A/N: I did promise to be quicker with the next one. As always, every comment, review and PM is gratefully received. Hope you like the next set of twists and turns!

Henry waits at the kitchen table as both of his mothers are ushered in by Gramps. Emma's crutches are nowhere to be seen, and instead she's walking normally and carrying a box that's overflowing with books. Mom has a box of her own, although that one has a firmly closed lid. Henry blinks twice and then he can see past the wood to the contents within. Herbs, a few potions, nothing of particular interest.

"Everything okay?" He asks, looking at Mom for any signs that Emma might have blabbed. Mom only looks at him with kindness in her eyes. He wonders how he convinced himself before that she didn't have any kindness in her. Gramps moves over to the fridge and silently brings out a jug of lemonade, placing it on the counter before collecting four glasses.

"Sure is, kid," Emma says. "Your Mom wanted to teach me some more things, so we picked up my homework. You know how I love reading."

Henry catches the wink, and smiles. Emma actually does love reading, but for some reason she doesn't want anyone else to know. She started to explain once, when they were joking around about bedtime stories, and it's something to do with how she never really got to watch movies much as a kid, but books from the library were always free. Maybe it's smart that she wants people to underestimate her, Henry isn't sure.

"Am I staying here again?" Henry asks, because while he likes living with his grandparents, they seem a bit too nervous around him. Oh, they try to pretend like if he just plays enough softball or finishes enough chores, he won't be tempted to throw a fireball at anyone, but he can see through it.

"You're coming home with me," Mom says, narrowing her eyes at Emma and Gramps like she's daring them to contradict her. "You can go back to Emma on Tuesday after school."

"Cool," Henry says, taking a glass of lemonade and sipping at it. "Can we have movie day today? We haven't done that in ages."

Mom lights up like a Christmas tree, and Henry feels bad for knowing that she would. He does really want to watch a movie though, let something else be the show for a while. There's no headache this time, but his whole body has been aching since they left the hospital yesterday. Gram and Gramps haven't noticed, and he took some aspirin this morning before anyone got up, but maybe if it's still bad later, Mom will have another potion.

"Don't watch Monsters University without me," Emma warns.

"That's not even out on DVD yet," Henry sighs. He rolls his eyes at Emma, and Mom smiles even wider. "I'll go get my bag."

He can't quite shake the nagging worry that Emma is pissed at him, and that it's going to turn into another discussion of how much trouble he is, but for now a day with his Mom sounds perfect. Henry hugs both of his mothers before running upstairs.

"So, tomorrow?" Emma asks quietly, once Henry has thumped all the way upstairs.

"As soon as he's at school," Regina agrees, before sneering at the glass of lemonade David offers to her.

"You two are spending a lot of time together," Mary Margaret says, appearing from the garden at just that moment. "You didn't tell us Regina was going to New Hampshire with you, then you drop Henry off here, and now you're making plans for tomorrow?"

"You would think," Regina responds, her spine straightening. "That after all this time you would learn not to meddle in the affairs of other people."

"Affair is an interesting choice of words," Mary Margaret shoots back, her hands full of herbs and her gaze locked on Regina.

"Hey!" Emma interrupts. "No fighting around Henry, remember? We're just trying to set up some stuff to protect him. And Regina had to come get me from New Hampshire, because she's the only one who can cross the line."

"I noticed a new yellow car in your space outside the apartment earlier," David says, catching up to his wife's line of questioning.

"It's a used car, actually," Regina says. "Again, not something that's even close to your business. Emma's car was wrecked, she got a new one."

"And hey, I didn't even have to steal it this time," Emma adds, creating an uncomfortable silence.

"Is there something going on between you two?" Mary Margaret asks. "David said he bumped into Regina with breakfast earlier. But there was no sign of her car. I'm asking because Emma, that would be a very stupid, very dangerous thing to do. You can't 'hook up' with the Evil Queen."

"You think my moms are... dating?" Henry asks from the doorway.

Emma's never felt her blood actually run cold before, but right now it's like goddamned ice cubes in her veins. And how in the hell does Henry know what 'hooking up' means, anyway? Regina looks just as scandalized at his instant translation.

"Of course not," Regina says, turning towards him. One of them was going to have to risk the lie, and Emma's no idiot about what kind of risk that is for Regina right now. It's a bigger favor than buying a car. "Your grandmother is a gossip, Henry. You can't listen to every crazy idea she comes up with."

"Hey!" David calls out. "You can correct someone without being rude, Regina."

"I'm aware. But it's a lot more fun this way."

"Regina," Emma warns.

"Henry, come along. We have movies to watch. And I'm going to make you any dinner you want."

Emma turns to her parents in exasperation as Regina leads Henry out of the house. Perhaps Emma should feel guilty for lying, but there really isn't any kind of legitimate thing between her and Regina, even if it was weirdly pleasant to just sleep next to someone last night, and form an effortless partnership in the face of Belle's threat just an hour before.

