"I thought you didn't do rum," Emma said, grinning at the woman sitting across from her. Across from her was Regina's comfortable living room, infront of a blazing fire.
"It has more to do with the company. I should have said, I don't do rum with pirates…„" Regina said then added as an afterthought: "or your mother." She smiled at the blonde who was leaning against one of the plush armchairs, still sweaty and dirty from their latest adventure. But at least, Henry was back where he belonged, back in Storybrooke, up in his room at the mansion, because they had all agreed that Henry would recover faster from the slight concussion he received in the less crowded quarters of Regina's home. Emma also thought she deserved this for saving all of their lives.
"But with me?" Emma teased. "The savior, the other mother of your son? What's up with that?"
Regina leaned back in the other armchair, the one that stood across from the one Emma used as a backrest. She took a swallow of the good stuff she had had in her bar.
"You did good, savior," she admitted. "For once, you did exactly as I said and when I said it - and it got us all out."
"You got us all out," Emma corrected.
"Let's be gracious and say, we both did. We make quite a team," Regina mused. "Don't tell anyone I said that."
Emma laughed.
"Don't tell anyone I agree," the blonde gave back.