Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author's note: So, here's the deal. I kind of suck at writing comedy, and my goal in writing Swan/Queen fic was to work on that. My strength is actually angst/dark fiction, but I firmly believe there needs to be balance in every story, so I'm hoping this will be the least bit funny, while also seeming semi-realistic...

This story will {obviously} follow a different timeline than the show.

Let me know if you hate it.


"It's going to be a girl," Regina insists, placing her hand over Emma's flat stomach.

"How do you know?" Emma asks, narrowing an eye at Regina. "It's still too early to tell."

They are standing in the restroom at the diner, where Emma has just thrown up her breakfast. She missed the toilet by mere seconds, and now Regina's new shoes are covered in colorful fruit loops and French fries.

Regina warned Emma about the dangers of mixing sugar with grease, but in the end Emma won the argument because of five simple words: "I am carrying your baby."

Whenever Emma reminds her of this, Regina softens and agrees to anything.

Emma wants to eat ice cream in bed? No problem. She is carrying Regina's baby, after all – and if the kid takes after Regina, she's unlikely to ever get her way again. She might as well take advantage of her current circumstances.

While Emma rinses her mouth, Regina wipes the rainbow of vomit from her shoes.

"I used magic to find out the gender," Regina quietly admits.

Emma gawks at Regina's reflection in the bathroom mirror. "Oh my god. Why would you do that?" she demands. "What if this causes some weird birth defect? Our kid could come out looking like the girl from Harry Potter who brewed the wrong polyjuice potion and turned into a cat!"

"You need to stop using Harry Potter as your one-stop reference guide for magic," Regina snaps, defending her actions. "It doesn't work that way, and if our child ends up having whiskers, I'd place the blame on your side of the family. Snow's great aunt had a full beard by the time she was forty. It's something you might want to keep in mind as you start getting older."

"Regina," Emma sighs. "Are you worried about the pregnancy? Is that why you used magic?"

Regina guardedly lowers her eyes, but Emma tips up her chin and smiles softly.

"It's the first trimester," Emma consoles her. "I was sick all of the time with Henry. There's nothing to worry about – "

Emma runs her fingers through Regina's short hair. Regina discreetly swipes at a teardrop that is threatening to fall down her cheek.

"We can discuss this later," Regina mutters. "Everyone is waiting for us, and I don't need to remind you how my mother behaves in the company of your parents—"

"We've only been gone for ten minutes," Emma counters. "What can happen in ten minutes?"

When they leave the restroom, the first thing Emma notices is the absence of noise. The place has been cleared out, but Cora is sitting in their booth with her hands folded prettily in her lap.

Cora offers Regina an adoring smile, and greets Emma with a little wave of her hand. "Hi girls."

"Mother," Regina fumes. "What did you do?"

"Oh," Cora laughs to herself. "I was just trying to toast my bagel!" She motions to the burnt breakfast food and then reaches for her napkin. "Snow and Charming just love to overreact. The smoke alarm didn't even go off this time!"

Emma raises an eyebrow as she glances around at the other empty booths. "What happened to everyone else?" she asks.

"How should I know?" Cora blinks three times in rapid succession. "Perhaps they all finished eating their breakfast, and headed off to work."

Regina gives her mother a look of warning. "What happened to Ruby?" she demands.

Cora leans in conspiratorially, but then answers the question without lowering her voice. "Probably in the back, necking with that young librarian! Have you seen the way she talks to her?"

Regina puts a hand on her hip and presses her lips into a testy frown. "Mother," she grumbles.

"Oh, all right," Cora sulks. "I might have scared everyone off. They spook so easily!"

Emma tries to keep a straight face. "I think they're frightened because you turned Dr. Hopper back into a bug during your most recent therapy session," she explains.

Cora huffs loudly and tosses her napkin onto her plate. "I hate it when anyone suggests that I've been a bad influence on Regina. I admit that I meddled in her life, but look at that face. It's pure perfection! Clearly I did one thing right."

"Mother," Regina sighs, growing weary of the conversation. "We asked you to breakfast because we have some important news to share with you—"

"You've finally decided to get married?" Cora claps her hands together, and begins to sound far too excited. "Oh, Regina, this is why I spent those long hours grooming you! I always knew you were meant to marry royalty! I'm so glad my efforts weren't in vain. You'll be the queen again, my sweet girl!"

