A/N: So I just couldn't tear myself away from the One Fine Mess universe, and I'm not ready to write the sequel yet. So here will be a collection of one-shots set in that universe.

EACH CHAPTER IS AN INDIVIDUAL STORY, and won't necessarily be in chronological order.

They may be stories from in between the events that took place in OFM, or a new perspective on ones you've already seen. But you'll probably need to have read OFM for them to make sense either way.

These are non essential to the original story, nor will they be to the sequel. More like bonus features! I'm open to ideas for short stories if there's a particular event or POV you'd like to see, let me know and I'll see what I come up with!

And now, since everyone has been asking since basically the first chapters of One Fine Mess, here is a little something from Emma's point of view. This story would fall in between chapters 5 and 6. Hope you like!

One Inconvenient Revelation

~26 Weeks~

Emma grinned, almost laughing, as she sat back on the couch with her shirt flipped up, watching the way her stomach rolled back and forth with her baby's acrobatics. It was strange watching her own her body ripple and roil that way. An "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" sort of alien, and she could certainly see why some people found pregnancy off-putting. Emma wasn't sure she would be too keen on the sight herself, were it not her own belly filled with her own child she was so intently observing.

There was really a whole person in there. Her daughter, whom Emma already loved so completely before ever meeting her, and in such an indescribable way that it easily reduced her to tears if she thought about it too long. An entire life they could still only imagine, yet knowing for certain that it would be cherished for all time. It was a fascinating thing to consider.

She poked and prodded, trying to distinguish between limbs and whether that was the baby's head or teeny, tiny butt. Her little girl shifted again, creating another torrent of waves beneath her mother's skin until she settled off to the side, leaving a lopsided mound in her wake. This time Emma did laugh at the sight, thinking of the glamorously round and firm artistic renderings of the expectant woman's anatomy portrayed in all the pregnancy books Regina bought for them.

She never did this when she was pregnant with Henry, having adamantly tried to ignore the way she felt him growing and living inside her. She tried so desperately not to feel attached, believing they would never be together, even as she felt that kind of unconditional love she had never known existed.

She remembered the way she tried to pass off Henry's first flutters of movement as gas, not ready to think of her pregnancy as a real child who would live and breathe without her. This time, however, she'd recognized the soft fluttering instantly, and the feeling that consumed her was nothing short of elation. She couldn't wait to tell Regina that night when they got home, to share this feeling of absolute joy for the life they had created together.

She wondered if Regina had any idea the gift she had bestowed upon her with this child. Their daughter wasn't a "do-over" by any means. But the chance to experience this, carrying a child, as something to be celebrated instead of feared was a feeling Emma wasn't sure she could properly convey with mere words of gratitude. She relished it all – even the bizarre, body-snatcher moments.

She had been afraid when she first took that test. After a month of strange bouts of vomiting and thinking there was absolutely no way she could be pregnant, even though all the symptoms were there, she did it just to be certain. Despite her confidence that it was impossible, two lines appeared instead of one, again and again, until it was undeniable.

Emma began to wonder if she'd done something stupid and forgotten, if maybe a night of heavy drinking lead to a bad decision she couldn't recall, but she was almost certain that wasn't the case. There was only Regina, and Emma remembered that quite well. Almost alarmingly so, in the way she found she absolutely did not want to forget. But it had been good – incredible, really. She settled for the idea that it had been simply too good to forget. It wasn't anything beyond that, she was sure.

Even more so than the father's identity, she had feared Regina's reaction. She wasn't sure why. Maybe because the woman graciously welcomed Emma into her home, and they really had a good thing going with their odd family unit, and she couldn't exactly blame Regina if she didn't take too kindly to someone else's kid thrown into the mix. It was all perfectly tidy and logical by way of an explanation. Yet, in the back of her mind, Emma knew it was a farce. The reality was that she was afraid of letting Regina down. It felt like a betrayal, in a strange way, and Emma wasn't sure why it should.

Yes, she had been incredulous when Rumpelstiltskin told them the baby was Regina's. Of all the absurd things Emma had seen and experienced since coming to this magical town, nothing had yet to make her believe a person could impregnate another without the proper "equipment." She was a product of her upbringing, in a land without magic, and she wasn't sure she would ever get used to all the new possibilities she was continuously learning existed here.

But she was also immeasurably relieved. The thought that the baby would or ever could be Regina's never even crossed her mind until that very moment of reveal. Yet, once her brain stopped spinning and the actuality of it settled in Emma's head, it felt like the answer to a prayer she didn't realize she might have been sending out all along.

Brought back to the present by another exuberant somersault, Emma ran her palms ever so lovingly over her belly.

