Title: A Kind of Comfort in You (2/4)
Fandom: Once Upon a Time
Pairing: Swan Queen (Emma Swan/Regina Mills)
Spoilers/Warning: None. Tooth-rotting, tummy hurting fluff!
Summary: AU-ish Storybrooke. Let's pretend there is no curse, no magic, and Regina is just a mayor and Emma is just a sheriff. This is a SQ baby fic, but it is not your typical SQ baby fic. But maybe I'm deluding myself and it is. (After all a baby fic is a baby fic is a baby fic). You'll have to decide yourself.
Disclaimer: This is purely fictional. I own none of it.
[...]
A/N: There you go, an update!
I know there isn't much SQ romance here yet, but this fic is more about the slow progression of a relationship between them. Don't expect anything to be rushed. But if you stick it out with me, I promise I'm going to make it up to you in the end.
Thank you for your reviews and faves and follows. I hope you like this update as much (or more, I wouldn't mind). Your thoughts and opinions are welcome, as always.
IV.
"Hey, Rubes!" Emma greeted Ruby as she placed the carry-cot on the counter.
"Hey!" Ruby smiled broadly. "How're my favorite girls?" She bent over the carry-cot to look at Allison. "Aw, she's napping!" Ruby pouted.
"If you were me, you'd thank heavens she was catching some shut-eye," Emma said, but she smiled as she smoothed the blanket around her daughter's slumbering form.
"Rough night?" Ruby asked sympathetically.
Emma nodded. "I think she might be teething. I didn't expect her to till next month but Dr. Whale said some babies are a little precocious."
Ruby shook her head. "Mama woes."
"She was irritated all last night," Emma sighed. "She's been like that for the past few days."
"Aw, poor thing!" Ruby said. "If I can do anything to help, you just let me know, all right? Do you need me at the station tonight?"
"Oh, will you come in, please?" Emma said. "I will eternally love you!"
"Flattery will get you everything!" Ruby laughed. "All right. Just text me the patrol routes for tonight and stuff."
"Coming right up," Emma reached into her pocket and cursed under her breath when she couldn't find her phone. "I think I left it at home! No, wait! I handed it to Mary Margaret when I went to pick Al up from her apartment."
"Well, there she is," Ruby pointed outside the glass front towards the road where Mary Margaret could be seen pushing a stroller on the pavement. "Go ask her."
"Yeah, thanks, Rubes," Emma said, turning on her heels. "Watch Al for me, okay?"
"No problem," Ruby said but Emma was already rushing out, almost bumping into the Mayor as she entered the diner.
"Oh, don't mind me," Regina said. "I'll just flatten myself to the wall."
"Sorry," Emma raised her hands in a peace offering. "Kind of in a rush here."
"I can see that," Regina huffed and turned away, walking towards the counter. Emma grimaced and continued on her way out.
"Mary Margaret!" She called out when she spotted the schoolteacher about to turn the corner, causing her to pause in her tracks and turn around.
"Emma!" she exclaimed when she saw the Sheriff and hurriedly made her way towards the diner. "I was looking for you!"
"You were?" Emma said, a little breathless from all the rushing.
"Yes, you left your phone with me."
"Oh, thank you! Thank you for bringing it!" Emma took her phone from the other woman. "I was afraid I was gonna have to run all the way back to your place."
"Well, it's the least I can do for our fearless Sheriff," Mary Margaret laughed. "I know you have your hands full with Allison right now, she's been very irritated this past week. And I thought I'd take Leo for a spin in his stroller."
"You are a life-saver, Mary Margaret, have I told you that recently? I would marry you if David would only let me!"
Mary Margaret laughed again. "You'll have to get in line behind all the others, I'm afraid."
"Are you sure you won't change your views on bigamy?" Emma said and the other woman shook her head. "At least bump me to the front of the queue!" Emma whined.
"You know what David would say?" Mary Margaret said. "Get your own stupid wife!" she went on in an exaggerated imitation of her husband's voice.
Emma chortled as she bent over the stroller to look inside. "I do need a wife, don't I? With all my — hey, Leo! Hey, baby boy! What's up?" she cooed and snapped her fingers at the baby. "How's the little tyke holding up?"
Mary Margaret took a deep breath. "He's being a perfect angel and I don't know if I should worry or be thankful!"
Emma tickled the dark haired, blue-eyed baby boy under the chin and was awarded with a gurgle and an angelic smile. "Yeah, you should probably worry — aw, look who's being an angel today! Do you have something wicked planned? Do you? Look at you!"
Mary Margaret shuddered. "Don't give him ideas!"
"I don't think he even knows what I'm saying," Emma laughed and baby Leo gurgled in response.
"Sometimes I think he does. David calls him Little Spawn. It makes me shudder when I think about the things he might do at daycare," Mary Margaret went on with a sigh. "I'm thinking of quitting my job altogether."