And hey, now that Emma's healed, there's no need for just sleeping the next-shit. It really kind of blows when your mother has a point. Sleeping with Regina is undoubtedly stupid, dangerous, and really not a good thing to complicate anyone's life with right now. Hoping for more, expecting things: Emma knows better than that, for God's sake. No doubt Regina's just acting out as she works through her grief and fear of losing Henry; that doesn't mean Emma has to have a whole lot of sex with her.

"Sorry," Mary Margaret says. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"If it's anyone but Regina," David adds. "We just want you to know that... it would be fine with us. The woman thing. It's not really common back in the Enchanted Forest, but I've watched enough TV to know that people get upset about this stuff."

"Oh yes," Mary Margaret says, pulling Emma into a reluctant hug. "We would love you every bit as much, sweetheart. If you are, you know..."

"Thanks," Emma mumbles. "I don't really do labels or anything, but... thanks."

It's a long, long way from the beating she took from a particularly unpleasant foster father the time he walked in on Emma making out with Suzy... something, back in Jackson. Although, Emma recalls with a shudder, that was really more about not letting him stay to watch. When he took a belt to her after throwing Suzy bodily out of the house, Emma had almost been grateful for a reason to take three showers a day: she could claim to be keeping the broken skin on her back and her legs free from infection. It seemed less depressing than having to do it because of how he looked at her and let seemingly innocent touches linger. All that stopped with the beating.

"Are you staying for lunch?" David asks. "We haven't eaten yet, so there's plenty."

"Sure," Emma agrees, because going home means wading through the boxes she and Regina brought from Gold's. "It'll be nice to catch up."

"No crutches?" Mary Margaret asks. "David, you said she was in a lot of pain…"

"Regina taught me some healing magic," Emma confesses, taking a seat at the table and taking a mouthful of lemonade. "It worked pretty well, huh?"

"You know," Mary Margaret says, taking a seat opposite Emma. "We had no idea you would be magical. I suppose with the threat of Regina's curse, and everything we had to worry about in this other land we sent you to… it never cropped up."

"Your fairy didn't tell you?"

"Nope?"

"And Gold? Didn't you go to him to find out how to stop Regina?"

"No," David admits. "Although we were pretty harsh on him as a prisoner. It's possible he just didn't feel like giving us a scrap more than we made a deal for. That's one thing this world has taught us, at least. People don't really like obeying just because you have the fancy title."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Emma," Mary Margaret cautions and it's so motherly, the way she scolds, that Emma can't help grinning.

"Since we're kid-free, how about we go out for a meal tonight? I feel like every time we get a chance to get to know each other as, you know, kid and parents… stuff happens. There's always a crisis. Or I get sucked into a portal."

"We'd like that. You want to hang out and watch the game with me?" David asks.

"I have homework," Emma groans. "But I guess if I do that in the same room as the game…"

"You should check in with Blue at some point," Mary Margaret insists. "Oh, I've accepted you're going to learn from Regina. But it can't hurt to make sure she isn't filling you with dark magic."

The least appropriate comeback of Emma's life formulates on her tongue, but she bites it back in time.

"I'm starting to teach myself, sort of? That's what the books are for."

"We don't get a chance to talk much," Mary Margaret continues. "But Blue, and other people, they've mentioned that you must be quite powerful. The whole, uh, true love thing."

"Well, that one's on you guys," Emma teases. "So, does this offer of the game on TV come with a cold beer?" She gets up and heads to the fridge, and the ease of it even in this house she barely knows makes Emma well up with the sudden memory of how she dreamed of things like this.

"You okay?" David asks, standing to approach her where she's frozen halfway across the kitchen.

"It's just…" Emma is at a loss for how to describe it. "I think it's like when I used to dream about finding my parents… I came up with so many crazy stories about why you had to leave me. I told the other foster kids you were spies, that you were in some cult that wouldn't let you escape but you smuggled me out to protect me… and the fantasy always ended with us sitting in a kitchen like this. Like we'd always known each other."

It's really too much, but by the time she bursts into tears, both parents have her scooped into a group hug.

"If I'd known I couldn't come with you," Mary Margaret explains. "We would have sent a letter. Or something, anything to let you know we didn't want to leave you alone."

"Well, they'd have locked me in a psych ward for saying any of this stuff," Emma says, pulling away gently. "So I guess that makes it easier to forgive you."

"You forgive us?" Mary Margaret whispers.

"I guess I do. And thank you, you know, for everything with Henry. I really am trying to do what's best for him."

"You and Regina made a plan?"

It's David who asks, already crossing his arms across his chest as they prepare to disapprove. Emma sighs inwardly.