"You certainly are a restless one," she cooed quietly. "I know your mom would say you get it from me, but I think you're all hers."

And then she was smiling at the thought of a tiny, defiant Regina. Of a little girl with all the strength and resilience that her other mother possessed. She wished Regina were here so she could make some witty remark about how utterly demanding their child was. The woman would predictably click her tongue and roll her eyes at such foolishness, but Emma always relished in seeing the hint of a smirk that never quite fully concealed itself anymore.

It was a little strange, the pang in her heart over Regina's absence. The woman would be home in a matter of hours after all, and it's not like they hadn't eaten breakfast together before Regina left for work and Emma took Henry to school.

The ache of missing Regina was strange, but perhaps stranger still was the comfort Emma found in having a piece of Regina here with her; intrinsically connected by this flourishing seedling the woman had planted inside her belly. Perhaps, her subconscious tentatively offered to her conscious mind, there was more than just a sense of mere safety in raising this baby with Regina.

Carrying Regina's child felt like nothing short of a privilege. While Emma was certain she wouldn't love her baby any less regardless of who the other parent was, she couldn't imagine feeling that way had the child been Hook's – nor that of any other man, or woman, in town for that matter.

Regina's baby, Emma thought to herself, caressing the bump with a new sort of wistful fondness as their child continued to stretch and squirm. She caught herself grinning at the notion, and all at once an icy bolt of dread shot through her chest, freezing her hands in place and dropping the smile right off her lips.

The idea that she felt something more than friendship for Regina had never crossed her mind until now. Of course there was a physical attraction, their baby wouldn't exist if that weren't the case, yet Emma had somehow managed to convince herself that was perfectly normal when suddenly it was very glaringly apparent to her that it was anything but. And just like that, things became very, very complicated.

Because Regina most certainly didn't want anything more than what they had. Emma wasn't really upset about Hook that fateful night – more like relieved. But she was sure Regina had still been grieving over Robin Hood and was merely in need of a distraction.

This is why Emma hated being left idle with her own thoughts. She absolutely could not be having these feelings.

The front door slammed and Emma jumped, abruptly jarred from her thoughts. It was too early for Henry to be coming home from school, so it had to be Regina. The woman appeared in the doorway, looking tired and grumpy yet somehow still so breathtakingly beautiful, and Emma felt that same awful pang in her gut.

"You're home early," she said simply, trying to act normal, as if she hadn't just had the most jaw dropping awakening since finding out she was pregnant with this woman's child.

"Slow day," Regina huffed, seating herself regally upon the sofa next to Emma. "It seems that in the absence of witches and wraiths to torment the town, things actually run quite smoothly."

"Well, your daughter's been quite the troublemaker today," Emma quipped, not wanting to disrupt their usual flow and taking the chance she desired to needle the woman. "Kicking up a fuss and refusing to let me nap."

"So now she's my daughter when she's causing trouble?" Regina shot back, and there was that hint of a smile Emma sought, though now she found it made her heart race.

"Look," Emma instructed, pointing to her belly, and it wasn't long before the baby began writhing again, making Regina chuckle.

"Can't sit still," the woman shook her head, placing a hand on Emma's bare skin as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Just like her mother."

Emma grinned. She knew Regina would say that.

They sat in contented quiet, enjoying their daughter's tenacious movements and reveling in her tiny life. They made this child, and regardless of their relationship, the chance to share in such a sense of wonder was priceless.

Emma looked up into the face of the woman beside her, and perhaps that was a mistake, because when Regina looked back into her eyes there was so much love and awe that was surely just a residual from thinking of their little girl. For a moment though, she saw it. Emma felt a pressure against her ribs that most certainly wasn't the baby, and it pushed the air right out of her lungs.

She felt a tug of longing to press a soft kiss to Regina's lips, but she didn't dare. It wouldn't be the same as the fervent, heated kisses that passed between them in the night. A kiss like this would too heavy, born of emotions Emma wasn't even sure she was ready to feel. Her eyes snapped up, realizing she was staring at Regina's mouth and hoping like hell that the woman hadn't noticed.

"You're feeling tired?" Regina asked quietly after a drawn out moment, and Emma could only nod. "Let me go fix you some tea and something to eat. Perhaps it will help calm her down."

Regina absconded to the kitchen, leaving Emma alone with all the revelations and feelings that absolutely refused to be silenced now that they'd finally found a voice. She glanced down at her belly again, placing her hands on either side of the one confidant she trusted implicitly not to spill her secrets, and sighed.

"Shit, Ducky," she said quietly into the empty room. "I think I might be in love with your mom."