Home Again


"Are you going to miss me?" She asked Hanna as she sprawled on one of their extravagantly comfortable twin pool chairs, enjoying the last bit of sun before it dipped below the houses and beyond their vision. She had woken happily that morning just as she knew she would. The dream had been quickly burnt away by the bright morning light. In the sunlight, the dark memories of her past always seemed to shrink into nothing.

Hanna's half day had been a pleasant surprise though the real treat had been throwing on their swimsuits and heading down to the pool they had thus far seldom used over the warm season. Emma had assumed that they would have spent her last night in town at Hanna's latest favorite club, drinking and dancing but a quiet evening in the setting sun was perfect.

"Of course I will!" Hanna laughed, tossing a football into the air and catching it. Her arms rippling as she grinned down at her future wife. "Will you miss me?"

"Yeah. Of course I will." She watched Hanna throw the ball higher into the air and then dive sideways athletically to save it from the cruel shame of hitting the ground.

"Are you excited to be going home yet?"

Emma was no steadier in her answer now than she had been earlier that day or the day before or anytime in the past month. "I dunno, I guess." She shrugged, pulling lightly at a loose string in the chair.

"You think? You need to work on that whole sounding a little bit happy to be going thing. Your apathy is showing, Detective Swan."

Emma laughed despite herself, "No, if I were Swan then this wouldn't be a problem. I would go totally cool and collected because she's a badass like that." Emma pretended to karate chop the air "Also, I'm not apathetic about going. I can't wait to see my mom and Ruby. I'm just nervous. It's a long time to be gone."

Hanna scoffed, running her hands over her short smoothed hair as if checking to be sure it was still perfectly styled. "Absence definitely makes the heart grow fonder, right? Even if it does fuckin' blow. Plus, Swan, we have been together for so long that it will probably be good for us. I need to forget what you look like for a while."

Emma scoffed and chucked her empty beer can at her.

Hanna just danced out of the way, ducking and weaving as though about to take on a whole army single-handedly.

She and Hanna had been together for exactly four years and seven months, engaged for one year as of the month before. The long engagement had not been part of their original plan, but in the past twelve months their life simply had not been conducive to planning a wedding. Hanna had been freshly graduated from law school and was busy bouncing back and forth between firms, looking for a place to settle. Emma had just come up for air after spending two years on the second book in her Detective Swan series and had just been given the green light by her original publishing house to start working with an editor. Then five months ago, to Emma's pleasure, Hanna had announced that she had gotten her 'dream job'. As an incendiary bonus, the firm had agreed to hire her knowing that a year from her start date she would be taking off a month to get married and have a honeymoon.

Elated, the couple had finally plunged into making plans. The decision of where to hold the wedding had been their first snag. They could have it in New Orleans, true. The friends they had made as a couple were there and if they had the wedding in New Orleans, there were a lot of citywide traditions they could follow which would be a lot of fun. Only Emma's mother, Mary, was constantly sick thanks to the elementary school children she taught. A few months before her retirement she had had suffered a horrible infection in her ear drum and was still not cleared to fly - and neither woman wanted her mother to take on a twenty-four-hour drive from her home to theirs. Mary's resolute inability to fly also removed the possibility of having the wedding in Hanna's California hometown. This left one option; they had to hold the wedding in Emma's tiny hometown of Storybrooke, Maine.

It had taken Hanna a solid three days to get her stubborn fiancée to agree. Emma had not been back to Storybrooke in five years. It would be more accurate to say that Emma had avoided going back to the town at all costs since the day she had run from it five years before. She had been adamant. No. She knew what was waiting for her there...and what wasn't.

But Hanna was a smart woman and she knew how to get her pigheaded girl to agree. She had spent days retelling all of the stories she had learned of Emma's life once she had moved and settled in Storybrooke. She asked for details about the clock tower, descriptions of Granny's pancakes and what the view from the docks at the edge of town looked like. The more Hanna talked, the more Emma was filled by fond memories until Hanna won and Emma realized the idea of a wedding away from the town she had adopted as her home made her heart hurt.

Hanna had been smugly impossible to live with for a week after that.

The planning began, but they hit the second snag almost instantly. The city of Storybrooke was so damn small that most stores and shops were tiny mom & pop type places. They didn't have websites and they weren't set up for any kind of electronic payments. How the hell could they book a venue when they couldn't see pictures of the site? How could they decide on a bakery when they couldn't taste a sample of their cakes? Even if they decided to move forward without doing those things, how the hell were they going to pay for it and solidify their date? They could ask Mary and Emma's best friend, Ruby, for some help of course, but there was only so much they could do for them. Not that they didn't try. They had sent Ruby to look at the only event hall in town and she had reported back 'It's nice in a disco meets Bing Crosby kind of way'. They had no idea what that meant.

It was quickly clear that planning a wedding from ten or more states away was difficult, if not impossible.

Then one night Emma and Hanna had gone out with friends to celebrate the completion of a piece that had been torturing Emma for months. They had happily danced, shooting shot after shot as a group. When they were nicely drunk, Hanna had dropped a bomb.