Emma frowned. "Well, that's up to you, but I think he and Al would do fine at the daycare."
"Al is an angel compared to him!" Mary Margaret said. "He is not an easy baby to handle."
"He'll be fine," Emma patted her arm. "You worry too much. And it's just for a few hours in the morning while you take your classes. You can't sit at home all the time."
Mary Margaret nodded resignedly.
"Look, Leo can be a little fussy at times but he's okay. Aren't you?" She tickled the boy and he gurgled, kicking his bootied feet. "Well, I should get back inside. Ruby is watching Allison and—" Emma was distracted from completion of this sentence by the sight that met her eyes through the diner's large glass window: Regina's head was bent over Allison's carry-cot; the Mayor was making ridiculous faces and smiling. Ruby was nowhere in sight.
"Is that the Mayor? Bending over Allison?" Mary Margaret asked, arching her neck to look inside the diner.
"Looks like it," Emma shrugged, breaking her stare. "I haven't really had a lot of interaction with her since Al was born."
"That was some day!" Mary Margaret said with a shudder.
"Yeah, it was," Emma agreed. "I'm still not used to my new offi — oh, my God!" Emma watched in horror as Allison's tiny hands, both of them, grabbed fistfuls of Regina's hair and pulled her face down. "Shit," she swore under her breath.
"Well, that can't be good," said the school teacher.
"Mary Margaret, thanks for bringing me my phone, I'll see you later, okay?"
Emma almost ran back inside, cringing inwardly at the expectation of Regina's wrath but instead she found the Mayor laughing, followed immediately by the burbling laugh of her daughter. Emma suddenly felt like crying; it had been a few days since she'd heard that sound. She stilled herself and took the last few steps to the counter at a slower pace, taking in the scene in front of her.
Regina's face was still bent close to the carry-cot, chubby, little fingers of a small hand still tangled in her hair. The fingers of the other little hand were wrapped tightly around Regina's forefinger, making it move to and fro in erratic motions and — judging by the gurgling, laughing sounds emanating from inside — finding it entirely too amusing. Regina was cooing right back at the little girl; it sounded almost like a conversation. She smiled when she saw Emma but did not move from her position.
"She likes you," Emma said, smiling back.
"Well, of course she does. Who wouldn't?"
Emma rolled her eyes. "Sorry about that," she pointed to the little hand grabbing at Regina's hair. "Here, let me…"
"No, that's all right," Regina stopped her. "She isn't really pulling at it, she's just holding it."
"That is not fair, Allison," Emma bent over the carry-cot, addressing her daughter. "Am I the only one who gets her hair pulled mercilessly?" The baby just gurgled happily in response.
"I'll take that as a yes," Regina said, straightening up as Allison's grip loosened on her hair.
"Yeah, well. Since yours was the first face she saw when she was born, I think she's playing favorites." Regina just smiled, tickling the baby under her chin. "I should thank you," Emma said. "It's the happiest she's been in days."
"Why?" Regina frowned, looking up from the baby. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," Emma said. "She's teething, I guess. It makes her very irritable."
"Oh," Regina made a sympathetic sound at Allison and the baby laughed.
"How are you doing that?"
Regina laughed. "Experience, dear," she said but then she saw the distressed expression on the Sheriff's face. "Don't worry, it'll come to you."
"Well, can't it come, like, now? She hadn't laughed in days and I missed it!"
"Don't be too hard on yourself," Regina patted her arm awkwardly. "I'm sure you're doing fine. All babies get a little fussy when they're teething. Have you tried giving her teething rings?"
Emma shook her head.
"Get some of those, give them to her to chew. It will help relieve a bit of pressure on her gums."
"Right," Emma nodded. "Teething rings. Check."
"And, here, see," Regina bent over the cot, tickled Allison's chin to make her open her mouth and then gently rubbed the baby's gums with one finger. "Doing this once or twice a day for a couple of minutes will also soothe her. And before you ask, I just washed my hands."
"Thank you for that," Emma said. "Does that really help?"
"Yes, you'll see for yourself when you do it. Henry refused to eat or drink for days when he was teething, I practically had to force feed him."
"Oh, no, she is still eating like a champ."
"You go, baby girl!" Regina smoothed down the soft, golden hair.
Ruby came over from the kitchen holding a small cardboard box. "Look at you guys being a little family!" she almost cooed at the sight of the Mayor and the Sheriff both bent over the little girl and talking earnestly to each other. "Only Henry's missing!" Regina sent a murderous look her way and the waitress smiled broadly in response. "Here's your sandwich to go, Madam Mayor."
"Thank you, Miss Lucas — or are you still the Deputy?"
"Well, I'm covering tonight's shift for Emma."
"I plan on staying with Allison tonight," Emma said.
Regina nodded. "Well, let me know if anything untoward happens." She picked up her sandwich, tickled Allison one last time, tossed Emma a "See you tomorrow, Sheriff" and left.
