic, Miss Swan."

"Shit!" Emma nearly jumped out of her skin. The bottle of beer dropped to the floor, splashing over the old carpet. She quickly scooped it up and tossed her discarded hoodie over the small puddle to soak it up. She slammed the bottle on the coffee table a bit harder than necessary before glaring down her visitor.

"Regina, what the hell?" Emma growled.

"Really?" the mayor asked incredulously. She gestured towards the ceiling and the snowflakes falling from oblivion.

"What are you doing here?" Emma said stiffly, trying to pretend she wasn't blushing from being busted.

"I should ask you the same thing!" Regina huffed. "Every street light from here to the town line is flashing like a damn disco club. You nearly sent the dwarves into a panic. I'm probably going to go home to a fairy mob at my doorstep."

Emma avoided the mayor's glare by taking a slow swig of her warm beer. "I didn't mean to do all that. I was… I was bored," she mumbled. She sat back on the couch, lifting her feet to sit them on the edge of the coffee table as she hunched down lower.

"So I saw when I looked through the mirror." She gestured towards the overly ornate glass on the wall that was so definitely not Emma's.

"That mirror was supposed to be for Henry's protection, not spying on me!"

Regina rolled her eyes and with a wave of her hand, turned all of the street lights back to normal and put an end to the indoor snowing. "You seem to forget, Sheriff, that all magic comes with a price."

"Pretty sure I'm paying for it right now," the Emma grumbled.

Regina gazed at the blonde woman quietly for a long moment before releasing an almost inaudible sigh and taking a seat on the couch next to her. "I should probably thank you for giving me an excuse to leave that nauseating party."

"I warned you not to go," Emma told her with a shrug, only half paying attention as she contemplated whether or not she had the skills to make her beer cold again, or if she was more likely to shatter the glass in her hand and slice off half her fingers.

"The mayor can't not go to the town's New Years Eve celebration. But apparently the sheriff was under no such obligations."

Emma suddenly coughed, light and obviously fake. "Couldn't. I'm sick. In fact, you might want to leave before you catch it."

"Oh please," huffed Regina, as she pushed the sleeves up on her thick red sweater. The blonde had the apartment's temperature close to Death Valley in the middle of summer. "I'm pretty sure I can't catch Exboyfrienditis, and why the hell haven't you fixed that heater yet?"

Emma pointed at her accusingly. "First of all, if I have Exboyfrienditis, I caught it from you. Second, I rent this apartment from Dopey. Enough said."

"You have magic, Savior," Regina responded, pointedly ignoring the first statement.

"Uh, it's not good enough to fix a radiator from the 80's".

"It was just… snowing… in here," Regina annunciated slowly, as if speaking to an imbecile. Which of course she was.

Said "savior" threw her hands in the air. "It was a lucky shot! You were the one who taught me how to make it rain over Grumpy."

"He was drunk and smelled terrible. He needed a shower."

Emma sighed and stood up, pointing to the offending ancient machine. "Why don't you just fix it for me, show off, while I go climb into the fridge."

"If it'll convince you to put on pants."

Emma froze and looked down at her bare legs. She told herself the burning in her cheeks was from the scorching heat of the apartment. "You're the one who poofed into my living room unannounced." She shrugged after a moment and stood up a little straighter, feigning her usual confidence. "Besides," she said with a smirk. "It's nothing you haven't seen before."

It took a lot of effort, more than she'd care to admit to herself, but Regina managed to pry her eyes away from Emma's retreating rear assets and into a forced eye roll. With a wave of her hand, Regina made the radiator completely disappear. In its place was a small electric fireplace.

When Emma returned, she carried a sweating cold bottle of beer in each hand and, Regina noted, wore a pair of cutoff sweatpants that she was absolutely not disappointed to see. Definitely not. Emma paused in handing a bottle to the brunette, staring curiously at the new heat source. "Can you poof me in a 60-inch TV too?"

"Don't push your luck, Sheriff," Regina sassed as she reluctantly accepted the bottle. She gingerly took a sip, her eyebrows rising slightly at the apple taste. She looked closer at the label that read Angry Orchard before pinning Emma with a questioning stare.

"It's clearly not to the caliber of our dear mayor's cider, but I'm not a wine connoisseur, so I went with the safest option." Emma shrugged as she resumed her seat on the couch, tucking her feet up under her and nonchalantly taking a sip of her own Blue Moon.

Regina gazed at her for a long moment, pondering the strange fluttering that had suddenly filled her belly at the realization that Emma had obviously purchased something specifically for her, on the off-chance she might find herself at the sheriff's apartment again. With a small smile, she gave a shrug of her own and took another sip. "It's not the most terrible thing I've ever tasted."

Emma almost asked, almost - but decided it was probably safer not to. Instead, she took in the mayor's appearance for the first time, noting at some point Regina had discarded her usual killer heels under the table and was unconsciously wiggling her painted toes in her stockings. Emma barely stopped herself from trying to hide her own decidedly not pedicured feet. In fact, she was a little annoyed that somehow Regina could make her feel entirely underdressed in her own living room. "So how terrible was the party, anyway?"

As if she had been waiting for Emma to ask, Regina eagerly turned to face her, a black slack covered knee coming up to rest on the couch. "Your mother..." And that was all it took for a grin to break out across Emma's face. She turned and mirrored the brunette's posture, resting an elbow on the back of the couch as she took a long drink from her beer. She listened as Regina recounted a myriad of perceived atrocities, which included Hook and a few merry men playing what sounded like beer pong, David attempting to do the electric slide, and the mother of all horrors… Snow White and Ruby singing "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" karaoke style, while wearing plastic top hats and excessively large, glittery glasses.

"I'm surprised you lasted as long as you did," Emma stated when Regina seemed to be finished with her rant.

"I tried to leave. Three times, in fact!" Regina brushed her hair back from her face, and didn't seem to notice Emma's eyes following the movement. "But every time I'd get close to the door, your drunk mother grabbed me by the arm and literally dragged me into another awkward conversation with one of her idiotic friends who were probably talking animals in the Enchanted Forrest."

Emma chuckled, imagining the look of horror on Regina's face as her mother forced her into conversing with one of the three little pigs. "Why the hell am I not watching videos of this as we speak?"

Regina shrugged and took a long sip of her cider. It really wasn't all that terrible tasting. "It wasn't something I wanted to relive. But I'm sure Henry captured it all."

"Aww, I'm so glad," Emma said. She really was happy to hear her son was enjoying himself. "I just couldn't bring myself to go. I mean, I'm over Hook. But I just…" She sighed and snuggled deeper into the couch. "My mom wants so much to see me happy, and I think in her mind happiness equals "true love" and a big wedding with an ugly frilly dress and probably a bunch of stupid birds." At that the women shared a knowing look. "And I feel like even the town has this expectation of me. Like not only am I some magical savior, I'm also the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming and…" She trailed off with a shrug and gazed at the electric fire.

"Twoo Wuv," Regina mocked knowingly, following the savior's gaze. She had never really considered what it must be like for Emma being the progeny of such a beloved, nauseating couple. And for some unknown reason, it actually made her a little angry at Snow. "Your mother always was a clueless idiot."

Emma chose to remain silent on that one. She glanced at the clock on the wall and grabbed the remote for the tiny TV sitting on an old nightstand opposite the couch. She quickly clicked through the channels until she landed on Carson Daly's face. "We still have half an hour till the ball drops, but we can watch a few terrible live performances."

"I've never actually seen the ball drop," Regina admitted as she stared at the massive crowd on the screen. "The curse… would've been hard to explain to a town full of people frozen in time, I suppose."