"Why don't you take a vacation?" She had casually offered as though she was suggesting they go to a movie or have pizza instead of chicken for dinner.

Emma had just chuckled. A vacation would be great, but it wasn't going to happen; she hadn't taken a single one in five years. "Sure. And then perhaps we could fly to the moon. Oh, or maybe we could go meet the Queen."

"I'm serious!" Hanna insisted. "You could go home."

"What?" she sputtered, spilling a small amount of her mixed drink into her lap. Was she crazy?

"Think about it." Hanna insisted in her best soothing voice, "You could finish up the wedding plans with your mom and Ruby."

"You want me to go back to Storybrooke…alone…and plan our wedding?"

"Well no." Hanna frowned, "I don't really want you to, but I'm not sure how else we will plan it."

"Don't you want to be included in the decisions?"

Hanna had laughed and taken a long swallow of her beer, "We both know this wedding is for you, Emma. I didn't come from a marriage of 'true love' like you did. My parents are divorced. They fucking hate each other. Plus, I'm a divorce lawyer. I've never thought I needed a wedding."

Emma, intoxicated or not, frowned and tried not to be stung.

"Besides," Hanna concluded "I know you'll keep me in the loop."

"What about work?"

Hanna scoffed, "What about it? If we wait until the beginning of next month then you will be through with 'talks' and then it's just waiting for the book to print, right?"

"Right?"

"Well, you took off a year off of writing last time, remember? You just worked on your articles. Are you planning on doing that again? Because I think that you squirreled away so much cash between bonus', advances and that stupid job that you could go to Storybrooke for a year without working."

Still, she had instantly declined but Hanna would not give up. She had persisted over the following days until Emma had realized, much to her chagrin, that the plan was a good one. She did need a vacation. She had saved up plenty of money for one. Perhaps it was time to go home.

She sighed and covered her face from the evening sun still contemplating Hanna's insistence that she should be happier about her return trip, "Yeah, the best answer I can come up with is I think I'm excited. I haven't seen any of those people in … a while and I haven't been back for a reason. What happens," she faltered a little bit, her hidden worry sneaking past her control, "if I see people I don't want to see? What happens if everyone is still mad at me for leaving in the first place?"

Hanna planted herself in the grass next to her, thoughtful. "Well, you're going to see someone you don't want to see. Your hometown has, what, twelve people in it?"

She rolled her eyes and slapped Hanna's leg.

"I think that they have a right to be mad, Swan." Hanna said slowly as she sobered, "I don't know why you left so suddenly, one day we should have that talk, but you did leave without giving your friends and family a chance to say goodbye. Let them be angry, Emma. Then make it up to them on this trip." Hanna smiled broadly before continuing, "Plus the way I see it is if you see someone you don't want to see then it's karma forcing you to let them forgive you."

Emma smiled a little; the problem was that she wasn't the one that needed to be forgiven.

"Besides, it's not as though you seeing them means you will be forced to spend time with them."

Emma nodded and slipped her sunglasses back on, unsure of what to say in response to a moment of such wisdom. It was unlike Hanna who usually stuck to 'make lemonade out of life's lemons' and 'keep your chin up'.

"Stop worrying."

Emma sighed, "I'm not worrying, see I'm tanning."

"Do you wish we had gone down to the Quarter tonight? We still can if you want."

"No." Emma said quickly and smiled, to cover her blunder.

Hanna didn't seem to notice. She just playfully kicked Emma's feet, "Stop tanning and come play with me."

Laughing a little Emma got up and played a game of catch with her before Hanna pulled a shrieking Emma into the cold water of the pool, splashing and wrestling.

They settled into the lawn chairs as the stars came up in the sky and quickly became lost in their own worlds. It was clear that Hanna's mind had drifted to some case she was working on, and Emma's mind had floated 1,700 miles away to her hometown.

What was it going to be like? Was she really sure that she wanted to do this?

No. The easy answer was no, she wasn't sure.

"I'm going to hop into the shower." She ran her fingers through her hair briskly; a sure sign of her distress to anyone paying attention, "That way I don't have to take one in the morning."

"Yeah I'll come up too." Hanna distractedly checked her phone.

They stomped into their apartment and tossed their sodden bathing suits in the downstairs washing machine. "Oh crap, I guess I should bring that with me, shouldn't I." she swore, "It's not like I'll do a lot of swimming in Maine but just in case." Gruffly she started the machine and shoved her fingers through her hair, stressfully.

This finally caught Hanna's attention; suddenly arms were around Emma pushing her back into the wall.

Emma gasped surprised but grinned, "Oh yeah?"

"What's wrong?" Hanna asked, kissing her throat.

Their sex life had been somewhat stagnant for the year, okay more like two before Hanna had proposed. But things had been white hot again thanks to the novelty of we're-getting-married sex.

"Nothing. I just need to get into the shower."

Hanna kissed her, "Can I hop in the shower with you?"