Emma thinks that Cora must have eaten a lot of shrooms while she was living in Wonderland.

Storybrooke is not the enchanted forest, and no matter how many times Emma has tried to explain the concept of 'democracy,' there's no getting through to Cora.

As far as Cora's concerned, Obama is some kind of wizard-monarch with untold powers. She loves listening to him on the television, even though she doesn't quite understand his lingo; she believes the "fiscal cliff" is some type of plot to extend his influence, and that it involves an actual cliff.

Cora strokes Regina's cheek with the back of her hand, and glows with pride. "I never thought anyone would love you again!" she remarks.

Regina goes stiff and hastily withdraws from her mother. She storms out the door without stopping to put on her coat.

Emma hurries to catch up with her, and slides into the passenger seat of the Mercedes just as Regina turns the key in the ignition.

Regina grips the steering wheel and stares out at the rain washed road. "Maybe we shouldn't tell my mother about the baby," she whispers.

"Maybe," Emma hesitantly agrees. She peers over at Regina, and then scoots across the seat.

Regina leans into Emma and buries her wet nose in the blonde woman's neck.

"She apologizes all of the time," Regina gurgles angrily. "She tells me that she regrets - forcing - me to marry the King. But then she talks about my upbringing, and I know that her apologies are insincere. She would do it all again."

Emma kisses Regina's forehead and watches the wind shield wipers sway back and forth.

"I've tried to cut her out of my life so many times," Regina hiccups. "But I can't - "

Regina pulls away from Emma and rubs the smeared makeup from her face.

"I don't know everything about your childhood," Emma whispers. "But it seems like she did a lot of unforgivable things back then. She's always pursuing her own agenda. And there's also the fact that she's tried to kill us all on several occasions - "

Regina checks her appearance in the overhead mirror. Her eyes are black, and a deep furrow cuts along her brow. She digs around in her purse until she finds her lipstick, and then applies the maroon shade to her lips.

"We're going to be late for our appointment," Regina breathes.

Emma frowns at Regina's evasion, and reluctantly moves back into her seat.

The hospital is crowded when they arrive. While Emma fills out paperwork about her medical history, Regina stands at the back of the waiting room and flips through a magazine.

A small boy with a freckled nose runs up to Regina. He stares at her for a long time before kicking her in the shin.

Regina locks her teeth in two straight lines, and gives the child a dirty look. "Excuse me," she hisses. "Why did you just kick me?"

The boy points at the television in the children's waiting corner. On screen, a cartoonish Evil Queen is scheming against Snow White.

Regina crosses the room in a few long strides and rips the television cord out of the wall. "Whose idea was it to show them this Disney propaganda?" she spits.

Two children scurry out of her way, but she spins around on the group, and scares them off with an emphasized, "Boo!"

"Regina!" Emma frowns, exhaling loudly. She takes Regina by the elbow and leads her in the direction of an exam room. "I thought we talked about this kind of behavior."

"You talked," Regina reminds her. "I listened patiently and decided that your logic was flawed."

Doc leaves Emma with a paper dressing gown. Regina helps her tie the strings on the gown, and then sits in a chair next to the ultrasound table.

Emma hops onto the table and swings her feet until the nurses show up. Neither woman wears a nametag, but Regina recognizes them as maids that served King Leopold. Their names used to be Margie and Verna.

Margie dumps cold jelly on Emma's stomach while Verna goes to the corner and sets up the sonogram machine.

Regina senses that the nurses are uncomfortable around her. Margie pointedly ignores her presence, but Verna steals frequent glances at her and Emma.

Doc strolls into the room and picks up the sonogram wand. "Hello again," he squeaks. "Are we ready to have a look?"

The dwarf skips around the table and rolls the wand over Emma's belly.

Regina holds Emma's hand and gazes up at the screen where a pea-sized dot pulsates and quivers.

"Everything seems normal," Doc announces, although his tone suggests that he expected to find something out of place, and is quite disappointed that he made no such discovery. He pushes his glasses further up on his face and squints at the image of the baby, just to be sure –

"Yep. There's the heartbeat. I'm sure you're most interested in that. Strong and healthy."

"I'm surprised it isn't growing horns and fangs!" Margie whispers to Verna. "I hope we're around to see the birth. I bet that thing will claw its way out!"