"I've actually been there," Emma said. "It's not all it's cracked up to be. For one we had to be there so early. It was freezing, people were just packed together like sardines. I had to pee so damn bad by the end of the night."

Regina watched as a woman on screen interviewed a group of college-aged kids from the crowd and found she could easily imagine Emma being one of them. "You know you really don't have to keep proving to me that you're an idiot. I'm quite aware of your genetics."

Before Emma could respond, her phone buzzed on the coffee table. "No no no no nooo," she whined as she looked at the screen. "Can I get just one night? Just one freaking night?!" With a huff she slid her finger across the bar and brought the phone to her ear. "Sheriff Swan," she grumbled into the phone. Regina watched quietly as green eyes closed in defeat. "Yeah… I'll be right there."

"Trouble in paradise?" Regina asked.

Emma shot her a look as she pulled herself off the couch. "Granny's. Sounds like the party is getting out of control. You know, maybe next time you curse an entire realm you could actually send us to paradise. Somewhere warm. Preferably no other people."

An eyebrow raised, Regina collected their empty bottles. "That's not a curse, dear, that's a honeymoon."

Of course, Emma didn't hear a word she said as she was already in her room presumably changing. Regina tossed the bottles in the trash and was reapplying her lipstick in the enchanted mirror when Emma appeared behind her.

"You coming with me or poofing home?"

Brown eyes caught green in the reflection, and then Regina's gaze lowered. She blinked twice before turning around to verify she wasn't hallucinating.

She very much wasn't. Emma Swan, skinny jean aficionado, lover of ugly sweaters and red leather jackets, was wearing her full Storybrooke Sheriff uniform. With an elastic held between soft pink lips, Regina watched as Emma quickly pulled her hair up into a messy ponytail. Suddenly realizing she was gawking, she cleared her throat and quickly turned back to the mirror. "Why the sudden professionalism, Sheriff? I didn't even know you had a uniform."

Emma's hands found her own hips, pushing her unzipped department-issued jacket out of the way to display her full tactical belt with gun holstered. "You were the one who demanded they exist."

"Yes, but you never actually wear it." Giving up the pretense of fixing her makeup, Regina turned around and absolutely did not let her eyes stray from Emma's. "Which brings us back to…" She swept her hand to indicate the sheriff's body. "Why?"

"Because if I'm going to get puked on tonight, I'd rather it be on this polyester bullshit than my actual clothes. Are you coming with me or not?"

"Yes, I'm coming with you," Regina snapped as she pushed past the blonde to slide on her heels. "If this party is truly getting that out of hand it's time to bring Henry home."

"Emma's here! Oh I knew you'd come!"

The moment her mother's body crashed into hers was the moment Emma realized she had made a terrible mistake.

"Mom… please, tell me you didn't call the emergency line to get me to come to the party."

"I tried to talk her out of it," Henry said, appearing at her side. "Hey moms. I wondered where you had disappeared to," he said to Regina.

Regina stepped in from behind Emma, giving mother and daughter a disgusted look. "Apparently your mother can't be left unsupervised."

"You have to come sing karaoke!" Mary Margaret shrieked a little too loudly.

"And that's my cue to go back to my friends," Henry said, handing his mom the coat and purse she had left behind in her sudden departure.

"Mom," Emma huffed as she yanked her hands out of her mother's grasp. "I'm not singing. And I can't believe you faked an emergency to get me here. How much have you had to drink?"

"I've only had two!" she whined as she held up three fingers.

"She's always been a lightweight," Regina muttered into her ear, and Emma hoped she didn't notice the goosebumps that suddenly trailed across her neck.

"Okay, well I think it's time we take a break. Where's dad?"

"He's over there with the boys," Mary Margaret replied, pointing some place behind her.

Emma's eyes tracked to the back of the restaurant and she really wished they hadn't.

"Emma…"

"Regina, oh my God."

"Are Hook and Charming measuring…"

"Please say their biceps."

"Well, that's enough party for me," Regina affirmed, turning towards the door.

Emma quickly grabbed a hold of her arm. "Oh, no you don't. There are only a few minutes left till midnight, you're not dragging Henry out of here early." She nodded towards the bar where there was an empty stool waiting. "Let's just go sit over there and try to ignore everyone's existence."

Regina muttered under her breath as Emma guided her (dragged her, really) over to the counter. Shoving her coat and purse at Emma, she slid onto the bar stool and crossed her legs, looking every bit the regal she was. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she turned towards the short man on the seat next to her. Bashful, she thought, based on the significant blush that crept up to his hairline the moment they made eye contact. Twenty seconds ticked by as Regina held his gaze, and as if suddenly catching a clue, the man nearly fell off the stool in his haste to vacate the seat.

"Sheriff, I mean, I'm going to, I mean you can take –"

"Thank you," Emma said, taking pity on the poor man before he wet himself. She gave Regina an irritated glare as she clambered onto the stool next to her, still holding the woman's coat and purse. "That was a bit unnecessary."

Regina shrugged as she turned around to get Granny's attention. Emma let her gaze wander around the diner. There was confetti everywhere as if the patrons couldn't wait to pull the small poppers lying around waiting for midnight. Shiny streamers hung from the ceiling, and nearly every guest was wearing some sort of glittery plastic accessory. The music was playing louder than usual, and everyone seemed to be shouting to be heard over it. Emma hated it.

Moments later, Mary Margaret appeared in front of her wearing a grin from ear to ear. "You need to be festive!" she shrieked, as she shoved a cardboard "Happy New Year" tiara onto Emma's head.

"No, thank you," Emma ground out through clenched teeth. She reached up to pull the monstrosity off her head but a warm hand clasped onto her wrist.

"You should leave it on, Princess. Join the party."

The icy glare Regina received only spurred her on. She reached up and tweaked the headband straight. "It's quite charming." With an evil grin that might have made peasants shudder in a previous life, Regina booped Emma's nose before spinning back around on her stool and taking a sip of coffee.

"Your moms are so adorable," Ava sighed, a dreamy grin playing on her lips.

"More like pathetic," Nick muttered. "Your mom is so whipped."

Grace giggled beside him. "Which one?"

"Guys!" Henry huffed, his face bright red in embarrassment. His grandmother's shriek had caught the attention of literally everyone, and they all watched as his mom actually booped Emma's nose and oh God it was horrifying.

"Oh come on, Henry. You told us they kissed on Christmas."

"Wait… what?" Ruby stopped in her tracks as she walked past their table returning from the restroom. Turning on her heel, she pinned the poor boy with a stare and slid into the booth across from him, not paying any attention to the other teens she literally squished out of the way.

"Henry, how dare you not tell your auntie Ruby such a delicious morsel of gossip?"

Henry wondered, briefly, if a portal would open and swallow him up if he merely wished hard enough.

"Well?" Ruby encouraged, glancing around the table hoping at least one of the kids would spill the beans.

"There was mistletoe," Grace offered.

"Emma kissed Regina," Ava added.

"It wasn't like that!" Henry nearly shouted. He blushed harder when he realized the adults around them had all turned to stare at him. His gaze dropped as he stared hard at the melamine tabletop. His moms were gonna kill him. Clearing his throat, he took a deep breath before recounting his story.

Chapter Text

Emma stood in the doorway to the living room, smiling softly as she watched David drive a toy train around on the floor in front of her brother. He was making all the appropriate "chugga chugga choo choo" sounds, and it made her heart hurt just a little bit. She tried not to let her mind wander into dark places, but the thought that this is what it might have been like if… No. She needed to stop.

