I'M SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO UPDATE. WRITER'S BLOCK, THEN LIFE GOT IN THE WAY, THEN MORE WRITER'S BLOCK. ALSO, THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER. I ALREADY HAVE A CHARMING FAMILY POST-CURSE FIC GOING THAT DEMANDS ATTENTION, AND AT THE TIME I HAD INTENDED FOR THIS TO BE A ONE-SHOT. SORRY IF I DISAPPOINTED ANYONE.
DON'T OWN IT.
Emma drives home from the stables with James in the passenger seat. He's gripping onto the door handle for dear life as his daughter careens down the street. At first, he thought her reckless driving was due to being angry, but the giddy grin on her face –and so utterly un-Emma-like he doesn't quite believe it's there– proves otherwise.
"Turn, turn, turn! Way too close, Emma, way too close." He shouts in a panic-stricken voice.
"Oh. Sorry, I didn't realize I was going so fast." She laughs self-consciously, sparing her father a tiny glance. "I guess it's a good thing I'm sheriff. Can't give a ticket to myself."
"Who taught you to drive?" James asks casually, and notices the way the blonde's grip on the steering wheel tightens.
"Um… me." She says after a long pause.
"Do you always drive like this?"
"God, no. I'm just…" She stops, considering the consequences of revealing the truth. "I'm excited." Then she quickly adds, almost involuntarily like the words are flying out of her mouth before she can stop them, "To tell Henry about the horses." She sighs, head falling back against the headrest. "Sorry, I… I didn't mean to add that last part. I'm excited to be with my family." Emma has to force every word out.
"I am, too." James smiles warmly. "Emma, you're speeding again."
"Oh." She immediately takes her foot off the gas and sighs for the second time.
"I'm guessing you get road rage?"
"Yeah. A bit." They round a corner and pull into the parking lot of the apartment complex.
"Hey. We made it back in one piece. That's always good." He jokes, getting out of the passenger seat and closing the door.
"I may have a tendency to go fast, but I'm a good driver. I am the sheriff, after all." Emma quips.
"I never said you weren't." James opens the main door for his daughter.
"Thanks." She does the same to him when they reach the apartment.
"We're back!" He calls, hanging his coat on the coat hanger.
"How'd she do?" Henry asks, bounding across the room to greet his mother and grandfather.
"I didn't ride." The blonde replies, shrugging out of her jacket.
"Why not?"
"Well, um…" Emma isn't sure if she should mention her horse. The last thing she wants to do is bring up painful memories for her mother, since the teacher is in such a good mood. She takes a seat at the kitchen table next to Henry. "My horse is a little small right now." She offers a hesitant smile that grows when Snow returns it, reaching out and squeezing her hand from across the table.
"What did you name her?" The brunette asks quietly, half in the moment, half lost in memories from long ago.
"Harley." Emma answers.
"That's… not a horse's name, but not surprising." Snow comments.
"Grandma, can we have cake now?"
"Yes–" The blonde starts to answer for her mother because she's starving and cake sounds really good. But Snow doesn't let her finish.
"How about some lunch first?" Both Emma and Henry let out a comical groan which Snow and James smirk at.
"Depends on what it is." The blonde negotiates with a semi-fake seriousness that she only reserves for talking to Mr. Gold or Regina (when they're not bickering like a married couple).
"Oh?" Snow raises an eyebrow, her tone sounding like a mother whose daughter just told her she's doing something against the mother's wishes. This makes Emma squirm uncomfortably, from both the mere tone (no one's ever used it on her, even if they had plenty reason to) and because her mother is acting like, well, her mother.
"What did you make?" James asks, hoping to settle this thing before it goes to blows. Not that he thinks it will, not at all. He hears the teasing tone in his wife's (his real wife) voice, sees it in her eyes. He may not know his daughter very well, but luckily for him, she takes after her mother. He knows she's playing around, at least about the 'maybe eating lunch before cake' thing. Whether or not she'll end up having pizza delivered because she either doesn't like what Snow made (he doubts Snow would make something she doesn't like, though) or she simply doesn't feel like eating it is a whole other story.
"Guess." The teacher smiles.
"Macaroni and cheese, my favorite." He says.
"Mhm." Snow settles for squeezing his hand, since anything more will get Henry and Emma squawking.
"That works." The blonde announces. Henry nods vigorously in agreement.
"I'm glad I didn't inconvenience you." Snow says sarcastically with an eye roll to boot as she pushes herself out of the chair to take the macaroni out of the oven.
"She's kidding." James says.
"I spent 2 months with her in uh, the enchanted forest. Believe me, I know."
"And you liked getting to spend quality time with me!" The brunette calls from the kitchen, then places the pan of macaroni on the table.
"Yeah, if quality time means getting hunted by ogres, a crazy sociopathic and psychopathic bitch, Captain Asshole, and a giant." Emma shoots back. "But yeah, other than that, spending time with you was nice." Snow drops the forks she had been bringing over to the table. "You still aren't used to my colorful language?" Emma is genuinely confused.
"You just said spending time with me is nice." The brunette's face takes on a rosy shade as she picks up the fallen silverware, embarrassed by her carelessness.
"Did you want me to say it was horrible?"
"No, no! I just, it was unexpected, that's all." Snow says. "Now, who's hungry."
"Me." All three of her companions exclaims.
"It smells delicious." James says.
"It tastes even better." Henry declares.
"You let him taste it before me!?" He says with mock hurt. Back in the Enchanted Forest, she always let him taste the macaroni before anyone else.