"Well, that was weird," Ruby said.
"Not really," said Emma as she smiled at her daughter's much happier face. "Not weird at all."
...
V.
"And I think you can do without this little gallery at the back," Regina was saying. "It'll give you a that much spacier storeroom, you can extend the filing cabinets."
Emma nodded and slumped a little in her seat across the desk.
"I've also ordered the software and hard drives you will need to computerize as much data that has been salvaged as you can. The company has promised to send a tech expert to—"
She was interrupted by a long sigh and a glance — what seemed to be the hundredth time — at the phone.
"Am I boring you, Sheriff?" Regina snapped.
"Huh? No, Madam Mayor, not at all."
"You keep looking at your phone."
"Just checking the time," Emma mumbled, pushing the phone away. "Please carry on."
Regina suppressed a sigh. "Where's Allison?"
"Mary Margaret's babysitting for me. Please go on, we need to get this done today."
"Yes," Regina agreed. "Where was I?"
"Computerization," Emma supplied.
"Yes. They will be sending tech support to help you with it. Also, you'll be pleased to know that I've made adjustments in the budget so that it will be possible if you want to hire Miss Lucas as a Deputy fulltime — Sheriff Swan!"
"I'm listening, Regina. And no, Ruby doesn't want to be fulltime Deputy. She wants to be able to help her grandmother at the diner." Regina opened her mouth to speak but Emma over-rode her. "And before you suggest I hire someone else, I am perfectly happy with Ruby working halftime. It's a fine arrangement."
"No, I just wanted to ask — why are you so distracted? Is something the matter?"
Emma let out a breath. "No. I don't know. I'm just a little restless today."
"Why don't you call her up, put your mind at rest?"
"Ruby?" Emma frowned.
Regina rolled her eyes in that particular way of hers. "Miss Blanchard."
"Oh," understanding dawned on Emma. "No, I'm okay. I think I'll survive a bit longer." She tried to smile. "We'll be done soon, won't we?"
"We've barely even begun," Regina said, causing Emma to let out a long, cold sigh.
"I can't see why I need the whole building to be rebuilt," she whined. "I just got a new office and it's perfectly fine."
Regina suppressed a shudder. "I do not like that crude cubicle you are determined to keep as your office. I always thought it was understood that it was a temporary solution until such time as substantial funding was available to rebuild the Sheriff's station."
"But—"
"The building destroyed in that unfortunate explosion was a beautiful and historical piece of Storybrooke—"
"—and old, Regina. Remember it was very old."
"But beautiful, nevertheless. I do not want a building just for the sake of a building, Sheriff. And frankly, no building at all would be better than that eyesore of a thing you want to keep as your office."
"Whatever you say, Madam Mayor," Emma said, out of further reasons and defeated.
"Call Miss Blanchard."
Emma shook her head, pushing the phone further away from herself. "Nah, I'm good. Let's get this over with."
…
Barely fifteen minutes had passed when Emma's phone began to ring. Regina paused in her speech about pillars to let Emma answer it. Emma just shook her head.
"Carry on."
"You can attend it."
"No, I'll just call whoever it is later."
"It's Miss Blanchard," Regina said, glancing at the blinking screen.
Emma snatched up the phone so quickly she almost hit the reject button. "She's not supposed to call me unless—" She left the sentence incomplete as she pressed the phone close to her ear. "Mary Margaret? Is everything—?"
The schoolteacher almost wailed from the other end of the line. "Emma, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry!"
"What happened?" Emma was on her feet in an instant.
"I left them alone for a second! A second, I swear!" She was interrupted by loud wails of children crying in the background.
Emma felt her heart stop for a moment. "Mary Margaret! What's wrong?" She almost shouted.
"I have no idea!" The schoolteacher gulped. "They must've had a fight — you know how Leo can get. He just — oh, God. I'm so sorry, I didn't know he would have one of his tantrums. And now they both won't stop crying, and I can't hold them both at the same time because that makes them cry even more! Usually David helps but he's at the shelter and I don't know what to do!" She sounded like she was about to cry herself.
"I'm coming, okay?" Emma told the woman at the other end of the line and then she rushed out of the Mayor's office so fast, she didn't even bother to pick up her jacket from where it lay on the back of a chair, or to tell Regina anything. She just ran out the doors.
That day she broke every signal, every speed limit that Storybrooke had, that she was sworn to enforce to reach Mary Margaret's apartment to pick up her daughter amidst the other woman's continued apologies.
And that day Emma learned that the hardest thing in the world was when your baby girl was crying hard enough to turn herself breathless, holding you hard enough to choke you and still you could do nothing to make her feel better except hold her and rock her and say meaningless soothing things none of which seemed to have any effect. Emma felt like sitting down on the pavement and bawling herself. So she held Allison tightly to her and drove back one handed to Regina's office. It was dangerous, she knew, driving like this. She also had no earthly idea why she was going there instead of going home, but she did it nevertheless.