Regina sidled up next to her sipping on a fresh glass of wine. "This wasn't so bad today," she muttered under her breath. Emma wasn't sure if she was meant to hear it or not, but she replied nonetheless.

"It was the best Christmas I've ever had," she said honestly. She didn't need to explain why. "Thank you for this morning. I'm glad I was able to be here."

"So am I," Regina admitted. She took another sip of her wine and leaned against the opposite side of the doorframe, her left arm wrapping across her middle as she contemplated. "I hate to think we don't have many Christmas mornings left with him".

"Stop," Emma pleaded, closing her eyes against the thought. "In my mind he's still ten. Let me live in my fantasy world."

"Moms," Henry interrupted, stepping between them to get their attention. A pleading smile was plastered on his face. "The dishes are done and leftovers put away. Can I go play my new Xbox now?" He looked back and forth between his mothers when he didn't receive a response. "Um… what?"

"Nothing, darling," Regina finally answered as she reached up to fix a few misplaced strands of his hair. "You're just growing too fast."

Henry looked at Emma for help, but found the same sappy look on her face. "You guys are being weird again."

Emma laughed and shrugged. "It's in our job description. Imagine how weird it would be being the same age as us." She pointedly turned her gaze to her own parents. Her mother was in the arm chair recording Neil doing absolutely nothing remarkable while her father had seemingly given up on the train and switched to beating on the toy xylophone Regina had gifted him – because of course she bought him the loudest toys of all.

Henry scrunched up his face and shook his head. "Ew, I'd rather not."

Emma merely sighed. "You can go play if your mom's okay with it. But you have to say goodnight to your grandparents first cause I know we won't see you back down here anytime soon." Emma looked to Regina for confirmation, but something above them caught her eye. She lifted her eyes to the green leaves and small red berries hanging from the doorframe. She didn't remember seeing it there before, and wondered who the hell had put it there, and why?

Regina followed her gaze and chuckled, a devious smile forming on her lips. She looked at her son and then to Emma, raising an eyebrow in question.

Emma nodded, her own lips fighting a smile. Needing no verbal instructions, she grabbed her son and pulled him into a bear hug.

"Mistletoe!" she shouted, puckering up her lips.

"No!" Henry choked out, attempting to push the woman away. "Gross, ma! Stop!"

"Me first!" Regina declared, leaning in to lay one on his cheek.

And that's when things went so terribly wrong.

It was like a scene from one of those horrible holiday Hallmark movies his grandmother loved so much. Henry ducked out of the way, finally breaking free from Emma's grasp just as his mothers had leaned into him for a kiss...

Emma's breath caught in her throat as their lips crashed together. Regina froze in place. David dropped the plastic mallet onto the purple bell with a high C clang, and then the room fell into silence that lasted an eternity. Or so it seemed to Henry.

The sound of a throat clearing had the women finally springing apart, staring at each other in wide-eyed… horror? No, Henry thought. Not so much. Oh, this was so damn awkward.

"Well," Mary Margaret chirped. "It's nearly Neal's bedtime, so we should be on our way. Henry, dear, can you help David load all the toys into the car?"

"Wait," Ruby said, holding her hand up to signal him to stop. "That's it? That's the big kiss?"

Henry's face scrunched up in disgust. "What did you expect?"

Ruby shrugged. "At least a little tongue action, make it actually interesting."

"Gross. You're not my aunt anymore."

"Don 't be like that," the brunette said as she stood back up from the table. "We might still be in luck tonight. We're less than…" She glanced at her watch. "Oh shit, two minutes till midnight!" A round of cheers bounced around the diner as everyone scrambled to grab a confetti popper or cardboard horn.

"The longest two minutes of my life," Emma muttered. Regina had to agree as she watched the chaos around her. Movement to their left caught her eye, and her face transformed into fury.

"Swan!" The smell of rum suddenly assaulted her senses and Emma's stomach dropped to the floor. She spun around on her stool with a murderous glint in her eyes.

"Killian," she growled. "What the hell do you want?"

The pirate shrugged, completely ignoring the fireball that had suddenly formed in the mayor's hand. "I thought I'd offer my services. I hear it's bad luck to not get a kiss at- "

He didn't get to finish his sentence. An invisible force suddenly propelled him across the room, crashing against a table and sending napkins and a bowl of tortilla chips flying. A moment later, his black denim jeans were set on fire.

Nobody could hear his squeals over the din of the crowd, but the few people around him dodged away to avoid the flames. Otherwise, no one paid the spectacle any mind, either too drunk to care or too scared to interfere.

"No magic, you two!" Granny shouted from behind them. "You'll be setting my damn diner on fire."

"Regina did it," Emma accused, as the woman in question waved her hand and sent a wave of water pouring over Hook.

"It was a controlled fire," Regina huffed. "I wasn't the one who sent him flying and covered everyone in a 10 foot radius with Dorito dust."

A slow turn of her head, and Emma just stared.

"Ten… nine…"

An evil smirk appeared on ruby red lips.

"Eight… seven…"

"You're exasperating, you know that?"

"Six…five..."

"Such big words, Sheriff."

"Four…"

"Bite me."

"Three…two…"

"Is that a challenge?"

"One!"

The crowd exploded in a shout of "Happy new year!" as horns blew and confetti burst in the air. Somewhere in the back kitchen someone was banging pots and pans, but the mayor and the sheriff took no notice as their eyes continued to battle each other.

Emma's gaze moved from one dark eye to the other, and her breathing hitched when those eyes dropped to her lips.

"Happy New Year!" The squeal alone would have been enough to break the spell, but the arms suddenly wrapped tightly around Emma's neck sealed the deal.

"Mom," Emma coughed out. "I can't breathe."

Paying her daughter no mind, Mary Margaret turned to Regna and grinned. "Happy New Year!" she shouted again, releasing the blonde as she reached towards the grimacing queen.

"Absofuckinglutely not," Regina growled and held up her hand with a deadly glare.

Mary Margaret froze, and then burst into drunken giggles. "I don't think I've ever heard you use the 'F' word!"

"Desperate times." Her eyes surveyed the room looking for her son and spotted him just as Grace planted a shy kiss on the corner of his mouth . She watched the blush rise in her baby boy's cheeks and had to look away, her eyes falling on Emma's sympathetic gaze.

"Time to go," Emma said quietly. She slid off the barstool and held Regina's coat open for her.

"No," Regina sighed. She slid her arms through her coat sleeves and tugged it closed. "I'll find my way home. Let Henry stay a bit longer. You can take him home with you later."

Emma nodded quietly and led the mayor to the door. She pushed it open for her with a soft smile. "Your majesty," she said with a flourish of her hand.

Regina returned the smile and stepped out into the bitter cold. "Chivalry will get you everywhere, Miss Swan."

The days following New Years were uneventful, to say the least. Most people were too hungover the following day to venture out, and by day two of the new year, everyone had to drag themselves back to work or school after their extended holiday break. The sheriff's station was blessedly quiet. It gave Emma more than enough time to catch up on case reports and naps in between snacks and the occasional patrol around town so people knew she was still alive.

The latter was of the utmost importance, considering how sick she was. Deathly ill, if she were to describe it. Snot dripping everywhere, hacking up a lung, and of course the sexy forty-year smoker voice that had eventually escalated to barely there. She'd stay home, but her father was just as sick and substitute deputies were in short supply. As long as she could walk without passing out, Emma dragged her ass to work.

