Title: Under the Stars
Summary: The second Emma looked at Henry, she knew it was all over. While she had been turning everything over in her head, he had enacted the third stage of Puppy Dog Eyes. When their gazes met, he even added a tiny, pathetic, "Please, Mom? Please?" for good measure. "Ugh, fine," Emma groaned, rolling her eyes so hard that if it were possible, she would have sprained her optic nerve. "I guess we can camp out tonight."
Spoilers: None, really, but let's just say everything up through 2x10, "The Cricket Game."
Rating/Warning: T, for Emma's mouth. Family fluff.
Disclaimer: Once Upon a Time and its characters were created by Eddie Kitsis and Adam Horowitz and are owned by ABC. I borrowed some of their things but I'll return them when I'm done.
Author's Note: So, I am apparently writing myself a little series of stories about things the Charmings never got to do together because of the curse, so they're doing them now. I figured you guys don't mind. ;) Shoutout to SamFanFirst, whose review on the relevant chapter of "Story Hour" gave me the inkling for this story. As always, feedback is love. Enjoy!
Emma Swan did not cook.
Well, not really. Boiling pasta and heating up sauce from a jar was easy enough, she supposed. Scrambling eggs and frying up some bacon was pretty easy, too. She could throw together tacos or a salad or even homemade pizza … as long as she had a ready-made crust available. She could even handle casserole recipes from the label of a can of soup provided the recipe didn't have too many steps.
Anything more complicated left her mind reeling, however, and forget trying to make things like sauces from scratch. Her mother and father ended up making dinner most nights for that very reason.
Though Emma didn't have Snow White's or Prince Charming's flair for the culinary arts, she had, over the years, damn near perfected the art of the grilled cheese sandwich. Henry had once confided that he preferred her sandwiches to both Snow's and Granny's, a fact that made Emma's heart soar. They had both agreed not to tell either woman that Emma could out-grilled-cheese them.
It was over plates of Emma's not-so-famous grilled cheese sandwiches with a side of sour cream and onion chips and dill pickle spears – because why the hell not? – that Henry decided to throw both caution to the wind and his mother for a loop. He took a deep breath before asking, "Mom?"
She should have known from the tentative tone of the kid's voice that he was about to ask her something she wouldn't like. She would have known, too, if she'd had more experience with the whole being a parent thing. Unfortunately, she hadn't quite yet learned how to discern the tone kids tended to adopt when they were about to drop a bomb on their parents. So it was with a mouthful of grilled cheese and no trepidation whatsoever that Emma answered, "Hmm?"
"I was just thinking … it's a really nice day outside, and the weather lady said this morning that it's supposed to stay warm all night."
Emma stopped chewing, quirking an eyebrow at her son. He typically didn't give her weather reports for shits and grins. No, he was up to something, though she didn't even want to hazard a guess just what that something could be. "Okay ..." she said once she'd swallowed her bite of sandwich.
When he started fidgeting uncomfortably in the chair, Emma knew that she was in trouble. Big trouble. "Well, you said when the weather got warm out, we could maybe go camping."
She almost dropped her sandwich. When the hell had she agreed to go camping? She freaking hated camping. Never in her right mind would she have agreed to … oh, wait. The day she'd had the horrible head cold. Damn it.
She vaguely recalled a discussion regarding Regina sometimes allowing Henry to camp out in the back yard – and how much Emma hated camping in general. "I believe my exact words were I would see about going camping. I also believe it was simply back yard camping."
"You did say you'd see but then you said you'd look into it when the nights got warmer," Henry reminded her. "The nights are warmer now. Tonight's going to be warmer than it has in a while, at least."
Right, now it was coming back to her. Her head had been pounding due to a sinus headache the size of Toledo and Henry had started to give her his patent-pending sad puppy dog look. She'd been in the kind of mood to agree to anything, just so she wouldn't have to expend any more energy on the decision.
And now it was coming back to bite her in the ass. Fantastic.