She found Regina sitting in exactly the same position in which she had left her earlier, the same file open on the same page in front of her. She took one look as Emma barged into her office and immediately stood up.
"Is she all right?"
"I don't know," Emma said. "She seems okay, physically. I think she's just spooked." She looked at Regina with big, worried eyes. "She won't stop crying!"
"Just hold her — yes, against your heart like that. It helps. And rock her gently. Gently. Let her cry it out." She walked around her desk towards the two of them. "What happened?"
"We're not really sure. Mary Margaret put them down to play, she left them alone for less than a minute and they had a fight over some toy. Leo had a temper tantrum. He scratched at her. And now they both won't stop crying."
Regina let out a sympathetic tch.
Emma looked at her daughter, the silence in the room punctuated by the little girl's loud sobs and unintelligible baby talk in between. And then, in an interval between the deep, sobbing breath and the heart wrenching wail that followed, she very clearly uttered one word: Mama.
Emma's face crumpled as her ears registered her daughter's first proper word. Abruptly, she turned away from Regina and towards the window, rocking Allison gently even as her own shoulders heaved up and down.
Regina sighed. "Sheriff Swan!" Emma did not look back and the Mayor walked the few steps that were needed to stand beside her and softly say, "Emma. That's no way."
"I know, sorry," Emma said, wiping her eyes with a finger. "But she said Mama. Regina, my baby said Mama!"
"Yes, dear, I heard. Now you need to get a grip on yourself."
Emma nodded. Regina motioned for her to turn Allison's tear-streaked face towards her. The little girl, most of her energy almost spent, was now just sobbing quietly, her chest heaving with every breath and hiccup.
"Hey, baby girl," Regina snapped her fingers, making huge blue-green eyes turn towards her. "I have something for you! But no more crying, promise?" She tucked soft, golden curls behind a tiny ear and hissed when she saw dozens of tiny scratches on Allison's cheek.
"Sheriff Swan, tell Miss Blanchard she really needs to control her son!"
Emma's eyes widened when she saw Allison's cheek. "Oh, my baby!" she said, voice threatening to shake again as she planted dozens of soft kisses on her daughter's cheek, careful to stay away from the scratches. The little girl whimpered.
Regina shook her head. "I'll get the first aid kid — and some of Henry's old toys. I have some from when I used to bring him to the office with me."
"All right," Emma said, rubbing Allison's back softly.
…
Regina was back quickly, holding a red and green stuffed giraffe with long, floppy ears in one hand and the first aid kit in the other.
"Here, Allison, look what I got for you!" She waved the giraffe in front of the little girl; huge, tear-filled eyes followed the movement. Regina tickled Allison with the tip of the giraffe's nose and the girl gave a watery laugh, lunging for the toy. Regina handed it to her and smiled as the little girl waved it over her head, looking much happier than before.
"To the couch, Sheriff," Regina nodded in that direction and both women made their way towards the couch. Emma sat down, Allison in her lap diligently pulling one of the giraffe's ears and watching with fascination the way the head vibrated when she let it go.
"Try and hold her steady, all right?" said Regina as she took out some antiseptic wipes.
Emma nodded and held Allison's hair back from her face. Regina bent closer and began to clean the scratches. Acrid smell of the antiseptic, mixed with the light fragrance of Regina's shampoo wafted up to Emma's nose. Allison fought to get away from the stinging wipes but Regina was rather adept at this. In no time at all, the scratches had been cleaned and colorful band aids applied over the bigger ones. When Regina settled back, Allison looked at her accusingly and then bomped the giraffe's head squarely on Regina's nose in retaliation. Both women laughed.
"That's my girl," Regina told her. "You don't let anyone walk over you, okay?"
Emma just smiled and shook her head, and then Regina wiped the ruddy little cheeks and nose (some fight was put up at this), ran her fingers through the blond curls to comb them into place and sat back to admire her handiwork.
"There you go," she said, smiling.
"Thank you," Emma said, watching as her daughter squeezed the giraffe's neck with both hands and happily banged it against her jean-clad knee. "For everything."
"It was nothing," Regina waved it away. "Anyone would have done the same." She smoothed an errant curl on top of the little head, not looking up. "You can bring her here for when we have our meetings. I have some of Henry's old toys squared away in a drawer. She can play with them and — you can keep an eye on her."
"All right," Emma said, and only then did Regina look up, a soft smile on her face. Emma rested her chin lightly on top of her daughter's head. "Hey," she said. "Sorry about all that rushing away without explanations earlier. I just kinda panicked…"
"It's understandable," Regina said. "I believe I would've done the same thing if it had been Henry. Though, admittedly," she continued with a smile in her voice. "If you had allowed yourself to say a couple of sentences before rushing out, I would've been much less worried."
"You were worried?" Emma asked, wonder in her voice.
"Of course I was worried. What kind of heartless cretin do you take me for?"