The worst part of being sick was being forced to quarantine away from society. Mary Margaret had unceremoniously kicked David out and sent him to Emma's so they could "keep their germs to themselves" and away from the baby. It also meant they were forbidden from going to Granny's or the grocery store, forcing them to subsist on her mother's meals she left outside their door. Casseroles. So. Many. Casseroles. It was as if Mary Margaret thought neither of them had the intelligence to do anything more than heat up the oven. Now on day six of the cold that would not just go the fuck away, if Emma had to eat one more tuna covered noodle, she'd pack up her car and go quarantine in a whole 'nother town. Hell, maybe in a whole different state.

"Mom?"

Emma jumped in her chair, a light string of drool stretching from her lip to her sleeve where she had previously been napping. "Henry," she croaked out. "What the hell are you doing here? You need to go away. Far away. Don't come any closer."

At least her son had the decency to look more sympathetic than alarmed, or completely grossed out. "Mom sent me to check on you. She said she's been calling but you're not answering the phone."

"Huh?" Emma scanned her desk for her cell, then patted her hoodie and pants down until she found it in her left butt pocket. "Oh," is all she said when she saw the ridiculous number of missed calls, and increasingly snarky texts from the mayor.

"She said to tell you, and I quote, 'take her ass home'," he read from his phone. He glanced back at her, eyebrows raised in surprise. "You know if mom cussed in a text to me, she must be serious."

Emma sighed and contemplated her options. She could stay, and continue to be miserable. Or she could listen to her boss, go home, put on her comfiest pajamas, and crawl into bed and sleep for the next century. She nearly moaned at the thought of such bliss.

"Fine," she said, pretending to be giving in to such a ridiculous demand. She stood up and pulled her heavy winter coat off the back of her desk chair. "But how much do I need to pay you to go and bring me a grilled cheese from Granny's? I can't eat any more of my mom's concoctions."

Henry grimaced apologetically. "I'm sorry, I can't. I have to meet Nick at his house to finish a group report we're working on. Mom doesn't want me out late because of the snow storm that's coming."

Emma groaned. She forgot about the storm, and the mere thought of having to shovel snow made her want to cry. "That's alright, kid. I'm probably not even going to stay awake long enough to eat." She shooed him towards the door with her arm. "Come on, I'll walk you to Nick's."

By the time Emma got home, the snot in her nose had frozen into literal icicles and the cough had gotten uglier. She stood in the hot shower, letting the steam thaw out her lungs until the water ran cold. Finally dressed in her last clean comfortable clothes – a pair of plaid flannel pants and a gray henley – she crawled into her unmade bed and was asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

...

Somewhere in her subconscious Emma registered something odd. Her brain tried to unscramble the mystery to no avail as it slowly pulled her from sleep. Emma opened her eyes to a pitch-black bedroom. She had no idea what time it was, and was too groggy to guess how long she'd been asleep. A noise in the kitchen caught her attention, and she lay quietly for a moment listening carefully. David, she decided, must've been heating up the evening's gourmet faire. She mentally shrugged and rolled over, tugging the covers up over her head.

A clang followed by a muffled curse that was decidedly not David's voice. Emma shot up in bed and stared at her bedroom door. Now she felt obligated to investigate because frankly, her mother waking her up at oh-dark-thirty-whatever of the night was taking it too far. Throwing the covers back in a mild tantrum, she slid out of bed and ran her fingers through her tangled hair. Meeting knotted resistance, she gave up and decided "fuck it" would continue to be the theme of the night.

She shuffled out of her room, sniffing back the gross sinus congestion and rubbing the crust out of her eyes as she entered the kitchen. "Listen, I love you, but -"

Emma froze in the middle of the kitchen.

There stood Regina Mills, dressed to impress in a black pencil skirt and white blouse, wooden mixing spoon stirring something steaming in a pot she didn't even know she owned (she probably didn't). And all the while Emma herself stood there staring like an idiot, mouth breathing, probably looking like a bog monster. "Oh."

"Oh?" And of course Regina's eyebrows were in her hairline.

"Not who I was expecting." Emma's hand flew back to her hair, but there wasn't any saving it. Or her.

Something flashed across the brunette's face, but it was swiftly hidden behind a tight smile. "I'm sorry," Regina apologized sincerely. "I didn't mean to wake you. The lid slipped out of my hand." Said lid was promptly replaced on top of the pot and the spoon placed on a – I definitely don't own a whatever it's called, she thought.

"Okay…" Emma said slowly. "Not that I'm disappointed, but what are you doing here? You know this apartment is like a toxic biohazard zone."

Regina shrugged a shoulder and picked up a small glass bottle Emma hadn't noticed sitting on the counter. "I came to bring you this. I didn't have any on hand unfortunately, and it takes several days to brew. But it should help clear up whatever disease you've been spreading." She handed Emma the bottle and turned back to the stove. "Henry had mentioned something about starving sheriffs, so I thought I'd go ahead and make you chicken soup while I was here."

If Emma wasn't currently host to a billion rhinovirus spores, she would've kissed the woman, got down on one knee and proclaimed her undying fealty.

"Well you've certainly set your standards low, Miss Swan, if soup is all it takes. But I'll keep that in mind."

Emma blinked in horror. Did I just say that out loud? Oh my God. This is why I don't take NyQuil. Her standards weren't that low, but she'd propose to Granny if she appeared at her door with a bear claw at the moment. Ok, maybe the bar was a bit low. But Regina was definitely not low bar. And this train of thought should probably cease and desist.

"Sit down, Miss Swan, before you keel over," Regina demanded, pointing to the table behind her. Emma silently obeyed like the good peasant she was. She considered the small bottle in her hand filled with a weird soylent green liquid. "So, how much am I supposed to drink of this?" she asked.

"All of it," Regina replied, setting a bowl of steaming hot soup in front of her. "In a rare moment of generosity, I brought a vial for your father too."

Emma scrunched up her nose but pulled the stopper out anyway. She brought the bottle to her lips, but paused at the weird look on the mayor's face. "What?" she asked a bit nervously.

"Nothing," Regina denied, but continued anyway. "I was just… you didn't even hesitate."

Emma stared at the woman like she had lost her mind. She glanced at the bottle in her hand, studying the decidedly gross looking liquid inside.

"Why would I?" Emma asked, genuinely confused. Without wasting any more time, she tipped the tiny bottle back, swallowing the contents in one go. It wasn't as awful as she had expected. Sort of a weird… grass flavor? "Thanks," she muttered, setting the empty vial on the table. Her attention turned to the soup, and her mouth watered at the plethora of noodles, carrots, and chunks of chicken poking out of the golden broth. "You're a true hero," she said, shoveling a spoonful of the most delicious thing she'd eaten in over a week into her mouth.

Regina chuckled as she placed the pot of soup into the warmed oven. "I'm running out of sheriffs, Sheriff. I'm merely concerned about my town's safety."

"Of course you are," Emma mumbled around a mouthful of dumpling. Good God the woman actually made dumplings from scratch. They were like little cloud broth sponges. "You keep being mean to me, I'm taking back my pledge of undying fealty."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Regina drawled. "Did I miss you getting down on your knees for me?"

Emma choked on a carrot in the most unattractive way possible.

...

Emma woke the next morning feeling like a completely different human. She had taken a deep breath and was delighted to discover her chest was clear, she could breathe through her nose, and the perpetual sinus headache had all disappeared. She climbed out of bed with energy she hadn't felt in days and peered out the window. The sun was extra bright, and it took her a moment to realize it was because there was a thick layer of snow covering the ground. She rested her head on the cold glass with a thunk and sighed. Of freaking course, she thought to herself. I'm finally alive again and I have to deal with a blizzard.