"Yeah, that's what we were doing this morning. We're going to magic-proof the apartment, basically. And then do other places. So when Henry is at home, at least, he can't exert any power over the adults."

"That's a big step," David says. "Did something happen yesterday?"

"Yeah," Emma admits. "Henry can do magic beyond the town line. And I can, sort of a little bit? But he's way better. He says it's some element thing about getting his magic in this world."

"And Regina can't?" Trust Mary Margaret to pounce on the relevant detail Emma didn't exactly mention.

"Nope."

"Well," David sighs in relief. "That's the first good news we've had since Cora died. It means you can take Henry from her if she goes back on her promise and tries to turn him as evil as she is."

"Can we stop that?" Emma pleads. "Like everyone is just one thing or the other? Because you," she says, turning to her mother. "Did a shady thing, offing Cora like that. And just a little while ago I was ready to kill someone for being a threat to Henry."

"Who?" Both parents demand.

"Belle," Emma tells them, shoving her hands in her pockets. "She's fine, but she was kind of… snooping, I guess. Regina rebooted her into a curse memory, so she'll still be weird about magic stuff, but she won't remember what she heard about the Dark One."

"You're sure?" David looks as uneasy as Emma still feels. "That sounds a lot like Regina up to her old tricks."

"No, it was the right thing. Belle's convinced she works at the Rabbit Hole, so I'll check in on her a couple of times, to be sure. Left up to me? I'm not sure how that would have gone down. I kinda lashed out."

"Okay," Mary Margaret sighs. "Let's get those beers, huh? I think we all need a few hours off."

A pleasant day with her parents leaves Emma feeling relaxed again, and she actually manages to sleep in on Monday morning. Regina's banging on the front door rouses Emma, but before she can stumble across the living room, an impatient Regina has teleported herself inside.

"Rude, Regina."

"And greeting someone in your underwear is the height of good manners?"

"Hey, it's not like it's the first time," Emma reminds her. "I'm putting coffee on."

"Wise. You're just skipping work these days?"

"David's covering," Emma retorts. "Since you already booked me for magic-proofing and I have no idea how long it takes. Even after flicking through most of those books."

"Flicking doesn't teach much. I brought the potion ingredients, and the relevant spells. I'm not sure I'm strong enough to make it work first time, but we should try…"

"Not like you to admit a weakness," Emma points out. "You feeling okay?"

"It was nice," Regina confesses. "Having Henry back again so soon. I knew I missed him, I mean it's an ache. But I hadn't realized just how much until he was there, making it all go away."

"I did say you're welcome to stay with him here," Emma says. "Or you know, your place if we can magic-proof all of that at some point."

"Assuming this plan even works," Regina counters. "As the Dark One, he may well have the knowledge to break this spell with no more than a flick of his wrist."

"Oh, good. Optimist Regina came to breakfast."

"I don't see my coffee in front of me yet."

"This ain't Starbucks," Emma offers. "It's on, okay?"

"Then let's get to work," Regina suggests.

"Right after I find some pants."

By their second round of coffee, Regina declares herself ready.

The furniture is pushed back against the walls, not that there's exactly lots of it now that Mary Margaret has moved out. In jeans and a tank top, Emma feels like the hired labor alongside Regina in her fitted black dress, a hint of lace at the hem and the neckline that distracts Emma far more than she wants to admit.

"One wall at a time," Emma repeats, like she has a clue what she's talking about. Regina's been especially on edge since Emma freaked out about a beaker full of what looked like human blood, but turned out to be some sort of rare berries, all puréed in preparation for the spell.

Regina points a finger at the finished potion, smiling when it instantly turns from red to purple, glowing in the oversized glass bottle on the floor. A sort of steam rises from the neck of the bottle, floating directly towards Regina who inhales it with a contented little sigh. Emma doesn't want to speculate, but the thrill Regina gets from performing magic isn't a million miles away from the sobbing little sighs that came after her orgasms.

"Here goes," she mutters, spreading the fingers on each hand and pointing them at the brick wall with the door in it.

The magic bursts forth like water from a fire truck's hose, and when it hits the brick, the stream turns a vibrant blue. Regina lets it flow through her, her entire body starting to shake, and slowly but surely the whole wall takes on a blue tinge.

"Turn me," Regina gasps, and Emma springs into action. They'd discussed that Regina might not be able to move too freely, so with hands laid gently on Regina's hips, Emma turns her towards the adjacent wall, the stream of magic intensifying as it splashes on a fresh surface.

"Again," Regina grunts when that wall is covered, and Emma duly rotates her to face the kitchen, the magic actually splashing this time as it encounters all the surfaces and cupboards.

"You're done," Emma says when the kitchen looks like a platoon of Smurfs exploded in it. Regina doesn't respond, but she's shaking so violently now that Emma's teeth rattle from the simple act of touching her. "Regina? Regina, talk to me."