She smiled and nodded, pinching her nose teasingly, "That's a good idea."

Hanna scowled a not-at-all scary scowl and kissed her again, picking her up and pinning her to the wall. Emma hadn't always enjoyed it when Hanna picked her up and threw her around like it was nothing but she had come to love it over the years.

Hanna was short with the body of a beach volleyball player, solid strong legs and a rock hard stomach so tight that the muscles had to protrude just a bit to exist. Her hair was short and cropped to be easily smoothed into a professional but trendy undercut.

Hanna caressed the thighs that Emma had wrapped around her and nuzzled her neck. Despite the fact that Emma was a full three inches taller than her and fairly well muscled herself thanks to her own vigorous workout routine, Hanna's extreme exercise habits made the physical dominance easy.

Lips closed around Emma's earlobe, making her sigh with pleasure.

Hanna hadn't exactly been Emma's typical type when they met, neither physically nor in personality. It was a misnomer that feminine women were predominantly attracted to masculine women and vise versa; Emma was the perfect example of that. It was true she had her mild tomboy side but it only extended into a love of jeans and boots instead of skirts and heels - not that she couldn't be found a couple of times in year in those as well.

She had always been attracted to other tall and feminine women since she had come out as a lesbian at the age of fifteen. When asked about this Emma had always just laughed and said simply that she was a woman who loved fem women. She loved the look, the sound, the soft perfumed skin, and the attitude of high heels, pantyhose and lace lingerie.

Hanna's boyish ways had been fascinatingly different but unexciting to Emma; her own polka dotted, or baby pink boy shorts were the most macho thing she wanted to see on her bedroom floor. It had never occurred to her that perhaps she might find a woman who wore boxer shorts and boy's skinny jeans attractive. But she had.

They had met at a party of a colleague one night not long after Emma had arrived in 'NOLA'. At first the charismatic woman had only intrigued Emma and they had spent a few hours in lengthy conversations. Once Emma had realized that Hanna was pushing for a hookup she had given her a polite thank you but no thank you. Still despite the entertainment of the party Emma had continually found herself back in a corner in conversation with the woman. A few drinks later she allowed herself to be escorted home.

Emma had planned their interaction to be nothing more than a one-night stand, but they had become friends quickly. For someone studying Family Law specializing in divorce, Hanna was confident and kind. Emma found that this girl was brave, high-spirited and very proud. Her gumption and determination were awe-inspiring. She didn't know when she had agreed to a relationship; instead one day she had just realized she was unsure of exactly how long they had been dating.

"Or," Hanna said biting her shoulder and bringing her thoughts back around to her current position, "we could do something else."

"Hmmm. You're smelly." Emma said in fake protest, pulling her legs tighter around Hanna.

"Yeah, it seems like you care oh so very much."

The couple showered and then spent a long while making love before falling apart, exhausted.

"I really am going to miss you." Hanna mumbled already tipping into sleep. Emma rolled onto her side against her and sighed content. The stone of her ring snagged against the sheets as it often did and triggered thoughts of the looming wedding.

"Hanna, are you sure you're okay with not being there when I plan, well, basically all of the wedding? I know you say you don't care but…"

Distress seemed to settle over Hanna. She ran her fingers through her hair sharpening the fallen strands and studied the ceiling for a moment or two then propped herself up on one elbow with a look of urgency in her eyes, "Look Emma-"

"Babe? What's wrong?" The expression on her face had startled Emma deeply. She softly caressed Hanna's chin trying to smooth it away.

The look melted away and she softly fell back against the pillows, "Nothing babe. I'm just going to miss you."

Emma spooned into the crook of Hanna's arm "Are you sure? It kinda seemed like you had something you wanted to say."

"Yeah," Hanna huffed into the darkness of their bedroom.

"Okay." Emma frowned, uneasy.


Emma woke at 4:15 the next morning just before Hanna left for the day. Nerves flooded her the moment her eyes opened but she didn't have time for that! Hanna would be out of the door in minutes. She needed to filter her thoughts and get the hell up.

"Look at you," she grinned sleepily kissing Hanna, "you look all sexy in your workout clothes. Why don't you wear those ones more often?" In her tight lime green bra top and Trackies, Hanna looked like a small, dykey blonde Sporty Spice and it pulled at Emma's 90's girl heart.

Hanna laughed and plopped a pillow over her face, "Morning breath."

"Sorry, gimmie a minute." She jumped up and skipped to the bathroom brushing her teeth quickly.

"Hey babe, I gotta go if I'm going to beat the traffic." Hanna called from the living room.

"Hanna Mason, you're not going to see your future bride for at least a month! Wait thirty seconds! You will still miss the traffic."

Standing arms crossed at the door Hanna was smiling just a little bit despite her hurried words. Approaching her Emma could see that the look from last night was back as if something needed to come out of her else she would explode. Still Hanna only said, "If I'm late I'm going to call and give you hell. You won't be able to enjoy your first day back home for all the nasty calls and texts."

Emma rolled her eyes, seeing through her words. "I'll get there safely. I promise."