She glanced at her alarm clock to see it was still fairly early (for her standards, at least). Resigned to her fate of repaying certain favors, she pulled out some leggings from the laundry and added her loose fit jeans over them. A hoodie, thick wool socks, snow boots, and a parka rounded out the least attractive outfit she could possibly put together. She grabbed her favorite beanie and new soft lined gloves (a Christmas gift from Regina), before bracing herself for the inevitable.

It was cold, but it wasn't blisteringly so. There was hardly any wind, which was a good thing. She stopped at her car to grab her sunglasses and had to struggle slightly to get the frozen door open. There wouldn't be any driving in this mess.

She began her trek through town, trudging through a good foot of snow on the sidewalks. The city maintenance crews were likely focusing on the roads first, and most business owners would probably open late for the day, if at all, and school would undoubtedly be closed. Twenty minutes later she arrived at her destination, slightly winded from the extra effort it took to walk through snow that deep. She bypassed the front door and walked straight to the garage. Lifting the door open and sidestepping the Mercedes, she grabbed the heavy-duty, back-saving snow shovel that had made its "mysterious" arrival the last snowstorm she helped Henry shovel through and sent the mayor a silent thank you. Even though, Emma grumbled to herself, she could've just bought a damn snow blower.

Emma started closest to the house, throwing the snow into the yard and creating a growing pile of winter hell. It was a wet and heavy snow, and Emma spared a brief thought for her sweatpants, hot chocolate, and thick fuzzy blanket in front of the small electric fireplace that still sat in place of the old radiator. But no, she owed the mayor for whatever elixir she fed her the night before and magic Emma was certain she put in the soup, so she continued on down the driveway at what felt like a snail's pace.

"Henry?" Regina rapped her knuckles on her son's bedroom door before slowly opening it. She found him awake, wrapped up in his comforter and scrolling through his phone.

"Hey mom," he said, sparing her a brief sleepy glance.

"Good morning, sweetheart. It's time for you to get up. There's a lot of snow outside."

When he was little, that statement would have been met with excitement. Now, however, it earned her a frustrated groan because it meant work for him.

"Can't we just wait for it to melt?" he whined.

"No, we can not," Regina said sternly. "Your mother has been out there for half an hour already. You need to get your behind outside to help her."

Of course she has, Henry thought. Because she's totally whipped and it's gross. Since Christmas, Henry had become what his friends called "enlightened". He could no longer deny the changing chemistry between his mothers, and it certainly wasn't one-sided either. The worst part, in his not so humble opinion, was that both women seemed absolutely, completely oblivious to it.

"Now," his mother said, the final warning clear in her voice.

Knowing resistance was futile; he did what he was told – though he took his sweet time doing it.

Emma glanced up when she heard the front door close, and smiled as she watched her son waddle through the heavy snow in actual ski pants, as if anyone in Storybrooke had ever, or could ever, go skiing.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Emma grinned at the resulting glare she received.

Henry huffed as he stomped by. "Just because you and mom have this weird thing going on, doesn't mean you have to suck up and shovel our freaking driveway. Don't you have sheriff things to do?"

"Wait, what?" Emma asked, eyebrows disappearing behind gray wool. "We do not have…" Emma blinked, reconsidering the words that nearly escaped. Deciding that was a bunny trail for later, she cleared her throat and pointed towards the garage instead. "I'd appreciate you grabbing that other shovel and getting to work," she ended lamely.

Henry rolled his eyes and glared at the older shovel with a worn orange plastic blade. If his moms were going to make him help, they could have at least bought two awesome shovels.

"Hey ma?" he asked, voice full of innocence. "Do you wanna build a snowman?" Distraction, he thought. Deflection. Dangle something fun in front of her, and Emma would snatch it up. He may have learned a thing or two from Emma's own playbook. Or maybe it was his other mother's. He'd witnessed Regina manipulating the blonde enough to… ew. His thoughts rightfully replaced "manipulating" with "flirting", and his newly enlightened brain shuddered.

Emma had paused to consider the idea. It would still kinda help remove some of the driveway snow. "Does it have to be a snowman?"

Two hours had gone by, and then three. Regina was starting to wonder what was taking her snow minions so long. She set the timer on the oven, turned the burner down to low, and pulled off the apron she wore to cover her leggings and sweatshirt she would deny even owning. Exactly two people in this town had ever seen her dressed so casually, and they were both curiously missing. Stopping first to peek at the mirror in the foyer to check for errant flour on her face, she meandered into the living room to peer out the window.

The scene outside brought a warm smile to her face. Emma and Henry were standing in front of a giant mound of snow in the yard. And by giant, she really did mean gigantic. It was a bit taller than Emma, and at least eight feet wide. Henry's blue plastic toboggan sled was leaning up against the mountain, and as Regina watched, he moved it aside for Emma to walk into the snow mountain before following her inside. She waited for mother and son to reappear, but after several minutes, they remained camped inside. Shaking her head, she made her way back to the kitchen and put a pot of milk on the stove to simmer.

"I think we need a sky light," Henry observed, pondering the igloo ceiling. "Let some more light in here."

Emma, who was busy sculpting a "chair" out of the wall, nodded in agreement. "Don't make it too large, though. We don't want the whole damn thing to collapse on us."

"That would definitely suck." He grabbed his shovel and, in what he figured was the center, slowly used the handle to chip a hole into the ceiling. When he broke through, he used his hand to make it a little larger. Only a few inches, but it was enough to let the sun stream through. "There," he said, with a satisfied nod. He leaned the shovel against the wall and took a seat on his own makeshift little bench.

A knock on the plastic "door" made both heads swivel. Emma stood up and reached for the sled, but froze. Smirking to herself, she raised her voice. "What's the secret password?"

A confused pause lingered before an answering, "I have hot chocolate."

The door swung open so quickly Regina almost spilled the mugs in her hands. The blonde in front of her grinned and waved her inside. "Welcome to our humble abode, madam mayor."

"Mom! You gotta see this!"

Regina peered dubiously inside, having no desire to be trapped in a catastrophic collapse. But she'd never deny her enthusiastic son, no matter how much she doubted his blonde mother's construction skills (she saw the gingerbread house), so she hesitantly walked into the cramped space. "Oh wow," she forced out. "Isn't this… charming."

"You really gotta remove that word form your lexicon," Emma said wryly. "And yes, I know that five dollar word because I memorized it just so I could use it against you some day. Sit," she invited, unzipping her heavy parka and pulling it off to lay it over the flat seat built into the igloo wall.

"Miss Swan, you're going to freeze!"

Emma rolled her eyes and took a seat, patting the space beside her. "It's an igloo, Regina. Insulated. It's really not that bad in here and I'm wearing, like, three layers."

Regina eyed her doubtfully, but not having an excuse not to, she handed one of the steaming mugs to Henry before taking a seat gingerly on the small snow bench. She felt utterly ridiculous.

"So what do you think?" Emma asked. She reached over and took the other steaming mug from Regina's hands, careful not to spill any on her. She took a very cautious sip, not wanting to scorch her tongue and remove all taste buds for a week.

"Yeah, mom, isn't it so cool?"

"So cool," Regina said, using that tone of voice usually reserved for kindergartners making you taste their breakfast concoction of three cereals, maple syrup, and a pop tart. Not one of her fondest memories of her son. Emma nudged her with her shoulder and she let out a pained sigh. Emma was full of shit - it was freaking freezing was what it was, even pressed up close against the blonde. And she still wasn't convinced they wouldn't all end up buried in snow at any moment. These are the things she wanted to say, but instead, "it really is impressive, Henry."