Emma steps around and sees blood trickling from Regina's nose. It's enough to make her start lowering Regina's arms in an attempt to stop the spell, but Regina shakes her head frantically.

"Finish… or it won't work."

Reluctantly, Emma turns Regina towards the fourth wall, maybe it's all the glass in the windows, but this one doesn't seem to take as long. By the time the blue mist joins the first wall again, making all the color disappear, Regina is collapsing into Emma's waiting arms.

"That better not have killed you," Emma groans, kneeling carefully and resting Regina's head in her lap. "When you said 'a little draining'…"

Regina just gasps instead of responding. Emma lays her hands on Regina's shoulders again, and this time she just summons a vague feeling of wellbeing. Sure enough, it flows out of Emma's fingers as a pink cloud, letting Regina rally a moment later.

"Oh," Regina says, and when Emma moves to remove her hands, Regina lays her own over them and squeezes. "Thank you."

"Did it work?"

"Yes," Regina confirms, before pushing herself back to sitting and away from Emma's hands. "My heart isn't very happy with me right now, but it worked."

"Is it your turn for a hospital visit?" Emma jokes. "Because we should definitely get some of those loyalty cards."

"No," Regina corrects. "It's not medical. The spell, well, it draws on the love you hold for someone. In this case, Henry."

"You can only magic-proof people you love?"

"No, hate works just as well. Magic is emotion, remember?"

"Here," Emma offers, grabbing a tissue and offering it to Regina for her nose. When she doesn't react right away, Emma moves in and dabs at the blood for her. Their eyes lock, and Emma's breath catches in her throat.

Which, luckily, is enough to send Regina scrambling towards the bathroom, saying she can look after herself. The smart thing—the parent-pleasing, all-round good and wise thing—to do is leave Regina alone to sort herself out. But Emma is on her way to the bathroom right behind her, watching Regina from behind mere seconds later, wiping away the rest of the blood that had trickled over her crazily sexy scar.

There are a hundred ways to start this, but in the end, there really aren't any words that will say it as well as marching over there, backing Regina against the tiled wall, and kissing the hell out of her will.

Emma should know better by now, than to think it's going to be that easy.

She approaches Regina from behind, and somehow in the distraction Regina doesn't notice that approach, meaning that Emma grabbing Regina by the hips results only in a blood-curdling shriek.

Stumbling away and almost falling into the bathtub, Emma just yells out 'what the hell?' before she can think. Ten seconds later the realization of why someone would be so jumpy comes bearing down on her like a freight train.

"Oh, hey," she soothes, holding up her hands in instant surrender. "I wasn't thinking. Sorry."

"I just..." Regina is gripping the sink now, hard enough to crack the porcelain. "I'm not a fan of surprises. Especially not...well, anyway. I'm fine."

"I didn't mean to assume," Emma feels the apology welling up now, and she won't be able to breathe until she's blurted it all out. "It's just you looked so... and I wanted to..."

"I think it's quite clear what you wanted," Regina snaps.

"I'll go back out there," Emma says. "Like I said, I'm sorry."

"Wait!" Regina calls after her. "I didn't want to, you know, not... you caught me off-guard, is all."

"I thought you were gonna put me through the wall. I mean, I get it. I'll just know to brace next time I approach you."

"You don't make me feel like that. This doesn't make me feel like that," Regina says, closing her eyes as though it's costing her something to admit it. "I know we said we wouldn't, anymore, but..."

"Me too," Emma admits. "Is it okay if I-?

"Not if you start treating me like a piece of china. I'm fine," Regina states, and she makes her point by yanking Emma from where she's sitting on the edge of the bathtub and kissing her firmly on the mouth. "Not that we should be doing this at all. Your mother already suspects, and Henry-"

"Well, that just sounds like there's a risk of getting caught. And I can't speak for you, Regina, but I've always been a bit of a bad girl."

"Bad? Dear, they didn't call me the Evil Queen because I stayed out after curfew. You don't know the first thing about bad."

"Show me," Emma whispers, and that flash of Regina's wicked side, the way her voice deepens and her eyes are a little less hurt and more about hurting, that's enough to tip Emma from 'let's see what happens' to 'holy hell, I'll combust if she doesn't touch me'.

Regina raises an immaculate eyebrow in question, and that alone makes Emma's knees reconsider holding her up. She clutches at Regina's black dress with greedy hands, but Regina grips Emma's hair with much more force.

"Then kneel," Regina commands, shoving Emma down to ensure the command is obeyed. "And show me just why I should allow you to keep doing this with me, hmm?"

Emma knows she should have a sassy comeback, but her mouth is spectacularly dry, and Regina pulling the hem of her own dress higher and higher has short-circuited Emma's last hope of forming words.