Hanna nodded in approval and chuckled, "Good."

Emma fit herself into Hanna's arms, "Are you sure you can't miss a day of working out and come back to bed with me?"

"I can't. It throws off my entire day when I don't go to the gym. Plus you know that I have goals I'm trying to reach. I told you I want a six pack by the wedding."

"Oh alright. I'll miss you though."

"I'll miss you too, Swan." She said quickly and kissed her again, "Bye future Mrs. Mason." she called behind her as she headed down the front steps toward her parked car.

Emma watched her go, a sour taste of worry in her mouth.

She was actually leaving today for Maine.

She was watching her fiancée walk down the street away from her.

She wouldn't see her for at least a month.

The look of stress that Hanna had worn twice in the last twenty-four hours played through her mind. She didn't like it, but she didn't have time to worry.

She went back upstairs, her nerves about the adventure she was soon to face brinking on a Pop Rocks and Coke combination. Her impending flight was in three hours and she had a shuttle scheduled to pick her up in thirty minutes. She didn't have a lot of time to fool around; and thank god for that otherwise she might talk herself out of going at all...again.

Thirty-five minutes later she looked around the apartment that she would not see for many months and headed out the door.

As she sat grumpily in the usual Interstate 10 traffic, her phone rang making her anxiety teeter toward excitement, "Ruby! I'm on my way!"

Ruby howled, "Dude! Yes. I can't believe you're going to be here for so long! I'm so excited. It's going to be so much fun having you around again, 'cause, you know, this place has not gotten any less boring since you moved away. Have you left yet?"

"In the shuttle now."

"Oh okay, I won't keep you. You get in around five, right?"

"Right."

"Sounds good. Damn, I'm so excited. You know the only reason I'm not kidnapping you tonight is because your mom specifically asked me not to!"

"I bet she did."

"Well, that's alright. I'll see you tomorrow. Ah, I can't believe I'm saying that!"

They cheered together again and hung up.

Grinning she let her head fall to the side against the window and thought about Ruby. She just couldn't wait to see her!

When Emma had left her hometown in Maine, it had been in a rush so quick that most of her friends hadn't realized she had moved for a week or more. Once the anger at her sudden disappearance and lack of a goodbye had passed, Emma had done her best to keep in contact with all of her old friends. It had proved impossible and over the years people slowly fell away as they lost common interests and experiences until there was only Ruby.

Emma blushed noticing that her cries of delight with Ruby had woken a few of the dozing travelers on the shuttle. They were now glaring at her with a touch of early morning annoyance. She muttered a small apology. She was rarely a silly person, she seemed to have grown out it somewhere around the age of twenty-seven, but there were a few people who easily drew that out of her. All the people she was about to see – well – with one exception.

Her gut turned to nervous rot.

Would she be seeing her back in their hometown?

She doubted a reunion was in their near future even if they did happen to glance one another.

Perhaps they would both be at The Rabbit Hole or in one of the few grocery stores in town. As a matter of fact, she was prepared for that to happen; it was inevitable - but that would probably be the extent of the contact. She doubted Regina would want to see her and truthfully she didn't think she wanted to see Regina either, not really. It was petty but despite the five years that had come and gone Emma was still angry, not in the way she had once been but still angry enough that she was solidly resolved to keep Regina out of her life.

Besides, what would be the point in stirring up old memories? If the dreams twisted Emma's gut as badly as they did then she could only imagine how it would feel actually to see Regina. No thank you let sleeping dogs lie.


The airport is never a friendly place no matter how much you enjoy traveling. But despite the hassle, Emma was eventually shoved into the cramped airline seat. Her luggage was stowed, her tray was in the upright and locked position and with a small and slightly regretful glance out the window she was on her way.

She hadn't brought much in the form of entertainment for the trip. So she rested her head back and closed her eyes, hoping for sleep.

The first flight was bumpy, though thanks to her very dark sunglasses it was restful. Her second flight was smooth sailing and didn't give her a lot of time to worry. When she opened her eyes again she was landing.

For a moment her chest tightened, and she couldn't breathe. She was home. All trepidation seemed to vanish at the sight of the airport. How had she thought that coming home was not an important thing to pursue? Now that she was here she was sure she didn't want to be anywhere else in the world.

A weight slid off of her chest and her stomach tangoed between nerves and pleasure.

As they taxied around the building, a slide show began in her mind. The pumpkin patch her mother had taken her to since the year she had been adopted. Granny's where Emma used to go and sip hot cocoa while she wrote her high school articles on the rainy days. The lot just outside of town where families could cut down Christmas trees themselves. They had gone to that lot every year, even after her father's death, despite the fact that she and her mother could never cut one down on their own. It had become a tradition to do their best, eventually surrender and accept the help of a waiting employee or two.

She could almost smell the familiar scent of fall in Maine, the mix of wet leaves, wet cement, smoke from fireplaces and carved pumpkins beginning to live just past their prime. It was so strange to think that she would experience these things again. They had been markers of her late childhood yet they were unfamiliar to her now.