"I think we need a table," Henry said. "That would make the space more functional."

Emma watched Regina's face as she sipped her cocoa. It was obvious the woman was genuinely pondering the idea, though she was a bit skeptical.

"I think you're right, dear. And I bet I can help with that."

"You are going to shovel snow?" Emma asked incredulously.

"Of course not. Why the hell would I do that?" Regina stretched out her hand and called a swift breeze of snow to sweep through the door and form a rectangular snow block in the center of the tight space.

"Awesome!" Henry patted the top of the sturdy table with a grin. "Thanks, mom! Can you teach Emma that for next time?"

"Show off," Emma whispered and received a smug look in return. Suddenly the mug was stolen from her hands, and she let out an indignant huff. "I was drinking that!"

"Hmph," was all Regina said as she wrapped her frozen fingers around the still-steaming mug and took a sip, scrunching her nose slightly at the hint of cinnamon her son and his mother liked so much. Her hands were suddenly empty again as Emma stole the mug back and held it out of her reach like a child. "Mine."

In a blink, the mug disappeared from Emma's hand and reappeared in Regina's. She took another delicate sip, her eyes dancing over the rim of the mug.

Emma stared at her empty hand like an idiot before leveling the other woman with a fake glare. "Not fair, your majesty. Give it back."

Regina raised an eyebrow in challenge. "Make me."

"Okay," Henry interrupted, having plenty enough of his mothers' flirting again. God, it was getting ridiculous. "I'm starving."

"Well it's a good thing I have tomato soup on the stove," Regina said, finally acknowledging her son's existence again. "Why don't I make the grilled cheese sandwiches while you two dry off and warm up?"

Emma's stomach suddenly growled so loud it literally echoed around the snow walls.

"I guess that answers that."

Chapter Text

The sheriff’s station on Wednesday mornings was usually fairly quiet, but today was exceptionally so. The town of Storybrook was all but closed down due to the second snow storm that piled another several inches of snow on top of the first. With school and most businesses closed, everyone who had any sense was sitting at home, warm and snug right now.

Except for the sheriff’s department because, as it turns out, snow doesn’t stop the need for public safety. Or something. An early morning text from the mayor warned Emma that there was paperwork due on her desk by noon, and weather would not make an exception. A phone call to David and a few hours later here they were, scribbling away multiple reports of teenage vandalism, lost cats, and public intoxication.

“How do you spell graffiti?”

“With ‘F’s,” Emma answered, not looking up from her report about missing chicken eggs. This town seriously needed to chill.

“Wait, what? That doesn’t make any sense.”

Emma sighed and rubbed her eyes. “It’s English, nothing ever makes sense.”

David stared at the paper for a moment, working out the linguistic puzzle in his mind before deciding to write “drawings” instead. He checked his watch and made a hissing sound. “Heads up, kiddo. It’s 12:05.”

“Shit!” Emma surveyed the mess of papers on her desk and sighed. “How do you suppose I’m getting in trouble this time?”

David handed her the stack of reports he had finished. “If you hurry over there, maybe you’ll get lucky. It’s not so late.”

Emma had her doubts but pulled on her coat and tucked the papers into a folder like some sort of professional.

She reached the mayor’s receptionist by 12:27. “You’re late,” Johanna said, shaking her head.

“I know. I brought bribery though. What kind of mood is she in?”

As if to answer, the door to the mayor’s office suddenly flung open to reveal three very angry looking dwarves.

“This is madness!” Doc all but shouted.

“Shhh!” Sneezy hushed. “She can still hear you!”

“Great,” Emma sighed.

“I’ll say a prayer for you,” the receptionist whispered.

“Johanna!” Both women jumped as the signature click of stilettos quickly got closer. “Have you seen my… oh, there it is. Thank you,” she said gratefully as the receptionist held out a small black leather-bound book. It was then that Regina noticed Emma standing hesitantly off to the side with a folder tucked up under her arm, a plastic bag in one hand, and a large coffee-to-go in the other.

“Oh, thank God,” Regina said by way of greeting. Without further ado, she took the coffee from the blonde’s hand and walked back into her office.

Emma let out the breath she was holding and glanced at the receptionist. The other woman looked just as shocked as she felt.

“Close the door,” Regina instructed as Emma followed her into the office. Emma did as she was told before turning to face the mayor.

“Sorry I’m late,” Emma said hesitantly as she handed over the manila folder. “There were more cats in trees than we thought.”

Regina barely spared the folder a glance before setting it off to the side on her desk and taking a seat in her plush leather chair. “It’s fine, as long as that’s lunch and it’s not a grilled cheese.”

“I hope chicken salad is acceptable,” Emma answered as she pulled a to-go container out of the bag.

“Perfect.” Regina opened the container and pulled out the little cup of dressing. “Sit down and stop looking like you’re waiting for me to singe your ass with a fireball.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t think about it,” Emma muttered as she did as she was told, opening her own lunch container.

“Only for like, four seconds.”

“Right. So how was your morning, your ‘I can teleport and therefore snow doesn’t affect my commute’ majesty?”

Regina shook her head as she swallowed a bite of her salad. “If I opened a portal and shoved all the dwarves through it, do you think the town would lynch me, or burn me at the stake? Because I’m willing to take the risk.”

“It’s your fault for working today,” Emma pointed out. “Would this hypothetical portal fit an ex-pirate?”

“I would make sure of it. What has he done now?”

Emma thought back to this morning. Seeing Hook walk into Granny’s, the sighting was enough to make her decide she didn’t really need a bear claw and that was just tragic.

“Exist.”

“He'll be the first one through.”

Emma’s phone buzzed. She wiped her hands on her jeans before fishing it out of her jacket pocket. “Henry wants to know if he can go meet his friends at the park. Apparently, they’re sled riding or something.”

Regina glanced at her phone which remained silent. “I guess he’s asking ‘the fun’ mom?”

“Wouldn’t you?” Emma quipped as she quickly typed back. Ask your mom, it’s her week with you.

The ellipses on the screen stared at her for a long moment. I figured I had a 90% chance you were sitting with her. So did she say yes?

“Your son is a little shit,” Emma mumbled.

“No, that’s your son. My son is an angelic little prince.”

“Uh huh.” Be home by 5 and don’t do anything stupid.

“Alright, we’re good,” Henry said. He tugged on his beanie and grabbed his sled from where it leaned against the garage.

Grace, who had been peeking at his phone over his shoulder, chewed on her bottom lip. “How do you really feel about it?”

“About what?” Henry asked.

Grace shrugged. “Your moms…and how they are with each other. Do you actually hate it? Sometimes you act like you do, but sometimes you don’t.”

Henry took some time to really think about it as they walked down the snow-covered sidewalk towards the park, where Nick and Ava would meet them at the biggest hill. How did he feel about? “It’s a little weird,” he admitted. “They went from hating each other, to being okay working together, to being… friends, I guess.”

“Friends…” Grace dragged out. “I’ve never seen you and Nick flirt with each other,” she teased with a knowing grin.

“Oh, shut up,” Henry huffed. “Yes, that’s the weird part. One day they’re barely friends and the next they’re constantly flirting and it’s kind of gross. The worst part is I don’t even think they realize they’re doing it.”

Grace pondered that as they crossed the slushy street that was barren of any cars. “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe they do know, they just… don’t know what to do with it.”

“How do you mean?” Henry couldn’t understand why girls had to be so complicated.