She glanced over at her son, who was looking at her with the same sad little puppy dog eyes he had given her the day she was sick. "Oh, kid, those things should be registered as lethal weapons," she groaned, setting her sandwich down on her plate.
"What things?" Henry asked innocently.
Just then, the apartment door clicked open and in walked Snow White and Prince Charming themselves. Soft giggles passed between the couple, making Emma almost involuntarily roll her eyes. Her parents had gone to Granny's for a lunch date – a little married people time, she was sure – and that was all the information Emma needed to guess what their conversation involved.
The giggling came to an abrupt halt when they saw Emma and Henry sitting at the table, which sent Emma's eye-roll reflex into overdrive. She now knew far more than she ever wanted to know about the nature of her parents' discussion. She had just barely stopped herself from groaning aloud when Henry exclaimed, "Guess what! We're going camping tonight!"
"Whoa, wait a sec!" Emma cried. "I never said yes!"
David made a concerted effort to hold back a chuckle while Snow's eyebrows shot to the ceiling at her daughter's outburst. "Oh, please, Mom?" Henry begged.
Emma attempted to stare him down but only lasted a beat. The pout had come into play, the pout that would, in a few short seconds, morph into the puppy dog eyes in earnest.
There were varying degrees of the puppy dog eyes, Emma had discovered. The first step was the one he'd utilized before her parents returned: a small pout and just enough excitement in his eyes that she knew he really wanted whatever he happened to be asking of her. When that didn't work, he ramped it up to the next level, the one he was using now. His lower lip jutted out a tiny bit further and he allowed a touch more enthusiasm to light his features.
And if that didn't work, he kicked it up one final notch. This last degree was the one Emma hated because she had yet to be able to say no to it. It involved the hugest pout Henry could give without looking like he was exaggerating and so much excitement and anticipation in his eyes that everyone in a five-mile radius knew any denial of his request would devastate him.
She usually tried to shut his more insane requests down before he had the opportunity to give her the Third Degree Puppy Dog Eyes. Today, though, it had progressed too fast for her to stand a chance. Goddamn it.
"Camping sounds like fun," Snow said as she closed the door behind herself and David, who still looked like he was trying to hold back laughter.
"We're not going camping," Emma insisted.
"Please, Mom?" Henry asked. Begged, actually, complete with hands clasped underneath his chin as if he were praying.
"Yeah, please, Mom?" David teased, finally allowing a chuckle at both his grandson's pleading and his daughter's increasingly flustered refusals.
"Camping is totally awesome!" Henry added with as much impassioned enthusiasm as the eleven-year-old could muster. "Please?"
Despite her son's drawing out of his final plea, Emma still shook her head. "Camping is not totally awesome. You know what's totally awesome? Running water, indoor plumbing, soft mattresses, and fluffy pillows. I did the whole camping thing back in the Enchanted Forest, remember? It wasn't pretty."
"That wasn't camping, Emma," Snow told her gently. "That was survival. Camping is much different. We'll have ready-made shelter, for one thing. There won't be ogres so we won't have to worry about setting up somewhere hidden, for another. We'll have sleeping bags and pillows so we won't be as uncomfortable during the night. We'll bring food–"
"Yeah, and we can make a campfire and roast marshmallows on sticks and make s'mores!" Henry excitedly interrupted. "You like s'mores, right?"
Emma did like s'mores but that was kind of beside the point. "And we could all hold hands and sing 'Kumbaya' but none of that will make camping fun," she grumbled. "There's still watching out for poison ivy and sleeping on the ground and, let's not forget, no indoor plumbing. The only good thing about camping is the food."
Well, crap. Now Snow looked disappointed, too. Emma heaved a sigh as she dropped her gaze to her plate to avoid seeing the dejected expressions on her family's faces.
All four of them were silent for a moment. Then, it was Prince Charming to the rescue. "How about we split the difference? We could take a cooler out to the woods this afternoon and do the whole hiking and cookout and sitting around a campfire thing but then we'll come back here for the night and set up tents outside."
