A/N: I'm sorry if this is a little more scattered than normal. I've written in 15 minute increments so my mind wasn't always in the same place as I wrote it.

I would also like to welcome to the world Eva Catherine. No, she wasn't named after OUAT, as that is her grandmother's name. Her father joked that he was surprised my friend didn't insist on naming her Emma.

Emma was still cradling her children when Elsa slipped into the room with a foam cup in her hand. The blonde women smiled at each other as Elsa waved the cup in the air. "I come bearing gifts," she said triumphantly. "Hot chocolate, cinnamon and plenty of whipped cream." She took off the domed lid from the cup and breathed in the scent. "Smells heavenly. You do still like this, don't you?"

"Oh…." Emma moaned staring at the cup with its whipped cream peeking over the top. "You just said the magic words." She frowned and looked at her children. "My hands are full. You mind holding your goddaughter?"

Elsa placed the cup next to her friend and scooped her goddaughter up, dropping a kiss on the sleeping baby's head. "That's a good girl," she cooed. "Come here to your Aunt Elsa."

Emma was already sipping the chocolate drink as if it were a fine wine and moaning luxuriously. Her nose wrinkled and her toes wiggled under the sheets. "You are a good friend," she said. "You bring me chocolate."

"I thought you could use it," she said with a smile. Looking at the couch, she saw Killian still sprawled out on it, a thin blanket draped over him and dragging the floor. "Someone's tired."

Emma took another sip. "Don't be too hard on him," she said. "He's endured a lot today. Henry's surgery, my insanity, his daughter being born, my brother, Regina, dealing with my parents…"

"Dealing with me," Elsa continued for her. "I've kind of invaded your private time." She never let her eyes leave the baby, her fingers of her free hand resting on the child's chest and feeling her breathe steadily. "I hate to tell you," she whispered conspiratorially. "The blanket's pink."

"Hospital issued," Emma said with a laugh. "I'm not opposed to it. Like I said, I've been known to wear the color on occasion."

"Good because I think she's going to be a real princess," Elsa declared, swooping into the chair next to Emma's bed. "Her godmother is going to buy her a pony, teach her about proper tea parties and dancing, and I'm already thinking about what style of tiara will look perfect on that beautiful head of hers."

Emma laughed a bit too loud, but thankfully didn't wake Killian or Henry. "Between archery lessons from my mother, sword fighting with my father, and sailing lessons from Killian, she's going to be a busy girl."

"Of course," Elsa said. "A princess's life is filled with lessons and commitments. Her social calendar will fill up before you even realize." She let her eyes trail up from the newborn to her friend's face. "How about you? Is she everything you imagined?"

Emma rolled her lips over her teeth, making her mouth a straight line. Her breath came out of her nose. "I wasn't ever that girl who dreamed of children and weddings and stuff," she admitted. "I grew up thinking that people viewed having babies as a burden or too much work. I thought for so long that that's how my parents viewed me." She relaxed her face. "But I'll admit that the moment I saw her I was in love."

"Such a strong sentiment from you," Elsa said. "I knew you had it in you. You just like the fight, that's all."

"The fight?" Emma asked, chuckling as Henry's head fell back over her arm and his mouth opened. Tiny snores escaped from the boy.

"Yes," Elsa confirmed. "You would rather fight your feelings and everyone else's to prove that you're right about people. It's easier that way for you…for everyone…to shut people out and then tell the world that you were right that they would leave you. It is easier than opening yourself up and taking a chance you could be wrong."

"And how did you get to be so wise?" Emma asked, finishing the last sip of her drink.

"I'm a queen," Elsa said as if it was nothing. "I have to know things. It makes it easier for my people to love me."

Emma again laughed. "Well, if you know things, want to tell me how to do this?" She frowned. "I really have no idea. I mean I get the mechanics of it, but…"

"Just love her," Elsa said, caressing the baby's cheek with the back of her hand. "The rest should happen naturally. You shouldn't have too hard of a time since she's a mirror image of that one over there." Elsa used her elbow to point to the sleeping Killian. "Don't tell him this, but you have to admit the man's features make a beautiful baby girl."

The laugh that Emma choked back was contagious and Elsa's eyes glowed at the joke. "I wish you didn't have to go back home," Emma said between gasps. "I miss you when you're away."

"I miss you too," Elsa acknowledged. "You've been like a second sister to me."

"I feel like you're my sister too," Emma said, smiling. "In a totally non-Ingrid and yellow ribbon kind of way." She fingered the edge of the blanket. "I know you have a kingdom to run and your family there, but sometimes I wish you lived here instead."

"We both have lives and responsibilities," she said, looking down at the baby. "And as much as we would like it to be otherwise, our homes are far apart. But we can visit and we can talk over the mirror. And somehow it is enough. And speaking of enough, I should let you get some sleep, Mommy."

Emma reluctantly drifted off to sleep, leaving Elsa to watch over them.

The next day, as the doctor had said was likely, Emma and Eva were both released to go home, as was Henry with the strict orders of rest. The task of driving his family home was one that Killian took very seriously and Emma tried not to laugh or tease when he checked the car seat at least 11 times after the hospital staff and David had all declared it safe and secure. He helped each of them in the vehicle, threatening to carry them all one by one if necessary.

When the baby let out a soft whimper just a mile from their home, Emma was sure that he was about to pull over to investigate.

"She's fine," Emma insisted from where she sat in the backseat. "It was just the sun in her eyes for a second." Emma's hand was now shielding the baby's face and the little one had quieted immediately.