"The mayoral kind?" Emma smiled. "Sorry."
"No harm done," Regina patted Emma's hand. The act was obviously involuntary because for a surprised moment both women looked down at it, Regina's hand covering Emma's, before Regina snatched it away. "Oh, she's asleep," Regina nodded at Allison. "You should head home."
"Yeah," Emma said, looking at the giraffe that Allison had clutched tightly to her chest. "I'll bring back the toy—"
"No need for that," Regina said.
Emma smiled as she stood up, carefully adjusting the sleeping girl in her arms so as not to wake her. Regina got up, too, and handed Emma her jacket.
"Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow. For the Sheriff's office thingy."
"Of course," Regina said. "Goodbye, Sheriff."
Emma waved her hand from around Allison's sleeping form before exiting the office.
…
It was later in the evening as Regina walked into the diner with Henry for his weekly burger, fries and milkshake dinner that she found Emma sitting at a booth, Allison in the middle of the table (sporting Lion King band aids now) and Mary Margaret sitting opposite her, her son in her lap. This seemed too perfect an opportunity to waste, and she contemplated walking up to the table and giving the schoolteacher a piece of her mind — the safety and wellbeing of the citizens of Storybrooke was her responsibility, after all — but Henry beat her to the table.
He took one look at Emma and Allison and his face lit up; he took a step forward, hesitated, looked to his mother for permission, and rushed forward like an arrow when Regina nodded.
"Hey guys," he greeted everyone before picking up Allison from the table. "Hey, Little Bird! Oh, is that my old giraffe? Where did you get that?" He smiled at Mary Margaret. "Good evening, Miss Blanchard. Hey, Leo! What have you been up to today?"
"Oh, he has been especially bad today," said Mary Margaret with a sigh as she pointed at Allison's cheek.
"Oh, no," Henry looked at the band aids and then stared at the little boy reproachfully; he happily gurgled in response. "Listen, man, I won't stand for this type of behavior where my sister is concerned, you understand?" He was awarded with a happy laugh and sighed as he put his lips against Allison's head. "It'll be okay, Little Bird."
Regina watched the family scene unfold, feeling a little twinge in her heart. But then something happened which she hadn't really counted on and which was amazing: Allison looked right at Regina and sent the most beautiful smile her way, waving the giraffe to greet the Mayor. Henry looked over his shoulder to see who his sister was smiling at and, finding Regina at the other end, smiled and waved her over. Regina hesitated before walking over to the little group.
"Hey," Emma said, smiling widely.
Regina smiled at her perfunctorily before turning the focus of her attention towards Mary Margaret who looked alarmed at this sudden change in direction.
"Miss Blanchard," Regina said and Mary Margaret, true to her name, blanched.
"Regina," Emma began but was silenced by a single warning look. Also, Henry was shaking his head furiously from over Regina's shoulder, telling her not to interrupt.
"Miss Blanchard," Regina began again, her tone icy and precise. "I suggest you strongly think about cutting your son's fingernails if you don't want him to scratch out his own eyes!"
"I'm sorry!" Mary Margaret said, exasperation evident in her voice. "I have given birth to a caveman!"
"Quite," Regina agreed. "None of us would want a repeat of today's performance. Because this young man—" And here she made the mistake of glancing at the said 'young man' and was thus awarded with a four-toothed smile, huge, baby blue eyes twinkling — and that's when Regina faltered. "This — this—" she sighed. "Just cut his nails, Miss Blanchard."
Emma laughed. "Hard to say no to that face, eh?"
"How can he look like that and do such a thing!" Regina shook her head.
"Children will be children," Emma said sagely, and it made Regina smile.
"Said the voice of wisdom," she said.
"Yes," Emma agreed graciously. "Why don't you two join us for dinner?"
This made both Regina and Mary Margaret look sharply at Emma, their expressions surprised and horrified respectively. Before Regina could respond, though, Henry spoke up.
"Oh, Mom, can we, please?"
Regina conceded with a sigh. "All right." And looked at Mary Margret's panicked face. "Don't worry, Miss Blanchard. I won't bite. Not you, at least."
"Yes, Regina," said Emma, moving over to make space for the Mayor to sit beside her. "We all know what kind of a monster you are. Come on."
"I suppose you do," Regina sat down. "Henry, be a dear and order for both of us?"
"Just tell Ruby to add it to our order," Emma said as she took Allison from him. She watched him walk up to the counter, all puffed up, to talk to Ruby. "Becoming quite the responsible kid, isn't he?" she said with not a little pride.
Regina smiled. "I think he just likes talking to Ruby."
"Oh. Oh, no! That's my little boy you're talking about, Regina!"
"Oh, you don't have to worry!" Regina said, her voice amused. "I haven't raised him to be a hooligan. He's a good boy. Just yesterday he was telling me how adept he has become at helping you with Allison's bottle and diapers."
