"You sure you'll be alright through the night?" she held the phone using her shoulder. She had just dropped Henry off at Regina's and was trying to get into her car, holding both her phone and the numerous shopping bags.

"Of course, don't worry," her father's voice said through the phone. "you go and have some quality time with your mother".

"And little brother," she breathed, finally sitting down in the driver's seat. "Ok, Dad, I'm starting to drive. If you need anything just give me a call".

"Bye princess," he said, and she hung up the phone, throwing it on the passenger seat.

Ever since she came back from the past, the relationship she had with both her parents had been growing closer and closer. She learnt that when they were upset they had a disciplinary voice, one that she couldn't argue with, but she had also learnt that it was some-times enough to give them her puppy dog eyes, or call them sweet names in order for them to do what-ever she wanted.

She parked her car and struggled out of it, once again holding all the bags. Standing in front of the door she debated for a second what to do before kicking it gently with her right foot.

The door opened way too fast for her liking and in front of her stood her mother, arms folded over her chest. "I had just put your brother to sleep," she whispered angrily, "and you decide to come and kick the door".

"Sorry," she murmured, giving her mother two bags to carry inside.

"So what did you buy?" Snow asked after they had settled the bags down on the counter.

Emma gave her a soft smile. "Would be better to ask what I didn't buy. I got all the chocolate in the world, and then some. And a lot of ice cream and drinks".

"Of course you did. Any-thing for dinner, or are we skipping that?" Snow smirked.

"Oh".

"Yeah, I thought you'd say that. I made us some pasta and salad".

She made a disgusted face and wrinkled her nose. "Salad is for the weak," she said in a whiny tone. She loved defying her mother.

"NO, salad is for the ones who want to leave till their three hundred".

"I'll be fine with only a couple hundred," Emma smiled. "Seriously Mum, chocolate and ice cream are a good enough dinner for me".

"Don't even start with me, Emma," Snow smirked and turned around to put the ice cream in the freezer.

"So did I miss Neal?" Emma asked quietly, sitting down by the kitchen island.

"Yeah, by the minute. He finally fell asleep. This kid hates sleeping as much as you hate your salad".

Emma laughed quietly and grabbed an empty bag, throwing it at her mother's head. But of course Snow ducked just in time for it to miss it.

"Oh, that's a war you've started," she declared, picking the bag up and throwing it at her daughter. She then turned around and poured the pasts into two different plates.

Turning to set the plates on the table, she saw Emma try to sneak out a cookie from the jar resting on the counter. "Emma!"

With a 'busted' look, Emma turned around to face her mother. "Please?"

"No, we are having dinner".

Seriously, who needed dinner when they had so much chocolate and cookies and other delicious stuff? Emma batted her eyes, giving her mother her best puppy dog eyes. "Pretty please?" she asked.

"How old are you?" Snow shook her head and took a step before snatching the cookie out of Emma's hands. "You can eat your cookie after you eat dinner".

"But Mum—"

"No buts," Snow answered, "sit down".

Emma folded her hands over her chest. "That's a war," she whispered before sitting down. Inside, her heart was doing a happy dance. She loved those little moments between her and her parents, those little wars and shows of stubbornness.

She picked at her pasta, not really ready to give up just yet. She was going to have that cookie. And besides, there was no way she was eating any salad.

"Come on Emma, eat your salad, and we can go put on that movie we planned".

"I'm not going to eat it," she smiled, "you know I hate it".

"Yeah, I also know that if you'll eat it, I'll make you a hot cocoa to go with the snacks you bought".

Emma gave her a serious look. "No," she said in mock shock, "you won't make me eat it".

She knew her mother was fighting a laugh. "Just eat the salad Emma," she sighed, taking another bite of her pasta.

"No way, I just want that cookie. Please Mum?"

"Stop giving me that look," Snow laughed, "it's not going to convince me".

Emma chuckled. Time to pull the big guns. "Please Mama?" she said in a whiny voice, her eyes glittering.

"Sometimes I think I'm dealing with a three year old. Eat your salad Emma," she said, "and I might not ground you".