Title: Late-Night Lasagna
Author: snarkysweetness
Rating: PG
Characters: Emma, Snow, & August; Emma/August & Snow/Charming
Summary: Unable to sleep, Emma and Snow run-into each other in the kitchen and share a snack while discussing Emma's fears.
Warnings: Fluff.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Notes: I feel like this should just be called 'Snow and Emma are adorable assholes', which would probably be better than the horrible title. Don't let it scare you off, though, this is some good old-fashioned Charming Family Fluff.

Her fingers slid over the worn quilt covering her body as she toyed with the frayed ends of the loose threads. She was trying hard not to toss and turn, not wanting to wake her companion, but she felt restless. It was strange, for someone who'd spent her entire life bouncing around from home to home, sleeping in cars, bad motel rooms, and crappy couches she had become so comfortable with her little life here in Storybrooke that she was now unable to sleep unless it was in her own bed.

Emma glanced over to find August resting comfortably at her side. His arm was wrapped protectively around her middle and she couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. August was the reason why she felt so safe and content with her new life. He was a great father, he was completely devoted to her, and he was so determined to make up for his past mistakes she knew he'd never leave her again.

For the first time in her life she was at home and it was his fault. She leaned over and pressed a small kiss to his cheek. He mumbled in his sleep and rolled onto his stomach before snoring quietly. She shook her head and decided that he wasn't going to be woken by her moving about. She slipped out of bed and tiptoed out of the bedroom.

She looked around as she walked through the hallway. Her family hadn't been reunited for long, but the walls of her parent's house were already lined with framed family photographs; Henry with his wooden sword, her parents being hopelessly in love, August gazing at her with that stupid look on his face, the five of them together, and one of her holding Henry, looking happier than she'd ever been in her life.

Emma stopped to gently trace her fingers over the cool glass. August was wonderful, but Henry was the most important thing in her life. She loved him more than she loved herself and August felt the same way; that's how she'd known choosing to forgive him had been the right choice. Henry was happier than she'd ever seen him and that was worth saying to hell with her pride.

She approached the foot of the stairs and found light spilling out from the kitchen. Since she'd most likely end up in there anyway, Emma approached it curiously, wondering who else would be awake at this hour.

"Emma, sweetheart, did I wake you?" Her mother stood at the counter, stirring a mug of what her nose told her was hot chocolate.

"No, I couldn't sleep," she admitted as she took a set at the counter. Snow began making a second cup and handed Emma her own. Emma smiled, too touched by the gesture to protest. She took a small sip and sighed happily; it tasted like home.

"Are you okay, mom? It's after midnight." Emma knew her parents suffered from the same nightmares that Henry did. They never really talked about them, but if her mom wanted to, Emma would listen, just like she did for Henry when he crawled into their bed in the middle of the night so he wouldn't be alone.

"I'm fine, I just wanted something to drink and well, this happened."

Emma gave her a skeptical look but she kept her mouth shut. She knew better than to argue with her mother. She went for her cocoa and realized she'd already drank it all without realizing it. Her stomach fluttered and she glanced down with a shake of her head.

"More?" She muttered before wrapping an arm around her middle with a sigh.

"What is it?"

"I think the baby is already a chocolate addict," Emma replied. The baby was why they were here, August had insisted on having the house baby proofed before her arrival and had suggested that since they were going to repaint the nursery they should repaint the whole house. Since he refused to let Emma or Henry sleep in the house until the fumes had been aired out she'd decided on staying with her parents. She loved Geppetto but he cried every time she came into the room about how blessed he was and how wonderful she was for putting up with his son. Emma knew there was only so much of that she could handle before she went off on him and she wanted to avoid it if possible.

"I used to the last of the cocoa, but I have the keys to the diner, I could-"

"Mom, its fine." She loved her parents, but sometimes they went a bit overboard with the trying to make up for the time they'd lost together. "How about a glass of milk?"

"Coming right up."

Emma swung her feet off the stool and chewed her lower lip as her mom pulled a gallon out of the fridge.

"Since you're in there," Emma began, "milk goes really good with that leftover lasagna from dinner."