She thought of the years she had spent in Storybrooke. Summers and holidays passed through her mind and though she did her best to ignore this fact, Regina highlighted every one of them, an unfortunate permanent fixture in her past.


To Emma's delight, her mother hovered just outside of the security gate. Her lovely face was torn between excitement and fret waiting for a glimpse of her daughter. She stood hands clasped together under her chin looking beautiful to Emma's eye but older than expected, when had that happened? Her dark hair was cropped stylishly short as it always had been, but now there were the first few sprinkles of gray littered throughout. For the first time, even at a distance, Emma could see that small signs of permanent wrinkles had embedded themselves deeply into the skin around her mother's eyes and lips.

Emma took a moment, as she always did, to readjust to the fact that her warm and loving father was not standing at her mother's side.

"Ma! Mom! Ma!" she called waving a magazine filled hand over her head. Mary's face blanched in a moment of relief and then glowed, "Emma!" She waited impatiently until she could grab her daughter and hug her tightly to her. "Oh, you're home, sweetie! You're home! Thank goodness! How are you? How was your flight? Oh, I'm so happy to see you! You look so good."

Emma grinned at her mother's enthusiasm and wished they were alone so she could jump up and down, perhaps doing a silly little dance like she wanted to do. It had been too long.

She and her mother had never had a typical relationship. As a matter of fact, Emma had hated her until she was at least fourteen years old, always closer to her adopted father, David.

It had always been true that David could see no wrong in the daughter of his heart. They had gotten along perfectly from the very beginning. Unlike Mary he had never expected anything from her and so being with him had always been easy; that alone had been enough to seal their bond.

It had been David who had asked Emma if they could adopt her one-year after her arrival to The Nolan household.

Mary, however, well - it had been quickly apparent that she and Mary had no idea how to relate to one another. It took Mary a year to finally stop buying Emma cute pink and frilly dresses and it took Emma a year to stop throwing them out the window of their two-story house. They had butted heads about Emma's generally pessimistic attitude and her desire to stay on her toes, ready for the next move or the next reassigning. Mostly, Mary had always wanted desperately to be Emma's mother, pushing the teen for comfortable familiarity constantly while Emma had never been entirely sure that she wanted or trusted a mother figure. That made them fight.

Emma knew her young hesitance hadn't been entirely about Mary. Perhaps if the Eubanks mother hadn't slapped her across the face every time she made any type of mess or if the Conner mother hadn't starved her for a week because she thought Emma was getting fat – or perhaps if the Inman mother hadn't fractured three of Emma's ribs...

There had always been one thing and one thing alone that Emma could talk to Mary about with ease.

Her writing.

When Emma was little, they would sit at the dining room table while Emma drew pictures with crayons and told Mary elaborate stories about each of the characters. As she grew older, it was Mary who convinced Emma to write her first short story. After that, they spent hours together while Emma explained her complicated plots and insights behind the people she had created. It was the only time that all the discomfort, all the expectations they placed on one another in their desperate attempt to be mother and child dropped away and they could just be. It had helped and they had built a tentative friendship.

Then when Emma was fifteen David had been hit by a drunk driver just outside of the Storybrooke town limits. He was killed on impact.

Emma's world crumbled. She should have turned to her new mother for comfort and support only Emma hadn't. She had turned instead to Emma. Mary, who had needed her new daughter more than ever after the death of her husband, couldn't understand. They spent years in a distant, hostile standoff, fighting like cats and dogs until finally, Emma ran. She lived on the streets of Portland for three weeks before the authorities picked her up and taken her back to a panic stricken Mary. Things changed then. Mary stopped pushing and Emma let her in. Their relationship improved incrementally until for the first time in Emma's life she felt comfortable using the word that she had grown to desire so completely – mom.

Mary had eventually become Emma's best friend and giving up the ability to see her every day had been the hardest thing to come to terms with after her departure.

Emma's mind chirped like a small built in alarm clock reminding her that there had been something harder to give up.

Regina. Emma's very best friend of all. Regina had been the hardest thing to give up.

Still looking into her mother's face she promised that she wouldn't let herself be away for so long again.


When they arrived at the house, Emma dropped her bags upstairs in the room that was frozen in time, reflecting the teenage girl who once lived there. It was still somewhat strange 'coming home' to the loft. She missed the large house she had grown up in, but she understood her mother's reasoning for moving once her father had passed.

She took a moment to freshen up, snickering lightly at the out of date posters and sent Hanna a message that she had arrived safely. Hanna immediately sent back a relieved thank goodness and asked how her mother was.

Just as she was leaving the room, Emma stopped, caught by the pictures framed and sitting on the dresser.

Goodness, when had they gotten so old? Emma still felt like a teenager but seeing herself in these pictures she realized that just wasn't true.