"That's even better than just back yard camping!" Henry cried, an excited grin on his lips.
David smiled at his grandson before catching his daughter's eye. "We'd only be a couple flights of stairs away from indoor plumbing. I know you don't want to leave Henry outside by himself, and I don't blame you. This way, if you're uncomfortable and can't sleep, you can go back upstairs and leave Henry with us."
That … was actually quite a nice compromise, but still. Emma hated camping. Hated it with a passion. Her time in the Enchanted Forest hadn't helped matters but she'd hated camping most of her life. There was a reason, of course, but she would rather not think about that right now, thank you very much.
She glanced from her father to her mother, who gave her a little reassuring nod. It's okay, the gesture seemed to be saying to her. You can trust us to make this fun.
The second she looked at Henry, she knew it was all over. While she had been lost in thought and turning everything over in her head, he had enacted the third stage of Puppy Dog Eyes. As their gazes met, he even added a tiny, pathetic, "Please, Mom? Please?" for good measure.
Well, shit.
"Ugh, fine," Emma groaned, rolling her eyes so hard that if it were possible, she would have sprained her optic nerve. "I guess we can camp out tonight."
"Yes!" Henry cried, jumping up from his seat at the table. He ran to Emma and threw his arms around her in gratitude. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
"Whoa, calm down, kid." She did her best to sound annoyed but she couldn't help smiling a little as she returned his tight embrace. It was amazing to her how quickly she'd come to adore his hugs. "It's just for tonight. And when the mosquitoes come out to play, just remember that you asked for this."
He giggled into her ear, which just about melted her heart into a puddle of goo. When he let her go, a wide grin lit his face. "This is going to be so much fun."
Emma had her doubts about that – severe doubts, actually – but she returned his smile anyway. The kid wanted to go camping; she was not about to bring his excitement level down with her own misgivings.
Her appetite, however, was a different story. She still had half a sandwich and a few straggling chips left on her plate but she didn't have the stomach for them anymore. Sighing softly, she wrapped her hand around the edge of her plate and stood. "Finish up," she said to Henry. "We have a lot to do to get ready."
He nodded at her, a smile of thanks still on his lips, and continued to eat his lunch.
Her parents' faces sported similar grateful smiles when she walked towards them. "Thanks for agreeing to this, Emma," David said, his voice soft, as he took the plate from her hand.
"I should be thanking you for coming up with the compromise," Emma replied. "That was a good idea."
"You're welcome," he said to her before heading to the sink with her plate.
Suddenly feeling antsy, Emma turned on her heel to head upstairs. Packing some clothes for both herself and Henry would at least give her something to do so she didn't have to dwell on …
Just before she reached the top of the metal staircase, she felt a hand grasp her own. She knew who it was just by the soft grip. She turned, intent on asking her mother what she wanted, but Snow spoke up before she could even get out one word. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah," Emma answered, forcing a smile. "It's just … you were with me in the Forest. I hated it, the whole sleeping outdoors thing."
Snow's eyes narrowed for a brief moment, making Emma's heart skip in her chest. Emma knew that look; it was the look Snow used when she was trying to discern whether or not she was hearing the whole truth. Some higher power must have been looking down on Emma, because before she had time to work herself up into even the slightest bit of panic, Snow nodded and let go of her hand. "This time will be different, Emma, I promise."
"I'm sure it will be," Emma nodded. "I'm just going to get some clothes packed and then I'll be down to help you make sandwiches or pack hot dogs or whatever, okay?"
"Okay."
Emma gave her a smile and turned around. If she had looked over her shoulder, she would have seen her mother staring after her with a pensive frown on her face. She would have known that Snow had guessed her dislike of camping did not stem solely from their time in the Enchanted Forest. And she would have seen the strength in Snow's posture and the resolve in her eyes. No doubt about it, Snow White was going to get to the bottom of whatever her daughter was hiding.
But Emma didn't look over her shoulder. She simply continued up the stairs, oblivious to her mother's determination. She had a camping trip to prepare for now.