She slides her hands up the back of Regina's thighs, the better to hide how those hands are shaking with want. The fact that Regina isn't actually wearing underwear, just thigh highs, suggests that okay, maybe Emma wasn't the only one hoping that a morning of casting spells would lead to this.

Kisses are still the first thing that comes to mind, and with more gentleness than she intends, Emma places one, and then another, and then another on the thin strip of tight, dark curls. Regina shifts impatiently, and Emma smiles against her skin. Someone just bought herself a ticket to slow and torturous.

It's nice to take her time, even if Emma's knees are going to protest about all the time pressed against the hard tile. She tilts her head back and draws her tongue in a lazy zig-zag through Regina's wetness, pleased to hear the first encouraging moans that come tumbling from Regina's mouth. The angle isn't the greatest, and so Emma pulls back just long enough to say 'sit' and nod at the edge of the tub.

At least Regina is feeling cooperative for once.

Grabbing one leg and lifting it on to her shoulder, Emma feels far more in control. Regina's fingers are still tangled in her hair, but the grip is more encouraging pressure than yanking anyone around now. She leans in and blows gently, provoking a little growl of frustration that melts into a contented sigh at the next touch of Emma's tongue.

She's never bought into tracing the alphabet as a technique, but she does spend a long time following every line and lavishing strong licks in every dip. The avoidance of Regina's clit is making her squirm spectacularly against Emma's mouth, not least when Emma draws her tongue so, so close and then slips away again, alternating those long licks with soft sucking until Regina really is cursing, and tugging on Emma's hair and urging her to where Regina quite desperately needs Emma's touch.

"Patience," Emma scolds, but Regina is pleading then, her voice somehow liberated by Emma's own words.

"Please," she sobs. "Gods, please. I can't, I can't..."

Emma's pretty sure she can, and she reduces each repetition of those words to heaving sighs over the next few minutes, skimming Regina's clit with slightly more force each time, but still not enough to let her come.

It's Emma's name that breaks her determination in the end. It's the one thing she hasn't heard Regina say like this and it sounds like something between a prayer and an order to make Regina come. Emma, pushed to the edge by the word alone, can't resist doing exactly that, her own fingers rubbing hard at her clit as Regina comes with a cry.

And if she refuses to let up with the strokes of her tongue until Regina tenses and practically howls a second time, well, Emma's learning it's not always a bad thing to be a perfectionist.

"So, we did that again," Emma says, sitting back on the tile floor and trying to catch her breath.

"Call it… I don't know, stress release?"

"I swear to God, Regina, if you're just banging me because you don't have time to make your Pilates class…"

"I'm more of a spinning girl, actually."

"Well, that explains the grip your thighs have."

"I'm told they could kill a man," Regina muses. "Oh, or a woman. Even easier, I suppose."

"You know, school isn't out for another hour," Emma reminds her, getting up off the floor.

"And to think this relentless streak of yours used to annoy me."

"I annoyed you?"

"That's one word for it," Regina sighs, standing on still-shaky legs.

Oh. Yeah. The whole mortal enemies thing, Emma catches herself almost rewriting history in the post-coital glow. Except they never have been enemies, not really. Just two people whose happiness got caught up in the same threads. Turns out it's easier to be woven into the same thing than to keep pulling away, to keep unraveling everything.

"What did you have in mind?" Emma asks, before letting Regina take her by the hand and lead her out into the living room and towards the downstairs sleeping area.

"Why don't you take those clothes off and I'll show you?"

In the scramble for clothes and accessories, Regina is the one to grab Emma's ringing phone. Answering with a swipe of her thumb, Regina realizes her mistake too late, and tries to style it out with a stilted "Emma Swan's phone."

She hands it over thirty seconds later with a perfectly cool "it's for you", which provokes Emma into letting the most withering "duh" possible fall from her lips.

"Hey," she says, relieved and still a little pissed to hear Neal return her greeting. "Oh, you remembered I'm alive again, did you?"

"Tamara already busted my balls on this one, okay? I want to make it up to Henry."

"I'm sure you do. Until you change your mind halfway there. Or see a shadow and it reminds you of the Dark One or something," Emma argues. "We can make a plan, but I'm not telling Henry until I actually see you standing here in town."

"That's fair," Neal concedes. "I can take a couple of days, get to work on the house. I, uh, got that message."

"When are you coming?" Emma asks, ignoring anything else that pops into her head. Talking to Neal is a roller coaster, and now the dips and bends are even sharper, with the past she didn't know about clashing against the one she actually remembers.

"Let's say Wednesday," Neal offers. "I'll get there in time for him getting out of school, if that's okay?"

"Fine," Emma agrees. "I'll run it by Regina, and if she signs off then I'll let you know."

"She's right there, why don't you ask her?"