She laughed fondly as she stared down at nineteen-year-old Ruby, Emma and twenty-one-year-old Regina huddled around a campfire looking resentfully miserable and cold. The next was seventeen-year-old Emma and Ruby with their faces painted from the summer carnival. Then Emma and Regina at age eleven and age thirteen hugging tightly happy just to be near one another. Next, Emma at age fifteen in some silly getup she couldn't remember wearing while the seventeen-year-old Regina reached forward for a high five. The last was a picture of Emma, Regina, Mary and David all grinning with their thumbs up. Emma's face shone with glee, official adoption/name change papers in her hand, her arms thrown around Regina in a tight embrace.

Emma put the frames down and quickly headed downstairs.

Mary made a pot of welcome-home-Emma hot cocoa and placed a pair of mugs on the small breakfast bar that substituted for the large dining room table when the group was small. She sat feeling an overwhelming sense of déjà vu, torn between feeling like a stranger in the house and feeling as though she had never left its bricked walls.

She was shocked by how good it felt to sit in this familiar kitchen, still pondering over the wonder that was her sudden change in feelings about coming home. She took in the curtains that she had helped her mother sew and hang as a Home Economics project when she was seventeen. She smiled, amused that the same pictures hung on the walls, plus an addition or two of the professional shots that Emma used on the back of her books. Looking down at the hardwood flooring she remembered the times would she lay and do yoga, filling her mother in on all of the dramas of being sixteen, seventeen or eighteen.

"You look good mom." Emma noted.

Mary thanked her and told her that she had begun to take a yoga class twice a week. "My doctor recommended it." Her mother gave a small side shrug and grinned.

Emma looked away, knowing full well whom her doctor probably was. "Hmm, I used to love yoga as a teenager, remember? I don't know how the hell I used to do that. Now I can't sit still enough for it. You like it?"

"Mmm, I do. It's very relaxing, though I suppose it is really more like meditation than yoga." Her head tilted to the side just a bit as she contemplated that, pouring their hot cocoa. Then she sat across from her; cup perched in between her fingers under her chin. Her mother then began to stare unabashedly, at her scrutinizing her face. Emma knew she was looking for something that would have some meaning in the language of mom, perhaps things that Emma would not say out loud like possible unhappiness or illness of some kind.

"What?" Emma finally flushed under her eye, feeling like an eleven-year-old caught sneaking a cookie.

"I'm just trying to see if you're happy. You're supposed to be glowing, where's your glow?"

Emma shrugged, "Of course I'm happy. How could I not be? And if I'm not glowing it's because I just got off an airplane! Cut me some slack!"

Mary laughed and sipped her drink still staring. "My little girl is finally home and getting married to boot. I can't believe it!"

Emma just smiled again and sipped her coffee.

"How's Hanna?"

"Good. Fine. She seemed kind of depressed about me leaving, but I get that."

"Mmmm, three months is a long time. And Detective Swan? How is she?"

Emma grinned foolishly. She was proud of many things in her life but none as much as Detective E. Swan, crime fighting and bounty hunter extraordinaire. She had gotten the idea on an especially drab day her freshman year of high school while attending a ride along with her dad. He had been so excited that they had spent three hours by the side of the road discussing the details. She had begun writing the book instantly, never expecting that years - and maybe renditions later - the blonde-haired, blue-eyed detective would become her livelihood. "She's good; she caught the bad guy and solved the murder. Still Small Voice should be on the shelves in two weeks."

"I know," her mother said coyly, "I think the entire town has a preorder in at the bookstore."

Emma flushed, "I thought Hanna was the only one to do that. Last time she pre-ordered one for everyone we knew. Our poor mailman showed up at the house furious with three fifty pound boxes!"

"You don't get them for free?"

"I probably could, but Hanna wants to help sales."

"I like Hanna. I really do." Emma knew it. Hanna had pulled out all of the stops during the two visits Mary had made to New Orleans taking them out for dinner and to see the sights. Mary had been won over by Hanna's charm instantaneously. Her huge apartment and excellent law internship had sure helped too.

"I wish she would bring you back to us though."

"Us?"

"The people who love you."

"Oh. Well, uh, maybe you should come move closer to us, mom. You like New Orleans, right?"

Mary laughed, "I can't move, I was raised here. This is my home - and yours Emma, you know that."

Emma sighed, staring out the window, guilt gnawing at her stomach. She had left so quickly that her mother hadn't gotten the chance to adjust to the idea of her only daughter being so far away. She was lucky her mother wasn't still angry with her. The year before when Hanna had been applying to firms, Emma had spoken briefly of moving to Maine but Hanna had vetoed the possibility before the sentence was out of her mouth. She hadn't wanted to live in Storybrooke of course but perhaps within driving distance.

"Well. Is there anything you would like to do while you're visiting?"

Emma chuckled, "It's not like there's a lot to do in town, Ma."

Mary smiled fondly.

The two spent the next little while catching up, enjoying the glow of their warm comfort with one another until finally her mother asked, "It's getting late. Are you hungry?"

"Sure, mom."

They cooked an easy dinner and then lounged around the table for a bit

"I was thinking," her mother leaned forward as though she was about to give up a huge secret, "that we should go to Any Given Sunday."

