Author's Note: This is my first time actually putting a story on here, so I hope this goes well. Once Upon a Time quickly became my favorite show. I LOVE the dynamic between Emma and Henry. Their scenes are my favorite parts, so you can only imagine how excited I am about Sunday's episode. I think Henry is such an adorable little kid. If I write more, it will all probably be Emma/Henry/Mary Margaret and maybe Regina. Enjoy!

I obviously don't own Once Upon a Time or any of the characters in this story.

Emma's POV.

It was Emma's first day on the job and she already wished that she could just clock out and head home. Home. This was all too weird. She'd spent the last ten years wandering from place to place, never once considering any of those places "home," yet she's been in this town for a grand total of six days and she already felt like this is where she had to be. Home is wherever Henry is. God, she really wished that thought would stop popping into her head. Her brain spent a decade telling her to run while her heart screamed at her to find her son. If the mayor had really done her research, she wouldn't have had that smug look on her face while giving Emma yet another little lecture at Granny's. Had Regina known that Emma spent two years in Tallahassee because that's where she thought her kid might have been, that conversation probably would have taken a much different turn.

According to the town's suddenly-functional clock, it was 6:15. Her shift was finally over. Emma no longer had to patrol the streets looking for potential delinquents and suspicious activity. She turned on her heel and started heading in the direction of her apartment building. Hopefully she could avoid telling Mary Margaret that teaching a room full of 4th graders was more exciting and eventful than Emma's job as deputy sheriff of the town.

It was 6:30 by the time she reached the door of her new residence. The second that she walked in, she froze. There were mixing bowls and spices and spatulas scattered all over the counter. There was brown batter on the floor that someone obviously stepped in judging by the little tracks all around the kitchen. Three empty egg shells laid atop a mound of spilled flour and the oven timer had been set to go off in about the next 10 minutes. Was Mary Margaret expecting company?

"What are you doing here? You weren't supposed to be home until 7!"

Mary Margaret was in the process of trying to rip off her apron while running down the steps.

"Excuse me?" This certainly wasn't the kind of greeting Emma was expecting after her first day at a new job.

"You have to leave! Don't come back until 7. The cake still has to be iced and-"

"Cake? Do you have a dinner party planned or something?"

Mary Margaret grabbed Emma by the arm and began pulling her back towards the door.

"Come on. Hurry up before Henry comes down and sees you!"

Henry was here? No, is here? Oh geesh. The mayor was going to have their heads.

"Hold up. What is he doing here? His mother grounded him and if she finds out-"

Mary Margaret put a hand over Emma's mouth while shutting the door to the apartment with her remaining hand once they were out of it.

"Shh! Lower your voice and calm down before Henry hears you. The mayor had some sort of meeting with Mr. Gold at 5 and she told Henry not to expect her back for quite some time…."

Okay, seriously, the kid is 10. He shouldn't be left alone for half an hour, let alone four or five. Emma's frustration with the mayor was definitely growing into hatred.

"Does she ever see him or spend time with him? I mean she keeps telling me that he's her son, but she doesn't act like his mother. She acts like he's her possession."

Mary Margaret had to get Emma on board with the new plan she was devising before the oven timer went off and Henry came back down.

"Let's not think about that right now. Look, Henry's probably the most thoughtful little boy you'll ever meet. After his mo….the mayor left, he came here and asked me to help bake you a cake."

Emma once again finds her heart melting over her son for the thousandth time as Mary Margaret continued her explanation.

"Henry told me that when he arrived at your apartment in Boston, there was a little cupcake sitting on your counter. He said that you didn't get the chance to eat it after he showed up. He then asked me if I would help him bake you a belated birthday cake because he isn't allowed to use the oven without supervision and he wants me to celebrate your birthday too. When you…well, when you were supposed to get home, he was going to surprise you with a chocolate cake and a little gift that he made for you. He worked so hard on this and if the surprise is ruined I know he'll be devastated. We're lucky that he made a mess of himself and had to go up to the bathroom to wash off."

Emma had tears in her eyes at this point. She could barely make out her friend's face. At this point she didn't care if Mary Margaret or anyone else saw her cry. Her kid planned all of this just for her. She agreed to sit outside until 7 so that Mary Margaret and Henry could finish the cake and Henry could wrap his little gift. She needed the time to collect her emotions anyway because she had rivers flowing from her eyes right now.

The rest of the hour flew by and Emma quickly found herself slowly turning the doorknob to her apartment. She tried her best to pat her eyes dry and to fix her make-up so that she could put on her best surprised face. The blonde was scanning the bottom level of the apartment when she spotted a "Happy Birthday" sign hung across the railings on the stairs and then a head of messy brown hair that was full of flour and clumps of batter. Her face lit up as Henry enthusiastically jumped up and yelled "Surprise!" while Mary Margaret smiled gratefully at her.

And here come the tears again.

She watched as Henry came towards her and she let him pull her over to the table where the cake sat. It was a little lopsided and the icing looked like it had been put on with a rake, but it was the best confectionary item that she'd ever seen. Next to the cake sat a wad scrunched up wrapping paper and tape….that must have been her present that he wrapped himself. Damn this kid for being so sweet!

Henry saw his mother looking at the present, so he decided to start with that. When he went to let go of her hand, her grip wouldn't loosen. So, he instead reached across the table with his free hand and placed the object in front of his stunned mother. She eventually let go of her kid's hand and began to carefully peel back the paper. She didn't want to rip it because she planned on keeping everything that Henry gave her tonight….even the crumpled wrapping paper. She slowly removed the silk pouch and undid the drawstring to peek inside of the bag.

Rocks?

"They're called Journey Stones. Miss Blanchard had us go outside one day when I was in the 1st grade and told us to pick out the tiniest rock we could find."

Emma looked to her friend and saw the teacher smiling at Henry with pride.

"Then when I went to the 2nd grade, she took my class outside again and told us to pick a stone that was a little bigger than the one we had chosen in 1st grade. She did the same thing in 3rd grade and we just did it again last week. The idea is to get a bigger stone every year and write the number of what grade we're in on the stone using a marker. We keep the stones in this little bag so we don't lose them. My mom told the principal that going outside and picking dirt wasn't learning, so we can't do it anymore. I want you to have my stones and the picture of me that's in the baggie."

She couldn't handle this. She was going to lose it.

Emma grabbed Henry and held onto him for dear life. She held him so tight that he thought he might actually black out, but he didn't want her to let go. Sometimes actions speak louder than words, and this was her way of saying thank you. No words were needed.

"I hate to interrupt…but if Henry's going to be able to have a piece of cake before we get him home we will have to cut the cake now." Mary Margaret had finally found her voice underneath all of the emotion.

Emma slowly eased her son out of her embrace, but she kept an arm around him as he moved on to his next plan for the celebration. She watched as Mary Margaret handed the kid a box of birthday candles that he was going to stick all around the surface of the cake.

"Save the candles, kid."

"What? You have to have candles on a cake. That's how they do it on TV!" Emma couldn't help but giggle at the look on his face.

"I have exactly what I spent the last decade wishing for."