"Because we're busy, Neal. Someone has to sort out safety issues for Henry."

"Okay, okay," he groans. "Let me know by tomorrow night, okay? I need to rent my own car this time."

"Fine. Later," Emma signs off, before turning back towards a now immaculate Regina. Only a kinked strand of hair confirms anything was ever out of place at all. "I'm guessing you got the general idea?"

"He can come," Regina agrees. "But you're right not to tell Henry until it's a done deal."

"First you put out like that, now you're telling me I'm right?" Emma teases. "Careful, Regina. I might start thinking it's my birthday."

"I have to go collect Henry."

"Go right ahead."

"We're doing some more control lessons after dinner."

"That's nice."

"If you're free," Regina forces the words out. "It would be okay for you to join us."

"I'll stick to my reading," Emma says, not trusting herself to spend any further time in Regina's company today. The lace is already peeking at Emma again, and there's no way the evening ends in a way that won't traumatize Henry for life. "But when we bring him back tomorrow to test the spell, you're welcome to stay for dinner."

"Microwave noodles?" Regina snorts. "I'll skip lunch to save room."

"Go away, Regina," Emma orders. "Some of us have learning to do."

Henry is jabbering at a hundred miles an hour as he stumbles into the apartment. Emma watches, car keys still in hand because she only just beat him and Regina home, but he doesn't react to the spell that lurks silently in the walls.

Huh. Maybe magic isn't all it's cracked up to be. It's only when she sees Regina, slumped against the doorframe and barely holding on, that Emma understands the nature of the spell.

"Pour some juice for all of us, kid," Emma instructs, and Henry goes straight to the fridge because apparently crashing a car buys Emma a little obedience from the little guy. She rushes to Regina's side, taking her by the arm and leading her straight to the sofa.

"Ow!" Regina protests as her ass hits the cushions. "Are you ever going to learn to be gentle?"

"Are you okay?" Emma asks, crouching low and searching Regina's face for any sudden blood or further pain. "Did you know this would happen when he got home?"

"I suspected," Regina admits. "It's why I had to be here. If you hadn't invited me, I would have stayed in the hall to ride it out."

"What's wrong?" Henry pipes up, bringing over two glasses – one brimming with juice and the other barely two fingers' worth. That one he hands to Regina, and she smiles in recognition of some private joke between them.

"I'm fine, Henry," she insists. "When Emma and I were practicing yesterday we cast some protective spells on the apartment. It means none of us will be able to do magic in here anymore."

"Oh," Henry responds. "Is this because you're mad at me for doing magic over the weekend? I mean, teleporting to come get my Mom and stuff?"

"Not at all," Emma insists. "We just want you to have a safe space where you don't have to be, you know, magic all the time."

"So it's like Rumplestiltskin's cell?" Henry asks. "You know, in the book."

"It's like that in real life, too."

"Yeah, kid. Even I've been there. Trust me, this place smells a whole lot better."

Emma sips the apple juice from her almost overflowing glass and smiles as reassuringly as she knows how.

"It's not a punishment, Henry. It's just a safe place," Regina insists.

"Mom, are you going to be okay?"

"Of course," Regina says, resting her glass on her lap. She's more casual today, in a crisp blue shirt and those tight pants people wear when they go horse-riding. The knee-high boots Emma would happily steal for her own collection. "I'll start dinner in a while."

"Who says you're cooking?" Emma asks.

"Common sense?" Regina retorts. "Unless we all want food poisoning. Henry, get started on your homework, please."

"You'd think being the Dark One would get you out of making dioramas," Henry says, heaving a sigh that's certainly centuries old.

For the first time since that bloodied dagger hit the floor in Gold's shop, they all laugh together.

Henry knows there's something up when both moms are waiting at the school gate on Wednesday afternoon. Sure, they all had a really cool evening together, and they think he doesn't know, but he's pretty sure Mom didn't leave until almost dawn. It looks like Grams was right about them, even if she doesn't really believe it.

It's hard to know what to think about that, really. On the one hand, it means no more choosing for him, and everyone spending more time together makes it less weird and awkward than reporting back on his time with each of them. But also, people in couples tend to be kind of gross. Even Gram and Gramps can be kind of icky to be around when they start trying to be all romantic. Henry doesn't think he needs all that much attention, but there's going to be a lot less time spent on him if his mothers are being all goopy and always finding each other, or whatever the hell grownups do when they date.

Maybe one day they'll tell him, because Henry thinks some day he might like to try dating with Paige. She totally didn't tattle all the times he pulled her pigtails and went running to tell Nicholas about it, so Henry's pretty sure that counts for something.

Except no one is going to want to date the Dark One. Well, except Belle and she's pretty much crazy.

"We've got a surprise for you," Emma says, when Henry accepts a hug from Mom and then from her. "You're not having dinner with us tonight."