"Ice cream?"

"Yes! If you're going to buy your cake in town then that is where you will have to go."

"Wait, what? Ice cream cake? Is that my only option in town?"

Mary rolled her eyes, taking a page out of her daughter's book, "No honey, I told you that Ingrid expanded her business, remember? She took over Storybrooke Country Bread when her mother died."

Emma searched her mind but came up blank. "She did?"

Her mother nodded knowingly, "It's very cute."

"Okay. Let's go."


The space was indeed adorable. Emma had never actually known the owner, Ingrid, but the store had a very boho-chic feel with the ice cream parlor on one side and the deli/bakery on the other. Emma had a feeling she was going to like it the moment she stepped inside, chatting with her other about the wedding plans.

"I feel so overwhelmed!" Emma cried after ordering a double scoop of Rocky Road from the quaint counter stacked with black and white cookies and biscotti's, "There is so much to do! How can I do all of this all in three or four months? I'm thinking that Hanna told me to come so that she didn't have to plan any of this with me!" Emma teased. "I really wish I had been trying harder in New Orleans, perhaps that would have made the process here a little bit easier."

"What about a wedding planner?"

"I dunno know, mom." Emma thought it over. "I brought it up to Hanna once before and she really didn't like the idea."

"Well just remember this is supposed to be fun. This is your wedding you are planning. Don't think of it as something difficult or taxing, enjoy it. It only happens once."

Emma made a face. Her poor small town mother was so innocent in some ways.

"Now. Do you have any ideas of how you would like your wedding to be?"

Emma scoffed, "Um, yeah." The charming wedding of Mary-Margaret Blanchard and David Nolan was Storybrooke legend. Not only had it been the best party that anyone in town could remember but spectators still spoke of the familial and communal love that had flowed through them all that day. "Your wedding to dad. I just, you guys look so happy in all of the pictures - so whole, you know?"

"And you will too, honey. You'll see. What do you need to do first, dear?"

"I need to go see Mr. Ryan so I can put a deposit down on the hall. Once I do that, I can order all of the paper ware. I need to tell Ruby she is my maid of honor so she can start getting ready. I should register wherever we want to and find an officiant in Portland because it kind of creeps Hanna out to have a nun do it, as sweet as Mother Superior is. This is all before I can even send out the invitations. Oh, I also need to make a wedding website."

Her mother nodded cogs turning behind her eyes and Emma could smell trouble, "Ruby will be very pleased to hear she is your maid of honor."

Emma's chest clenched for a second as if she had missed a step on stairs. She knew what that tone foreshadowed: meddling. Mary's horrible habit of sticking her nose where it didn't belong had been one of the things they used to fight about. She had seen the look of surprise on her mother's face a few minutes ago when she named Ruby as maid of honor. She knew where this was going and she didn't want to talk about it. As far as her mother knew she and Regina had simply had a small spat and then grown apart over the years. It had taken a lot to get Mary to accept that vague answer but Emma knew that telling her the truth was inappropriate and pointless; her mother loved Regina.

"Yeah, I'm having dinner with Ruby sometime over the next few days. I'll tell her then. I think she will be pleased, though I am sure she expects it." Emma cursed mentally, she had been trying to avoid the trap but instead she had walked herself right into it.

Her mother gave her a dry stare in answer.

"Mom," Emma began softly not sure what to say or how to say it.

"Emma, how could you and Regina have just drifted apart this much? I don't believe it. Have you called her to tell her you're in town? I think she would want to see you. She asks about you."

"No mom, I – what? She asks about me?"

"Of course she does."

'Oh." Emma began to pick at the napkin between them. "A lot?"

"Sometimes."

"What does she ask?" She wasn't sure if she felt smug or angry.

"Emma." Mary chided.

"No, mom, I don't think it's a good idea. We really shouldn't see one another - really."

"Maybe if you just tried,"

"Mom, I don't want to see her. Sometimes things are better left alone."

"Emma Nolan, you are being childish. How can you say something won't go well without trying?"

"Mom, please I don't want to try." She checked her tone. "I want to not talk about it."

"What if you're wrong?"

"Mom."

"Emma-"

"Seriously?"

Her mother held up her hands in defeat and let it go. "You already know your budget?"

"Yes, Hanna likes things large and expensive, so the budget is decent."

"Good." Mary pursed her lips still sullen over the exchange about Emma's former best friend and Mary's surrogate daughter.

"Mom." Emma groaned her head falling with a smack onto the table, "I'm sorry that Regina and I don't talk anymore. I know you love her and everything, but some things just can't be fixed."

It seemed that Mary had nothing to say in response. She could feel her mother's disapproval. But as far as she could see, there was nothing she could do aside from telling her mother the whole story and she couldn't - wouldn't do that. She couldn't be the one to tell her mother that the Regina Mary loved so dearly had been the first to truly shatter her daughter's heart.

Emma's phone rang and she was happy for the distraction. She put Hanna on speakerphone pleased to see Mary perk up a bit.