"What did you just say?" Regina shoots a murderous glare at both of the nurses.

"N-nothing, Your Majesty," Verna stutters. "Congratulations to you both."

Regina scowls at the obnoxious women and then focuses her attention on Emma.

"Have you told Snow?" Doc asks, while he polishes his bifocals on his tweed coat.

"Not yet," Emma admits, biting down on her bottom lip. "We're planning to tell her today."

"Oh," Doc shivers. "I'm sure she'll be delighted." His voice is warbling, and communicates another message entirely: I'm sure Snow White will be thrilled that you impregnated her daughter with your lesbian baby demon-spawn. Don't forget your co-pay!

"We'll give you some privacy so you can get changed," Doc smiles.

After Doc and the nurses go out into the hallway, Regina perches on the edge of the table with Emma.

"Are you happy?" Emma asks. She flutters her thick lashes, and Regina glimpses the sheen of tears in her blue eyes.

"Yes," Regina assures her, but her face is beat red and steamed. "I've never been happier – "

"Then why do you look like you're thinking about choking one of the nurses?" Emma whispers.

"Actually," Regina muses, "The victim of my most recent murder fantasy was that irritating little dwarf. We should look for a new obstetrician – someone outside of town. Perhaps someone in Boston..."

"Are you insane? I am not driving all the way to Boston," Emma warns her. "I'll end up giving birth in the back of your Mercedes, and you won't even let eat a cheeseburger in that car! At least we know that Doc is capable. He delivered me – "

"You were his first and last delivery," Regina replies, with her usual air of superiority. "He worked in the diamond mines before the curse took effect. He's barely qualified to swing a pickaxe, but if you want to trust him with a speculum and a pair of forceps, be my guest –"

Emma weighs her options carefully; she could always become Dr. Whale's patient, but he's seen her mom naked, and that only makes the whole situation that much more awkward.

"Boston it is," she quickly decides.


The rain has cleared by the time Emma and Regina leave the hospital. Large puddles reflect the sunlight, and yellow rays shine through the trees with greater vibrancy.

The Charming residence is situated on a sprawling plot in the same neighborhood where Regina and Emma live. A Victorian house sits at the top of a swell in the land, and Snow's gardens dot the surrounding landscape.

Regina parks on the road, and guides Emma up the meandering driveway.

Snow is in the midst of pruning her hedges when she spots Emma. She drops her shears, and swerves around a tree, hurrying towards her daughter. "Emma!" she calls out, in a cheerful and breathless huff.

A bright canary swoops after Snow and flies overhead. Regina feels something warm splatter against her arm, and rolls her eyes skyward as she takes in the sight of her new nemesis, Zizi.

"That - god - damn bird," Regina spits.

"I'm so sorry!" Snow cries at Regina. "He's been having a lot of accidents lately!"

"I'll just go inside and freshen up," Regina grunts while grinding her teeth together. Emma gives her an apologetic look before she starts up the cobblestone walkway.

Emma follows her mother indoors, and into the cozy kitchen that overlooks a brick patio. The furniture in the space is antique, nicked and battered by age, and the paintings from Snow's apartment have been hung up on the walls.

An old kettle sits on top of the stove, and Snow uses it to boil water for hot chocolate.

Zizi flits around the room and hops along the windowsill.

When Regina comes into the kitchen, Snow is talking emphatically with Emma.

"I taught Zizi a new trick yesterday!" Snow smiles, nursing a mug of her hot cocoa. "Watch." She snaps her fingers at the bird, and Zizi skips over to her embroidery.

Snow threads a needle through one of Charming's shirts, and the bird uses its beak to bring her buttons.

"Lovely," Regina snorts. "Your bird can sew, stir your tea, and help you with your planting. But it can't remember a simple thing like where it should or shouldn't defecate."

Zizi chirps happily and then takes up roost on Regina's shoulder.

"Look!" Snow beams at Regina. "He likes you!"

Emma chokes on her cocoa when she sees the look on Regina's face.

"I'm – so – glad," Regina replies, in a voice that is flat and completely devoid of enthusiasm.

Charming wanders into the room and settles down in a chair at the head of the table. He greets Emma with a warm smile, and reaches out to squeeze her shoulder. His greeting for Regina is somewhat different; he nods his head to acknowledge her and gestures for her to sit down. It is a sign of respect, and nothing more.