Snow gave her a knowing smile as she pulled out the dish and served two pieces which she put on one plate in the microwave.

"Still craving everything?"

Emma nodded. Snow wasn't exaggerating. Emma ate literally everything. She was the size of a house. It was a good thing the baby was almost here; Emma was sure the doorways would be too small for her soon. She missed being pregnant with Henry when all she craved was cinnamon; cinnamon toast, cinnamon tea, hot chocolate with cinnamon, whatever as long as cinnamon was involved. Plus, she'd been in jail so it wasn't like she was stuffing her face all night and day like she was now; though, being four times her usual size didn't seem to turn August off from her. He liked everything as long as it was her, which was good to know; he was completely hers. Maybe she'd even marry him someday.

She almost chuckled out loud; marriage was never happening, no matter how much devotion he showed her. Emma had come a long way on the trusting people and settling roots front but she'd never give up that much control.

Snow set the plate between them and handed Emma fork. Emma dug in, not caring that the melted cheese burned her tongue; that was what the milk was for. Her mom watched her for a moment and Emma finished off her milk before pouring another glass.

"What?"

"Nothing, I was just thinking about how our family has strange eating habits is all."

"What, the milk and lasagna thing?"

"And the cinnamon thing."

Emma smirked.

"Guess we really are related, then," Emma teased as the baby gave her a sharp, demanding kick.

"Oww. She's already spoiled. August's going to make it worse," she said grumpily.

"You can't blame him for it. He's so happy, reminds me of your father. You weren't even born yet and he had to have every toy possible ready for you. Poor Geppetto and Pinocchio spent months working themselves to the bone building things for you."

They shared a smile as Emma toyed with her food.

"I guess August just had worshipping me programmed into him from a young age."

"Maybe. I mean, I guess if we'd gotten to be a family like were supposed to the two of you would have grown up together and-well, things worked out in the end."

"No, tell me." Emma's worst trait was her curiosity. It was said to have killed the cat and she suspected it'd do her in someday.

"Well, I just would like to think we'd still have Henry is all. And you'd have brothers and-like I said, it all worked out in the end. Thinking about the 'what ifs' doesn't do us any good."

Snow began cleaning up the clutter and Emma watched her mother sadly.

"I'm sorry, mom. You and dad wanted this big family and so does August and here I am, not even sure I can handle Henry, let alone another kid. It should be you having more children, not me."

"Emma," her mother said quietly, taking her hand, "don't be silly. Your father and I are happy to just have you and Henry and the new baby. And you're great with Henry."

"But Regina did all the hard work; all I have to do is keep him alive. With this new kid, I'll have to do everything and if I screw up then I'll screw her up and I don't know if I'm ready for that."

"Henry's an amazing kid and I don't think any of that has to do with Regina. You're a great mom and hey, it's not just you. You have August and he's amazing with Henry and he's good to you. He's going to be a great father."

"I know he will be but he's not the one I'm worried about. She's going to need two good parents not one decent one and one that doesn't know what she's doing," Emma argued. Her mother just shook her head with a grin. "What's so funny?"

"You thinking you're the first pregnant woman to have doubts. Do you think your father and I knew what we were doing? We had just finished a war with Regina and she was still a threat and neither of us knew how to be parents. No one ever does. It's supposed to be scary, baby. But you're not alone. You have me, your father, August, Geppetto, even Granny. She's going to be fine, trust me. And for what it's worth, I think you're going to do a great job."

"You really think so?"

Her mother rounded the counter to pull her into her arms. Emma hugged her tightly. It was nice to be able to talk to her mom about stuff like this. She missed having Mary Margaret around, but having her mother was worth the loss.

"Of course I do."

"Thanks, mom.

She kissed the top of Emma's head and pulled away.

"Come on, I don't think either of us is sleeping and The Princess Bride is still in the dvd player."

Emma smiled and wiped at her eyes. Another downfall of pregnancy; she cried all the time, sometimes over nothing. She followed her mom into the living room and curled up at her side as they watched the movie in silence until Emma nodded off peacefully against her mother's shoulder.