"Neal is here," Mom says, and she's smiling in that fake way she has that makes Henry's heart feel like it's going to fall into his tummy. But the thought of his dad actually showing up to see him is more than Henry can pretend not to care about.

"He is? Cool!"

"So, we're going to take you to Granny's, and you guys can hang out for a while, okay?"

"I can walk myself you know."

"Well," Emma argues. "I'm actually just going to get some decent hot chocolate, so don't flatter yourself, kid."

"Then why's Mom coming too?" Henry demands. "Are you two on a date?"

"Henry!" Mom scolds, but it's totally worth it. Worth it to be talking about stuff that families talk about instead of how doomed they all are and how Henry is basically the devil now or something; he doesn't like them thinking about him that way.

"Yeah, yeah," he sighs. "Come on, I wanna see my dad."

He takes off running, and laughs when they start jogging after him. This is going to be fun.

"You sure this is a good idea?" Emma asks as they watch from across the street, seeing Henry run into the dinner and practically tackle Neal to the ground with a hug.

"He's your ex," Regina points out, arms folded across her chest. "You tell me."

"Don't get jealous," Emma mocks. "Don't want you turning into the Wicked Witch of the West on me."

"Firstly, I'm not jealous. And secondly, Elphaba's skin condition is a cautionary tale about irresponsible people experimenting with potions they don't understand."

"You really know how to suck the joy out of a one-liner, don't you?"

"I try."

"So, I guess we're free for a few hours."

"I'm sure you have lots to catch up on," Regina says, her eyes never leaving the diner window.

"Well, I have an empty apartment. And this whipped cream that I got at the store. But yeah, maybe I should go do some paperwork."

"You're propositioning me in the middle of Main Street?" Regina hisses from the corner of her mouth.

"Yeah," Emma replies. "I guess I am."

"Hmm," Regina looks away from the window at last, and when she stares Emma down, she's practically licking her lips.

"Is the cream organic?"

It takes Emma forever to answer the phone, and when she does she's really out of breath. She doesn't usually go running after dark.

"Hey," Henry says. "Can I stay overnight with Dad at Granny's? He says he can drop me at school in the morning."

"Sure," Emma agrees, just a little too quickly. "But make sure he gets you there on time, kid. Tell Neal I know how he is about being punctual."

"Yeah," Henry agrees. "Love you, see you tomorrow."

"Love you too," Emma says after a moment, and it sounds like it took her by surprise and she kinda mumbles it, but it's still nice to hear. Henry ends the call and tucks the phone back in his backpack. He settles down in his hiding place opposite the mines, waiting for the late shift to end.

So Dad doesn't think he can spend time around magic again, huh? Well, Henry will fix that once and for all.

Regina's hovering by the stove in Emma's bathrobe, poking at the frittata that smells freaking amazing. If she'd known all this time that you could do these things with a few vegetables and some herbs, Emma might not have lived on ramen for quite so damn long.

"Henry's okay?"

"Yeah," Emma confirms. "Sounds like boy bonding time. Neal will probably let him stay up too late, and we'll have a crankypants to deal with after his long day at school tomorrow, but better than the alternative, right?"

"He could just as easily come home. There's no need for sleepovers in a town this size."

"What happened to not looking for a fight with Henry if we don't have to?"

"Fine," Regina sighs. "Get some plates, could you?"

"Say 'please', could you?" Emma fires back, and given the last time she made Regina say 'please', it's satisfying to see the blush creep over Regina's face. It turns out someone is very ticklish, especially when Emma writes her name in whipped cream and licks it from Regina's hipbones, or her breasts.

"Get some plates, please," Regina amends. "Your Highness."

"Ew," Emma says as she opens the cupboard and retrieves two plates that actually match. "Doesn't matter who says it, those words still don't fit me."

"Neither does seeing the same person more than once, and yet here I am, making you dinner again. We don't even have Henry as an excuse."

"Yeah," Emma says, backing up against the counter slowly. If Regina is working through her feelings, even in a magic-free space it's wise to keep a safe distance. "Guess some things are just worth a second shot after all."

"You mean the sex? I think that counted as the fifth, not the second."

"Of course you keep score," Emma groans. "But when we… when it's us doing… that, I feel normal again. It's good, yeah, but it's that I get to be Emma again. I get to do something I understand, and I'm not suddenly gonna suck at it."

"You definitely don't suck at it," Regina concedes, and as compliments go that's practically gushing for her. "And don't think you can take all the credit, but I think this is the first time I've enjoyed it… that I've enjoyed sex for what it is. No power games. No obligation."

"The other day, when I came up behind you and you lashed out—"

"Don't be dense, Miss Swan," Regina snaps. "You already know the answer, or you wouldn't be able to form the question."

"I'm trying to be respectful."