"When are you coming into town, sweetie?" Mary asked then returned to nibbling at her food.

"Soon, I promise. Maybe in a month or so. I have to help plan that wedding so we can get started on making those grandbabies for you."

Emma's stomach flopped and she did her best to keep a straight face.

What? Did Hanna just mention children?

Things between she and Hanna had never been easy; they had always been a rambunctious couple that fought a great deal and their number one topic of contention was children. Emma had grown up tossed from one home where she was unwanted to another, never knowing love, never knowing stability. Then she had come to Storybrooke where she had found a warm, loving home. She watched her mother care for all of the children in Storybrooke in class and out, while her father ran the local chapter of the Boy Scouts of America. She wanted a family of her own desperately, one she could give love to and feel their love in return, especially since her father's death. She wanted to adopt. She wanted to carry. She wanted to foster. She wanted to give the tiny unbroken beings of this world a place they could call home.

Emma loved children and though she couldn't explain it, she was sure there was a little girl or boy out there somewhere waiting to be found by her. She even knew what she would name it, Jena if it was a girl and Henry if it were a boy.

She had subtly on occasion and not so subtly on others dropped hints to Hanna about her growing desire. But Hanna always retorted that she still felt like a child herself and couldn't even think of having children yet, if at all. The'if at all' always hung between them after these conversations, poking them uncomfortably in the ribs, an unspoken future complication.

To this day, Emma hadn't been able to decide what she wanted to do about this ominous possibility. She wanted a family. Hell, she needed a family. A big family. She had struggled with herself, packing and unpacking her belongings in secret after these talks until she realized that Hanna was still young, a silly twenty-seven. She was sure that most people didn't want children at that age, even if she had. If she was patient, she was sure Hanna would come around. There was no way that Hanna would decide she did not want one of her own eventually and once that decision was made Emma knew she would be set. Hanna was the type of woman who got what she wanted.

Did this new comment to Emma's mother mean that Hanna was finally coming around? Or did it mean that Hanna was simply schmoozing?

Mary laughed, glowing again. She wanted to be a grandma almost as much as Emma wanted to be a mother.


That night Emma fell into her childhood bed. She was exhausted, but her brain was stuck in hyper drive going over again and again the long list of things she needed to do and when she needed to have them done by.

She glanced at the clock chewing her cheek; it wasn't quite as late in New Orleans since they were an hour behind Maine. Perhaps Hanna's would still be burning the midnight oil for work.

Hanna's groggy voice told her immediately that she hadn't been. "I'm sorry, should I call back tomorrow?"

"No, it's okay. What's up? Are you all right?"

"I'm okay. I'm getting settled into bed and it's lonely."

"Awe."

"I mean, I've slept by myself since we moved in together, of course, but only on those nights where you were gone. It's never been me who was not home." Emma squeezed her eyes shut, silently swearing. She hadn't meant it to sound like that, crap, crap, crap. She didn't mean to dredge up the past. She knew they had made an agreement to never again discuss those nights when Hanna would disappear to a bar with friends only to show up the next morning to find Emma on the couch or fully dressed in their bed, having fallen asleep worrying about her.

Hanna was silent for a long while.

"I'm sorry, that was meant to be sweet. Clearly I'm an idiot. Please don't get mad."

Hanna grunted but moved on, "Well it's only day one so of course you're a little lonely. You need to adjust to being by yourself."

Emma thought of all the nights she had spent in New Orleans alone waiting for Hanna and wondered if that was really true.

"Tell me about the rest of your day."

Emma spent a few minutes going over her relatively uneventful day then listened as Hanna went over hers.

"Are you happy to be back yet?"

"I think so." Emma could hear the uncertainty in her own slightly shaky voice.

"What's wrong?"

She cuddled deeper into the blankets trying to think of the best way to describe what she was feeling. "I feel like an ass here. I've felt like it all day. I left so quickly. At the time, I wasn't thinking about what that would do to my mom. I just thought that I had to get away."

"Don't feel guilty. You did what you felt you needed to."

Emma just grunted noncommittally and changed the subject, "You sound tired. Should I let you get back to sleep?"

"Yeah, maybe. I'm sorry, I spent three hours at the gym today, so I'm tired."

"Wow, three hours. Why so much?"

"Why not? I spent two hours working out and then an hour in the sauna with Janelle."

"Oh. Okay," Emma said in the same fake chipper tone, caught off guard, she didn't know what else to say. "Will you text me tomorrow?"

"Sure babe. Love you. Bye."

Emma sighed, plugging in her phone and rolling over onto her pillow still frowning. Janelle was a new friend of Hanna's. They had met at the gym and both having heavy interests in Crossfit they quickly became workout buddies. Emma liked Janelle enough though she didn't know her well, but the thought of Hanna and Janelle lounging together in a sauna, more than likely naked made Emma's skin chafe. They, as a couple, had always purposefully had a no sauna rule.

She stretched and tried to shake the thoughts out. She would let it go, and if it came up again she could talk to her about it - if she still felt she needed to.