"Oh, he is very helpful when he's around," Mary Margaret piped up. "With Allison and Leo both."
"Hm," said Regina thoughtfully, an idea forming in her mind. "Sheriff, would you be willing to let Henry babysit Allison? Only on the days I am at home to watch over the two of them, of course," she added when Emma frowned.
"I think that's a very good idea," Mary Margaret said before Emma could say anything. "It will teach him to be responsible, his first real job. And he can spend more time with his sister. And I'm not saying this because of what happened between Allison and Leo today — although, that is also a reason you should do this, Emma. I am so sorry."
Emma squeezed her best friend's hand to let her know it was all right. "These things happen, Mary Margaret."
"They shouldn't! I feel terrible, and I really don't want anything like that to happen again."
"She has a very good point," Regina said. "And I will keep an eye on both of them."
"All right," Emma conceded. "If Henry agrees—"
"Agree to what?" said Henry as he slipped in beside Mary Margaret.
"Henry, Sheriff Swan has a job for you, and she tells me she is ready to pay handsomely. Would you like to take it?"
"It isn't mowing lawns, is it?"
"No," said Emma. "It isn't mowing lawns. How would you like to babysit Allison a few days a week?"
"Oh," he said, thinking. "Can I?" he asked Regina.
"Only on the days when I am at home so that I can watch over the two of you, of course," she said.
"Okay," he smiled.
"Do we have an understanding, then, Mr. Mills?" Emma asked in her official voice.
"Yes, we do, Sheriff," he nodded, all serious. "It's a deal."
They shook hands.
"That's settled then," Regina said, pleased.
"It still leaves me with the days when you'll be working late," Emma said.
"I can come over to Miss Blanchard's to help," Henry said.
"That would be perfect," Mary Margaret said.
"Problem solved," Regina smiled widely and almost clapped her hands. "Let's eat now."
David joined them in a while, pulling up a chair to sit beside Mary Margaret, taking Leo in his lap, tickling him and calling him Little Spawn, and making the whole group laugh. And, Regina thought as she fed Allison a bit of her sandwich, it actually felt pretty nice, this whole family thing.
...
VI.
Henry entered 95 Mifflin Street's kitchen from the back door and found Allison sitting in her high chair, happily banging a bright orange spoon in a green bowl, and Emma poring over a small piece of paper in her hand.
"Hen-Hen!" Allison greeted him and Emma looked up and smiled.
"Hey, kid! What's up?"
"Hey — what are you doing?"
"I," Emma dramatically waved the piece of paper, "am making noodles!"
Henry raised his eyebrows at the mess of pots and pans scattered all around the kitchen. "You need a recipe for that?"
"Kid, I need a recipe for everything. Mary Margaret writes them for me. Martha Stewart I am not."
"It's just noodles," he said. "I can make noodles."
"Yeah, well," Emma said, stirring the pot on the stove and squinting at the recipe. "Have I recently told you how you're a superkid and somehow, possibly, from somewhere outside this planet? Maybe another world?"
Henry laughed. "Yes, and you're the exiled princess and my mom is the misunderstood queen. You should really watch yourself around her apples."
"Her app — wh — wasn't that Snow White, though?" Henry shrugged. "Right," Emma said. "Okay, so here's the thing." She looked some more at the paper before sighing. "Al's been at this paper, and I can't figure out if this says '3 cups of water' or '5 cups of water'. And I put in three but … I dunno." She handed Henry the paper; he squinted at it.
"It's definitely three. You're good."
"Whew!" Emma let out a relieved breath. "Stay and let me feed you my incompetent noodles which are actually not bad." Henry raised skeptical eyebrows in a style very like Regina's. "Allison loves them!" Emma said defensively.
"Allison also loves rice pudding and mashed bananas."
"Nana," Allison agreed.
"Touché," Emma said. "No nana, baby, I'm making you noodles, and your brother is going to eat them, too!"
Henry sighed and settled down across from Allison who looked at him with a big smile and said, "Hen-Hen!"
"When will she call me Henry?" He pouted.
"Be patient. She hasn't gotten around to her 'r's yet," Emma said, stirring the spoon in the pot and frowning at it in concentration.
"You need to step up, buddy," he told Allison.
"Up," she repeated, followed by a lot of baby talk and spoon banging and a winning smile.
"My baby is doing just fine, thank you!" Emma smacked him lightly on the head, eliciting an 'Ow!' and a laugh from Allison who apparently found her brother's suffering quite amusing. "Oh, by the way, I've put this week's money under the jar."
"Sweet!" he said and earned a look. "Also, it's an urn."
"Oh, whatever," Emma rolled her eyes. "I can see you are Regina's son through and through!"
"Of course," he smirked in a Regina-esque manner.
"Hey, you want juice with your noodles, or do you want me to make you a milkshake or something?"
Henry looks at her with wide, skeptical eyes. "You've met my mother, right? The Mayor? Who allows me only one artificially sweetened milkshake a week?"