"So," Snow muses. "Emma mentioned that you have some news for us." She glances up at Regina, and Emma can feel the nervous tension before it materializes in anyone's body language.

Regina wilts into her seat and trains her eyes on her former enemies. "Yes," she agrees. "We do."

Emma's face begins to fall, but she takes both of her parents by the hand, and then glances back at Regina. "We're having a baby," she announces, unable to contain her excitement.

Snow manages to sit wide-eyed and unflinching after hearing the news. "That's - wonderful," she drawls.

Charming seems more receptive to the idea. He breaks out in a smile, and shifts in his chair. "How should we celebrate?" he asks Emma. "Should we go out for drinks?"

"Oh," Emma blinks, frowning slightly. "Actually, I'm the one that's pregnant."

Charming's attitude undergoes a quick change. He starts pushing up his shirtsleeves, and his nostrils flare as he turns to Regina. "You knocked up my daughter and you don't even have the decency to marry her?" he demands.

"Such double standards," Regina observes. "Two minutes ago, you were ready to pat your daughter on the back and buy her a beer."

Emma has a wounded look about her, and Regina places a comforting hand on the blonde woman's shoulder.

Snow pours more cocoa for everyone and tries to take control of the conversation. "We're… - happy for you," she haltingly tells Emma. "How is Henry? Is he excited?"

"We haven't told him yet," Emma sighs. "He went fishing with his father." She risks glancing at Charming, even though she is unprepared to deal with his rejection. "I'm surprised he didn't invite you," she whispers.

Charming wraps his arm around Emma, and her worry visibly subsides. "We already had plans to spend the morning with you," he reminds her.

"I'm sorry that my mother ruined those plans," Regina mutters.

Snow wisely refrains from commenting, though Cora has tested her charitable nature on many occasions, and that woman makes her feel nothing but a blind hatred. "Have you told her about the baby?" she asks, exchanging an anxious look with Charming.

"We're planning to wait on that," Regina informs Snow. She rises up from her chair and washes her cup out in the sink.

"Emma," Charming mumbles to his daughter. "Why don't we step outside? I want to show you that bookshelf I built for Henry."

As soon as Emma and Charming have gone, Snow spins on Regina. "How did this happen?" she cries. "Did you…. - I don't know - use a turkey baster?"

"Of course, dear," Regina snorts sarcastically. She returns to her chair and crosses her legs at the ankles. "The same baster I use for the gravy."

Snow appears to buy into this version of events. "But… last week was Thanksgiving," she mutters to herself.

"We used a fairy blessing," Regina clarifies, struggling to maintain her patience with Snow.

"So you asked the fairies for their blessing," Snow complains, "But didn't think to ask for mine?" She stomps her feet, and scrunches up her brow.

"Would you have given us your blessing?" Regina asks, because she is genuinely interested in the answer.

The long silence that ensues is proof enough that Snow wouldn't have encouraged their choice of actions.

Snow stands on the opposite side of the room, looking rigid and frustrated.

"The fairies never had the chance to grant Emma the gifts of her birth rite," Regina begrudgingly explains. "She received the blessing as a present. She decided what to do with it—"

Snow twirls her wedding band around her ring finger and frowns.

Regina straightens her shoulders and brushes a loose bang behind her ear. "I'm actually glad we have this opportunity to talk, because I have a favor to ask of you. There are certain details of my past that I don't want Emma to know…."

"I'm sure you remember what happened when you were fifteen," Regina continues, unable to contain the slight edge that creeps into her voice. "We visited King Bruin's palace, and while we were celebrating the winter feast, I became ill..." Her eyes darken and her upper lip tightens until her scar can be seen. "Kindly avoid all discussion of that."

"Regina," Snow protests. "Don't keep secrets from Emma—"

Regina glowers at Snow and arches her back like a hissing cat.

"Were you talking about me?" Emma asks. She's standing just inside the glass door to the kitchen with a curious smile on her face.

"No," Regina lies, feeling her energy wane. "We just wondered why you were taking so long. Are you ready to go?"


Forgot to mention that this story also has a one-shot companion piece in which Emma and Regina make the baby. It's rated M for obvious reasons.