“Well for one, they’re supposed to be, like, mortal enemies or something, right? The evil queen and the savior aren’t supposed to be friends.”

“It took me a long time to see, but things aren’t quite as black and white as that,” Henry replied. “I think they’re a lot more similar than anyone realizes.” He wouldn’t go into the personal details that even he probably wasn’t supposed to know. He didn’t think his moms would appreciate him sharing their respective childhood traumas that he only knows from joint therapy sessions and overheard conversations. “Besides, they have me. I’m like the glue that forces everyone together.”

“That’s true,” Grace allowed. “If they actually got together, though, how would you feel?”

Henry kicked at a drift of snow. “Scared,” he admitted. “I finally got both of my moms, and they kind of like each other, and everyone is getting along. What if something happens? What if they got together, then break up or something. I don’t want to go back to the way it used to be.”

“What took you two so long?” Nick shouted from the top of the hill.

Grace paused at the bottom and took hold of Henry’s hand. “But what if they got together, and it’s even better?”

Henry was so focused on Grace’s hand in his that he almost forgot she asked a question. “Why are you so invested in this?” he asked as they started the trek up the hill, hand-in-hand (which made it a little difficult, but he wasn’t about to let go).

“We have a pool going. I bet 10 dollars they’ll be together by Valentine’s Day.”

“Seriously?”

“What? Nick thinks they’re already, um, ‘secretly together’… but I think that’s his own twisted fantasy.”

“Gross. You guys really need to stop talking about my moms. They’re my moms.”

Grace laughed. “Henry, the whole town is talking about it!”

….

“So are we going to talk about the elephant in the room, or are we still ignoring it?”

“What elephant?” Mary Margaret asked as she sipped her herbal tea.

Ruby huffed dramatically from the other end of the couch. “Come on, Snow. Everyone is talking about it!”

Setting her mug down on the coffee table carefully, Mary Margaret folded her hands together in her lap. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Oh, please. Everyone- “

“Everyone just needs to mind their own business!”

That shut Ruby up real fast. Mary Margaret sighed and picked up her mug again. “Seriously, Ruby. It’s none of anyone’s business. Personally, I still don’t know what to think or how I feel about it. What I do know is that my daughter, who has not been happy for quite some time, is starting to smile again. My grandson is doing better than ever. And Regina… well, she’s opening up to Emma in a way I’ve never seen before. So I’m choosing to take that all as a win and not overanalyze everything.”

Ruby watched her friend closely for any tells that she was lying. There were none that she detected. “Okay,” she said softly. “Emma’s my friend, too, you know. I want to see her happy. It’s just…”

“Just?”

“A little weird,” Ruby admitted.

“Mm,” Mary Margaret agreed. “My daughter has a crush on my former stepmother, and I’m pretty damn sure it’s reciprocated. Weird is an understatement.”

“But…” Ruby pushed.

“But it’s not hurting anyone. Quite the opposite, it seems. So maybe we should all just…” She looked pointedly at her best friend. “Mind our own business,” she finished.

Ruby held up her hands in defense. “Okay, okay. Fine. But I’m not backing out of the pool. That thing is up to like $100 now.”

“What pool?!

Chapter Text

It had been a long day, even though Emma was technically home early. As the snow had melted enough to send everyone back to work and school, the community got back to normal and brought with it its usual challenges. Car accidents, rowdy teenagers, neighbor disputes. She shouldn’t really complain at the lack of serious crime, but the sheer amount of dumb shit that happened in the small town really got to her some days.

Emma kicked her shoes off at the front door and yelled for her son, only to find him sitting in the living room on the floor writing something in a notebook on the coffee table. “Are you actually doing your homework on a Friday?”

“I don’t have a lot,” Henry answered. “But if I do it now, I can have fun all weekend.”

“Remind me to thank your mom for raising you with some sense. Did you have plans for this weekend?”

Henry shrugged. “Not really. Nick invited me to his house, but I don’t know that I feel like it.”

Alarm bells rang in Emma’s mind, but she didn’t push the subject. Henry had a habit of opening up on his own eventually.  “Alright. I’m going to get dinner started.”

Henry looked up in surprise. One of Storybrook’s best-kept secrets was that Emma actually could cook thanks to the memories his mom had given her, she just didn’t like to cook. His grandparents bought her a new set of pots and pans for Christmas, so she had been making more of an effort. She didn’t make super fancy meals like Regina often did, but he didn’t mind at all. “What are you making?

Emma smiled and ruffled his hair. “One of your favorites. Do you want to help?”

Oh, how Emma missed this. While she knew leaving Storybrooke and going back to New York was never really an option, she often yearned for the days when it was just her and Henry. They had often made dinner together, with Emma even trusting him to make simple meals on his own if she was running late from work. It was their time to catch up, and her chance to listen to what her son was doing in school and with his friends.

“So, how was school today?” she asked as she pulled a frying pan out of the cabinet.

“Fine,” Henry answered noncommittally. He opened the fridge and started pulling out the ingredients they would need. Apparently keeping the fridge stocked like a responsible parent was one of Emma’s new year’s resolutions. “There’s a Valentine’s dance coming up in a couple of weeks. Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure,” Emma replied, wondering what she was about to get herself into.

“They’re going to ask for parent chaperones. Can you make sure mom says no?”

“Henry! That’s…” She couldn’t quite think of the word to use. Was it mean? Inconsiderate? A lot of things could apply. “I’m not going to tell Regina she can’t be involved in something if she wants to volunteer.”

“I didn’t actually mean just her, though,” Henry mumbled. “I actually meant both of you.”

Emma almost replied sharply, feeling more than a little offended. But she paused and considered it for a moment. “Are you saying having your moms at the dance would be super uncool?”

Henry sighed in relief. “Yes. Yes, I am. She doesn’t get to volunteer often because of her job so I know this is something she would do.” He paused to dig the cutting board out of a cabinet. “And I know that if she volunteers, you’ll definitely volunteer, too. Then I’m double lame because I brought the mayor and the sheriff to the dance.”

Okay, Emma could see how that could cramp a kid’s style. Besides, chaperoning a middle school dance wasn’t really high on her list of things she wanted to do, like, ever. And he wasn’t wrong. She wouldn’t let Regina suffer alone. “Fine, I’ll make sure we don’t embarrass you at such a pivotal adolescent right of passage.”

Henry rolled his eyes, but he was thoroughly relieved. “Thanks, mom.”

“So… are you taking Grace to this dance?” Emma watched the blush rise up his cheeks and grinned.

“I don’t know,” Henry answered quietly. “I haven’t asked her yet.”

“What are you waiting for?”

Henry busied himself with peeling an onion to avoid eye contact. “I don’t know how to ask her.”

“You just ask. You don’t have to make it complicated. You’re not proposing marriage. You just say, ‘Grace, would you like to go to the dance with me?’ That’s it. Simple.”

This was not that simple. “But what if she says no?”

“She won’t say no.”

“But what if she does?”

Emma swallowed a sigh. “If she does, you deal with it. But I’m telling you, she won’t. If it’s too hard to ask in person, why don’t you call her? Don’t text! But a phone call won’t hurt.”

Henry looked dubiously at the onion in his hands. A phone call would be easier, especially if she said no. “Yeah, maybe…”

Emma considered her options before pulling her phone out of her back pocket. She clicked the second person on her favorites list and waited for the call to pick up on the other end. “Hey, Regina. What are you doing tonight?”

On the other end of the line, Emma could hear the shuffle of papers as the mayor was packing up her briefcase. “I don’t know, Miss Swan, I haven’t thought about it. I was just leaving the office.”