"We won't tell her," Emma whispered.
Henry shook his head. "She will know."
"You were raised by a tyrant," said Emma gravely.
Henry laughed. "Say that to her face."
"I will! In the next council meeting!"
"Ha! We'll see," he said, counting the money. "Hey, you've given me extra! Is this a bonus for all my great work?"
"What?" Emma frowned. "No, I gave you the exact amount for the past week."
"No, I wasn't even home for three of those days."
"What? Why? Where were you?"
"I got selected for the Little League Team. Didn't Mom tell you?"
"No. No she didn't," Emma frowned at him. "So you haven't been home?"
"No, they have practice three times a week."
"So — Allison was with—"
"—my Mom."
"You mean the Mayor's been babysitting my daughter all this time?"
"It was only three days," he said, wounded.
"Why didn't she tell me about your team?" Emma said, placing a bowl of steaming noodles in front of him.
"Maybe she — forgot?" he suggested as he picked up his fork and sniffed at his bowl.
"Right," Emma gave him a look. "Stop sniffing, they smell all right!"
Henry's expression was still full of trepidation as he took in the first forkful.
"Mama!" Allison let out a protesting sound watching her brother eat while she wasn't, and banged her spoon into the bowl impatiently.
"Give me a minute to cool them down, baby, they're hot."
"Haww."
"Yup. Hot." Emma sat down in a chair beside Allison, and began blowing on small spoonfuls and feeding her in classic airplane motions, trying to save the spoon from her grabbing hands.
"Your mother," she told Henry as she wiped Allison's face with a napkin between mouthfuls, "is one of the weirdest people I've ever known. Why wouldn't she tell me?"
"She likes Al," Henry said around a mouthful of noodles.
"Yes, but it's not like she has a ton of free time. And will you swallow before you try to talk again?"
Henry swallowed pointedly before speaking. "I don't think it bothers her, babysitting Al."
"It's not about being bothered, it's—" Emma sighed exasperatedly. "I'll talk to her."
Henry shrugged.
"So how's baseball?"
"It's nice!" he enthused. "You should come to the practice someday! You and Al and Mom. We could have a picnic afterwards!"
"Sure, we could do that," Emma smiled at his enthusiasm. "When do your actual games start?"
"Mid-August. You'll come, right?"
"Wouldn't dream of doing anything else," she ruffled his hair and he beamed at her. "I'll come to all of them if I can."
Henry smiled at her. "You know," he said. "These aren't really bad, your noodles."
It was Emma's turn to beam with pride.
...
The next afternoon brought a frenzied 911 from Miss Ginger's neighborhood; it wasn't about the cat, surprisingly, but about a very drunk Leroy (currently trying to make Miss Ginger tap-dance — as the 911 had said — which would really be a feat: the woman was in a wheelchair 80% of the time and possessed a lethal, dangerously curved walking stick. Truth be told, she was more worried about Leroy than Miss Ginger!). Reluctantly, Emma gathered Allison's stuff to leave her with Henry earlier than they had agreed upon, making a short stop over at the Mills' residence to drop her off.
She parked the cruiser, picked up her half-sleepy daughter from the baby carrier, hefted the baby bag on her shoulder and began to walk with brisk steps towards the front door of 108 Mifflin Street. The door opened before she could climb up the short steps at the front and Regina stepped out in casual, dark slacks and a loosely fitting grey shirt.
"Hey," Emma greeted her. "I'm getting really late. Where's Henry?"
Regina took the bag from her and pushed it up on her own shoulder. "He's … out."
"Out where?"
"He'll be back soon," Regina said, reaching for Allison who held out her arms to be picked up.
Emma faltered mid-exchange. "Really, Regina?" She gave the Mayor a hard look.
Regina sighed. "Fine. He told you. He's at baseball practice. He'll be there all evening. But you don't have to worry, I'm just as capable of taking care of Allison—"
"Regina," Emma let out an exasperated breath. "I never said you weren't capable of taking care of her."
"Then what is the issue here, Sheriff?"
"You're a busy woman. You're the Mayor! You have a billion things to do. I cannot ask you to babysit my daughter."
"We're doing perfectly fine, thank you. None of my 'billion' duties are interfering with my babysitting your little girl."
"You don't have to," Emma said. "I'll find a sitter through the daycare."
"Sheriff Swan, you will not!" Regina exploded. "It is bad enough that she has to spend her mornings in that — abominable place, surrounded by strangers. I will not have you spend her evenings with mediocre and inadequate strangers who may or may not revile her with their cigarette breaths and greasy, sweaty, unwashed hands and dirty feet and whatnot!"
Emma could not help the incredulous chuckle that escaped her at this graphic description of babysitters. "Regina, I'm sure they're not—"
"You can never be sure with them!"