"He's ten, and today, you're thirty. You can deal with it." Snow says.
"What!?" Emma drenches them with the soda that flows from her mouth. "My father is only two years older than me? Oh, what the Hell…"
"Ugh." Henry wipes the sweet drink off his face with a napkin.
"Sorry about that." The blonde smiles sheepishly. "It's just… my parents are two years older than me."
"Well, technically…" Snow's face pales to a ghostly white. "Technically I'm… 58. Well, I guess that's one good thing about the curse. I didn't age!"
"I'm 58, too. That's okay, let's celebrate my thirtieth today. And thirty first next year. So on and so forth." James says.
"I want some cake, so let's dig in." Emma announces. "Maybe I should get the silverware this time." She smiles, getting up and walking to the drawer. She pulls out the necessary eating utensils and hands them out. Snow dishes the macaroni out, to James first so he'll quit his wining.
"This is so good!" He says around a mouthful. "God, I've missed this. Kathryn only made it from the box."
"Kraft isn't that bad." Emma comments.
"That's because that's all you knew how to make." Snow quips.
"Point taken." The blonde's eyes bulge when she tastes it. "How come you never made this when I was, or you were my… are we… never mind. As Mary Margaret."
"Emma, I am still your roommate and friend, even though I'm your mother." She answers her daughter's unvoiced question, shooting the blonde a knowing smile. "I didn't even know I knew how to make it."
"Of course Regina would erase the memory of how to make macaroni and cheese." James exclaims, as if it's a felony. It at least earns him a smile from the other three, which is enough for him.
"Emma, even I can make mac and cheese out of a box, and I'm ten. This wasn't that hard to make." Henry says with a classical Henry smirk on his face.
"I thought I tasted some Henry in it." James ruffles the boy's hair.
"What do I taste like?" Henry asks, completely unaware that his word choice was not so great. While Snow and James' laughter is somehow gracious despite some snorting, Emma nearly chokes on the macaroni she'd been shoveling in. "What's so funny?"
"Oh, Kid…" The blonde manages to gasp. "You'll figure it out someday."
"On that note, I'm glad the macaroni tastes good." The brunette says. The rest of lunch went by quietly, except for the clanking of forks and the occasional glass being picked up and put down. It wasn't an uncomfortable or awkward silence at all; if anything, it was contentedness.
"I'm done!" Henry announces. "So I deserve cake."
"I second that." Emma says. James turns his puppy dog eyes on his wife.
"Then it's decided. Emma, want to help me bring the cake out?"
"Me? No! That's a bad idea. I'll drop it." The blonde looks panicked.
"Alright. Do you think you can handle lighting the candles?" Snow smiles.
"Yeah." Emma nods in the affirmative.
"Can I help?" Henry asks.
"How about you bring the dishes to the sink and pass out new forks." Snow suggests.
"Okay." It's obvious the kid isn't too happy with his job, and perhaps if it was Regina who had asked before the curse was broken and he was still living with her, he would have protested and sulked, but he doesn't; he does what is asked without complaint.
"It's a big help, Henry. Thank you." Snow ruffles his hair as they make their way to the kitchen. Henry carefully balances the plates and used silverware. The load he's carrying lands in the sink with a clatter. The trio reemerges, and Henry bounds over to his grandfather. Snow carries the cake, moving slowly so as not to drop it. Emma twirls the lighter in her hand.
"You should be careful with that." James points out. "I don't want you to get hurt."
"It has a child safety lock thingy." The blonde rolls her eyes. "But… I'll be more careful in the future." She adds quietly. I'm trying to change, she reminds herself. Snow puts down the cake in the middle of the table, and James finally gets a good look at it. It's vanilla with chocolate frosting.
"That's colorful." He comments.
"I decorated it!" Henry says proudly. While the cake is certainly colorful with all the sprinkles, they are more or less dumped wherever the boy thought appropriate, and therefore not the most aesthetically pleasing.
"You did a good job." James remarks.
"Yeah, Kid, you did." Emma agrees, reaching over the table to ruffle his hair.
"Although, you can barely see the sprinkles with all the candles. Are there really thirty here, Snow?"
"Yes." The brunette smiles. "I'm a teacher; I do believe I can count."
"And they're red."
"You're favorite color."
"Today really is all about me." James beams.
"Honey, every day is about you." Snow says. "Want to light them up, Emma?"
"I'd love to. Blow 'em out fast so you don't get wax on the cake, but don't spit on it cause I'll be mad." The blonde lights each of the thirty candles.
"I won't." He promises.
"Make a wish!" Henry says. James closes his eyes and in one long exhale, all of the flames on the candles flicker out. The smoke swirls about, and for a few moments that's all anyone can smell.
"I'll cut it." Emma offers hesitantly.
"Great." Snow breathes with a smile, handing her daughter a knife. After the Sheriff hands out huge slices of cake to everyone, the brunette sighs. "You only wanted to cut it to make sure you got a big piece, didn't you?"
"No." Emma answers honestly. "I wanted to help, and I think I did a good job. Big pieces are a bonus." She winks at Henry.
"You know what? This is the best birthday ever. Thank you guys for making it so perfect." James says. For the first time ever, Emma feels as if she's finally home.
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING AND STICKING WITH ME THROUGH ALL OF THIS. IF YOU HAVE TIME, PLEASE VOTE IN THE POLL I MADE! (IT'S OUAT RELATED).