"And I'm not going to let you pity me. So save the Bambi eyes and tender questioning for someone else. What's done is done."

"Wait," Emma can't help herself, she changes the subject. "You didn't do Bambi's mom, right? That's not one of yours?"

"Graham," Regina says tightly. "He was a huntsman, after all."

The frittata is on the plate now, but Regina is still gripping the pan hard enough that it looks like the skin on her knuckles might split. Sink or swim, Emma decides. She's been kidding herself to call this 'just sex'. You don't obsess over someone for a year and then get it out of your system with a few good fucks and the liberal application of dairy products.

She steps in closer, pries the pan from Regina's hand, and places the pan back on the stove because nobody wants hot metal to the side of the head. And in maybe the most awkward move of her life, Emma slips her arms around Regina's waist from behind, and rests her chin on Regina's shoulder.

"If they hurt you… the ones who hurt you. Maybe it's all this magic and co-mommy stuff, but I want to rip their throats out."

"Messier than a heart," Regina says in a choked voice. "And all of them are dead, now."

"You've done some terrible things," Emma sighs. "But I can't help thinking some of them might be justified."

"Spare me the Charming forgiveness, Emma," Regina says, and she wriggles for a moment before changing her mind and settling into Emma's hold. "When this lust fades, you'll go back to wanting my head on a spike."

"Okay, no Game of Thrones marathon for you," Emma teases. She should be panicking at this closeness, this easy intimacy that seems to grow every time they pull each other into orbit, but it's like a cold drink on a hot day, and Emma didn't realize how goddamn thirsty she's been her whole life. "I'm not ignoring your past, Regina. I'm not saying it won't cause a fuckton of problems, not least with my parents. But I think this is making both of us feel better. You get why I don't want to stop?"

"You don't?" Regina whispers. "Idiocy really must be genetic. God help our son."

"I'm not naïve," Emma says, turning Regina around easily so they face each other. "I know this doesn't end with a white picket fence and a Labradoodle. But I'm tired of the goddamn greater good, aren't you? I have to save everyone, so why can't I have this for myself?"

"You don't get to 'have' me," Regina counters, her eyes hardening. The warmth deserts them, and they're almost completely black as she stares Emma down. "I'm nobody's possession."

"You know what I mean," Emma says, and because she's always going to fail when it comes to words, she tries to say it with a kiss instead. The moment's resistance from Regina is enough to make Emma stop, but then Regina is clutching at blonde hair and pulling Emma back and yeah, they're good at this. "So, omelet?" Emma asks when they part, a little breathless.

"Frittata," Regina corrects. "And fine. The sooner we eat, the sooner we go back to bed."

It's careless to let Regina answer the door, but she's way more dressed than Emma and close enough that the damn thing is opening before Emma can remind her not to.

Neal stands there, hand still in the air from knocking. He looks at Regina, then looks at Emma who's only in jeans and a bra, and he may not be a genius but he puts it together quickly enough.

"Don't start," Emma warns. "Is Henry outside? Or did you drop him off at school this early?"

"What are you talking about?" Neal replies. "I dropped him off here last night."

"Uh, no," Emma says, pulling her black-and-white baseball tee on. "You think we'd be running around like this with the kid sleeping here?"

"Where is my son, Baelfire?" Regina demands, and she lashes out to magic slam him against the wall, but of course there's nothing doing. Emma would snicker if she weren't chilled with sudden panic.

"He said he had to get home in time," Neal says. "I swear, I saw him walk in the front door before I drove off."

"And you didn't piece together that he could wait in the hall? Jesus, Neal. Suck harder at being a dad, could you?"

"Hey! Whose fault is it I'm not exactly experienced at this crap?"

"This isn't helping," Regina says, playing the reluctant peacemaker. "We have to find him. Let's pray he hasn't made it out of town again."

"You got a way to track him?" Emma asks, grabbing her phone and keys. She hesitates for a second, before jogging over to the kitchen.

"Once we're outside, yes," Regina replies, pulling her coat on and grabbing her purse. She looks up in time to see Emma open the safe. "No, Emma. No!"

"Can't risk it," Emma says. "The kid is obviously trying to skip out on us. We're gonna ring my parents, check he's not there. But he'd have no reason to lie about that. And then we're organizing a search."

"He might just be upset," Regina pleads. "Don't use that on him."

"You can try using it now," Neal suggests. "Tell him to come home right away."

"He'll only run again if we force him," Emma points out. "And what if he's hurt? What if someone who knows was waiting here for him?"

"Don't you think you two would have heard someone lurking in the hall?" Neal demands. "Oh, right," he amends as Emma feels her face heat up and Regina averts her gaze.

"Let's move," Regina insists. "Henry needs us, not a discussion of what happened last night."

"Lead the way," Emma says, shoving the dagger into the inside pocket of her jacket.