"I think—"
"I'm a good mother, Sheriff. Isn't your son proof enough for you? And now, all of a sudden, I'm not good enough to take care of your daughter!"
"Regina!" Emma gasped. "I never — I didn't—"
"Didn't you?" Regina bore down on her, Allison settled securely on her hip. "Did you see any sign of my inadequacy? Every evening you pick her up, neat, clean, well-fed, well-rested, happy. Can you guarantee a sitter would do that?"
"Regina! I never said you weren't a good mom! You're a great mom!"
"I'm glad we are on the same page here, Sheriff. What is the problem, then?"
"It's just that I think with Henry, and running the town, you have your hands full. I don't want this to be a burden on you—"
"She is not a burden!" Regina snapped at her.
"I know she's not! Would you stop twisting my words?"
"Would you stop saying idiotic things?"
"I'm just—"
"You're just creating problems where there aren't any."
"I'm only—"
"I think we're done here, Sheriff."
"I don't—"
"I hope this won't be an issue any longer, don't you agree?"
"But—"
"Now, I believe, you're running very late. There are places you have to be, am I right?"
"I—"
"Say bye bye to your Mama, Allison, she is now going to go and catch some big, bad guys."
Emma watched as her daughter lay a sleepy head on Regina's shoulder, one fist bunching up the Mayor's shirt, and raised the other to wave before putting a thumb in her mouth.
"I — er. Okay," Emma said weakly, totally stumped. "All right. And yes, I am getting very late."
She stepped forward and gently took Allison's thumb out of her mouth. "Don't let her do that. I'd rather not spend a fortune on taking her to an Orthodontist once she's older." Regina nodded once, tersely, and Emma kissed the back of the little hand and tucked it gently into the side. "Bye bye, baby," she bent over the baby cheek, inhaling the combined scent of her daughter's buttery, baby powder smell and Regina's faint fruity perfume, and planted a kiss on Allison's cheek, her eyes rising up to meet dark brown ones just inches away. "Thanks, Regina."
"You're welcome," Regina said stiffly, still trying to act offended.
Emma smiled to herself before straightening, leaning forward and brushing her lips lightly against the Mayor's cheek before turning around and hurrying to her car, leaving a very stunned Regina behind her.
...
A/N: Well, I love that last scene for so many reasons, not least of which is Regina Mills standing stunned, with a little girl on her hip. Can't wait to hear what you guys think.
Thoughts and Headcanon:
IV.
*Teething usually begins at 3-6 months (according to my extensive internet knowledge of babies!). Let's say she's almost four here.
*Ruby is going to be the cool, favorite aunt who does all the fun things.
*Let's call the daycare center McPhee's, shall we?
*Ruby ships them, too, guise! xD
V.
*Of course Regina would want a more esthetically pleasant building in the place of the already hurriedly built Sheriff's Office, and of course she'd be completely OCD about the whole thing.
* They chose Ionic pillars in the end.
*Leo is one of those irritating, irritable, fussy, tantrum-throwing babies who look deceptively adorable (but in my head he grows up to be a fine, strapping lad, and he and Allison become best friends later).
*Also, Leo's name (I just realized the other day!) has nothing to do with Leopold. He's just … such a Leo to me, this tantrum-prone adorable baby. I thought of changing but nothing else seems right, so Leo it is.
*This particular giraffe has very floppy ears. Just sayin'. Also, he's called Mr. Flutterwinkle but since that is a very hard to pronounce name, I won't inflict it on our baby.
*Allison looks a lot like bb!JMo. I won't have it any other way!
*Yes, Henry calls her Little Bird. Ironic when you see she ends up calling him Hen-Hen and Henny.
*Henry hates mowing lawns. He doesn't like the way freshly cut grass smells, it makes his eyes water.
*Also, he does have a harmless little crush on Ruby. Oh, to be twelve and crushing hard on somebody impossible! I think we've all been there.
VI.
*95 Mifflin Street because 95 was my roll number in med school. Apparently, if you get called a number for four years, you tend to get really attached to it. I always squee very hard when I see Lightning McQueen.
*Emma cooking with written recipes is totally me. I cannot cook unless I have written instructions to follow. Also, the pots and pans.
*Ohai, show's canon storyline! *nods*
*Henry is totally a mini-Regina in some things. Exhibit one: urn.
*Henry and Emma had a bet on the tyrant thing (the loser was gonna cough up money for the winner's hot cocoa at Granny's). Emma won (that was some Council meeting, I tell you, where the Sheriff called the Mayor a 'tyrant'). Henry, smart kid and gentleman that he is, ordered a hot cocoa for Emma, and when she finished it (smirky cocoa moustache included), he turned to Ruby, calmly pointed at Emma, and said, "Put it on my mother's tab."
*I know nothing about baseball. But the team is called the Storybrooke Wolves and they … erm, howl before and after every game (in case you wanna know).
*Miss Ginger gave Leroy a concussion that day, by the way. Also, they are neighbors.