 “Would you like to come over and join Henry and I for dinner?”

There was a brief pause where Emma worried her plan was about to backfire, but then, “Sure, I’d love to.”

Emma grinned. “Great, we’ll see you in a bit.” She ended the call and shoved the phone back in her pocket. “Now, you see? Was that so hard?”

She was right, Henry thought. It would be so easy. He would start the call by telling Grace all about how his mother just asked his other mother over for dinner to prove how easy it was to ask someone on a date over the phone. She would be thrilled to hear this latest development, and Henry wondered briefly if he should place his own bet in that pool.

“We should probably tidy up some before we finish cooking, now that mom is coming over.”

He was right. While the apartment wasn’t a huge mess by any means, Emma definitely needed to make sure there weren’t any random socks floating around on the living room floor, and a quick vacuum probably wouldn’t hurt. “Go make sure your room is picked up, I’ll clean up out here.”

By the time Regina arrived, the apartment was clean and the meat was browning in the pan. Henry let his mom in and after a quick kiss on his cheek, took her coat from her. “Mom’s in the kitchen,” he told her.

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Regina muttered. She made her way into the kitchen where she found the blonde standing over the stove. “Should I have the fire department on standby?”

“Well, hi to you too, your majesty,” Emma sassed. “Take a seat, there’s cider in the fridge.”

Regina found the bottles on the third shelf, touched again that Emma kept them for her. “Do you want one?” she asked, holding up a bottle of beer.

“Sure,” Emma answered, accepting the opened bottle. Henry came back in at that moment and pulled a knife out of the drawer.

“We’re making cowboy casserole,” he told Regina. He picked up the onion and started making thin, even slices across the top. “It was one of my favorites when we lived in New York.”

Emma smiled at him as she turned the burner down low. “It’s not the healthiest,” she admitted. “But it’s really good. I think you’ll like it.”

Regina took a seat at the table and watched her son expertly chop up the onion like he had done it a dozen times. When he was finished, he dumped the onion bits into the frying pan and switched places with Emma, taking over the cooking while the blonde began sprinkling in a variety of spices Regina was definitely surprised she owned.

It was… well, Regina didn’t know quite how to describe it. She felt a little like an outsider as she watched mother and son cook together like an obviously well-oiled machine. There was a hint of jealousy underneath, she could admit. Henry didn’t often help her in the kitchen. She honestly preferred to work alone, and he had hardly ever shown any interest in it. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t a little envious that Emma and Henry seemed to find activities they enjoyed doing together so easily.

“So anyway, that’s why I don’t really want to go to Nick’s house. He’s being a real jerk.”

“Sounds like it,” Emma easily agreed.

“Henry,” Regina admonished, though lost in her own thoughts she honestly hadn’t been paying any attention and had no clue why Nick was suddenly a jerk.

“Well, he is,” Henry muttered. He finished placing tater tots on top of the casserole and watched as Emma placed the dish in the oven. “Can I go hang out in my room until dinner?”

“Sure,” Emma said. “You might want to consider taking a shower. You smell like P.E. class.”

“You smell like P.E. class,” he chided, nudging her with his shoulder as he walked by, which earned him a swat on his behind with a kitchen towel.

“That’s what happens when I have to dig Leroy’s car out of a damn ditch all morning! Seriously,” Emma huffed as she took a seat at the table. “How is that dwarf portal coming along?”  

Regina chuckled and rested her chin on her hand. “Apparently not fast enough.”

…

What’s the update on Operation VDay?

Henry was laying on the living room floor in front of the TV, wrapped in a blanket with a couple of pillows from his bed. He glanced behind him at the couch before texting a response. He had called Grace before dinner. Not only did she agree to go to the dance with him (he hadn’t told his moms yet), but he agreed to help her win the pool and split the winnings. Grace was right. If his moms were already gross together, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if they were actually together. It wouldn’t take much effort on his part, except maybe to figure out how to get them to spend a little more time together.

Like tonight’s dinner. It was actually really nice. Emma had shared meals with them before, but always at the mansion, his grandparents’ or the diner. This was their first meal with just the three of them at Emma’s apartment, and the atmosphere felt different. More relaxed, he thought. Nobody was watching them. The food was very casual, but delicious, and even Regina surprised them all by having seconds. It all felt very homey. When he suggested a movie after dinner, both of his moms were quick to agree. But that was also when the flirting kicked up a notch. It wasn’t even flirting, so much as it was just… weird, definitely not normal friend behavior.

“Thank you for inviting me to dinner, Emma. It was surprisingly not the worst thing I’ve ever eaten.”

“Wow,” Emma said. “That’s high praise coming from the queen herself.”

“You’re welcome,” Regina smirked.

Eager to keep his promise to Grace, Henry chimed in. “We should watch a movie. Mom, will you stay?” Knowing Regina would be hard pressed to turn down a direct request from her son, he gave her a wide, hopeful smile.

Emma looked slightly suspicious, but Regina caved immediately.

After cleaning up dinner, they made their way to the living room. Henry pulled up Netflix, while Emma disappeared into her bedroom.  A moment later, she came out holding a stack of clothes out to Regina. She gave the mayor a nod towards her work attire. “If you want to get more comfortable, I promise they’re clean.”

Regina looked down at her dress and heels, and Henry expected her to magic herself into something more comfortable of her own. It would have been the most logical thing to do. Of course, that’s not what happened because why would it, at this point? Regina actually accepted the clothes and disappeared into the bathroom, coming out moments later wearing a pair of Emma’s sweatpants and a burgundy Harvard hoodie that Emma no doubt stole from someone years ago.

Oh my God, mom has it way worse than I thought, Henry realized.

Finally choosing a movie, Henry set himself up on the floor with a couple pillows and a blanket, then scurried to the kitchen. He returned with two bowls of popcorn – one for himself, and the other strategically for his moms to share. Oh, he was going all-in the matchmaking business for Grace… and the money, which last he heard had doubled in the last few days.

As was his plan, in order to share the popcorn, his moms sat close to each other in the middle of the couch. At some point without him even noticing, a blanket had appeared and been draped over both of their laps.

“Another cider?” Emma asked.

“Sure,” Regina smiled.

Emma took the empty bowl of popcorn to the kitchen, and with no reason to continue sitting so close to each other, Regina scooted to the end of the sofa.

Emma returned with two cold bottles. If she was disappointed with the new seating arrangement, her face didn’t show it. She sat at the other end of the sofa and kicked her feet up onto the coffee table instead.

Twenty minutes later, Regina was stretched out on the couch, sound asleep with her (ice cold, mind you) feet in Emma’s lap.

Henry finally texted Grace back. I’m not sure we’re going to notice a difference when they are actually together.

The movie they were watching was over, so he gathered up his pillows and blanket and took them back to his bedroom before returning to say goodnight to his moms. He gave Emma a quick peck on the cheek but paused before disturbing Regina.

“Should we wake her up?” Henry whispered.

Emma gazed at the dark circles under the mayor’s eyes and shook her head. “Let her sleep, I’m sure she’ll just poof herself home if she wakes up.”

She waited until Henry had gone to his room before slowly extricating herself from under the mayor’s feet. Carefully, she tucked the blanket back around her before turning the TV off. She left the electric fireplace on for some light and slowly crept to her own bedroom.

Regina did, in fact, wake up a short while later and poof herself home to sleep in her own bed. If she didn’t change clothes, it was only because she was too tired to bother. And for the first time in months, she slept through the night