"Are you sure that's all?" Killian asked, tension evident in his voice as he drove at an even slower pace. "Could it be…"

"She's fine," Emma promised again.

Killian's only response was an unintelligible grunt as he turned onto the street where they lived. Henry snickered and then groaned himself with the pain of the movement.

Once inside, Henry was tucked into bed and Killian was fussing with the bassinet that sat in their bedroom. His daughter slept peacefully in the small, soft confines as he leaned over to listen to her breathing and watch her unremarkable slumber. Emma had gingerly sat on the bed, pushing off his earlier attempts to help her. "So far so good," she said. "We've managed her first feeding at home and a diaper change. We're all still somewhat unscathed."

If he heard her, he didn't respond. His arm rested on the side of the bassinette and his chin in the crook of his elbow. He was enthralled again, memorizing her every feature and characteristic.

"Killian," she said, her voice sympathetic and bothered at the same time. "She's fine. Let her sleep."

He pulled himself back, a sheepish expression on his face. "I'm hovering?"

She nodded, smiling and holding out her hand to him. "A little, but it's adorable," she told him as he approached. "I wouldn't change it for anything. You're…" She stopped, her eyes welling up with tears. "Damn it."

He sat next to her, watching as she wiped at her eyes. "I thought you said that the talk of unfettered emotions after a woman gives birth was utter hogwash," he said mockingly. "I believe you told the doctor that you were not going to give in to such urges."

She glared at him through the tears. "I'm fine," she bit out. "But you better watch it. I've read about women who try to kill their husbands after they have given birth. I thought that was crazy when I read it, but it is starting to make sense." She let a giggle escape through the tears as he jumped back as though scared of her idle threat.

"I'll take my chances," he said, kissing her cheek softly and staying there with his forehead against her temple. "I suppose the visitors will start soon. Everyone will want to see her."

"I suppose so," she said softly. "Elsa said she'd fend them off for as long as she could. But unless she puts an ice wall around this place, I'm not sure that will keep my mother out."

True to his prediction, Granny, Leroy and Ruby arrived a few minutes later. While each commented on how rested and relaxed Emma looked, they were obviously there to see the baby. Killian showed her off with pride, telling each of them that he was enamored with tiny newborn and describing all six pounds eight ounces of perfection that was his daughter.

Regina's visit was next and though she claimed to be there to see her son, she was soon holding the tiny girl. "I hope that fatherhood does not make you soft," she told Killian. "A pirate without a backbone is not very fearsome." She smirked and lifted the baby against her chest. "Though she might be cute enough to make such a transition worth it."

"I'm afraid my reputation as a pirate was compromised years ago," he answered. "Much as yours as the evil queen."

"Touché," she responded, looking toward Emma. "She's beautiful and will grow into a lovely woman, but I have a feeling she's going to be a daddy's girl, through and through."

"Of course," Emma said. "Maybe the next one will be more inclined toward me." She laughed as Killian's eyes shot open and his mouth dropped. "Oh, please don't go there. I am not promising anything or offering. I'm just making a comment." She smiled back at Regina. "He only hears what he wants."

If Emma thought the hospital room was crowded when she was in labor, the first day home was even more so. People dropped by at odd hours, leaving her to feel the need to entertain them though Killian and her parents assured her that she was within the rights of a new mother to rest and ignore the intrusions. Eva handled it like a pro, being held and cuddled by half the town. The infant tolerated her grandfather's watchful eyes, her father's insistence that he get to hold her regularly, her grandmother's constant picture taking, and Emma's pleas for normalcy. And to everyone's happy surprise, the young girl even allowed her Uncle Neal a moment to hold her with the help of her mother and the camera's rapt attention.

Elsa hung back from the family, doing odd chores and organizing the covered dishes that people brought with them as gifts to the new parents. She kept Henry on his medication schedule and checked on him regularly at Emma's request. On one such visit, she found him reading a comic book and eating the sandwich she had left for him earlier.

"The bread is probably stale by now," she said, pushing the door open. "Let me get you another?"

He shook his head no, looking up from the colorful pages to return her gaze. "Sounds like some more of the dwarfs are here," he commented, nodding his head to the door. "We should charge admission."

"It wouldn't deter them," Elsa told him, leaning against his desk. "Your sister is getting a lot of attention."

Henry nodded again, taking a bit of the sandwich and swallowing hard. "You are doing a lot to help them," he commented. "You've been taking care of me. I even saw you sweeping earlier. That's not exactly queen behavior."

Elsa looked out into the hallway at the array of pictures that Emma and Killian had framed and hung. Some were candid shots of them, her parents, Emma with her younger brother, and even Elsa on a visit. Most were of Henry, including some that Regina had shared of him from his younger years. There was the wedding portrait that Emma had protested having to have taken but now loved. A reproduction of her parents' official royal portraits also hung from the walls. "Your mother and I are very good friends," Elsa said. "And you know that it is important to do things to help your friends. Plus little Eva is my goddaughter, just as she is yours. That means we have to do everything we can to make her life all the more wonderful. If that means I sweep the floor so your parents get a moment more with her, then I'm happy to sweep the floors."

Henry sighed. "So that means I should be doing more," he said. "I could make dinner. I know how to do grilled cheese." He was pushing back the covers when he let out a grimace from the sharp pain of his movements.

"I've got it," Elsa said. "People have brought you all enough food for weeks. And your grandmother is in there right now making something called chicken pot pie that she has me freezing for you all to eat later." She came over and pulled back up the cover. "You get better and when it is time for me to go home, you can take over. I know your mom would love one of your grilled cheese dinners."