keeperofwords: Henry wants to make Gina breakfast in bed to show how much he loves her, begs Emma to help him because he wants to do something besides cereal (problem, Emma is not any better a cook than Henry).

Master Chef

"Mom,"

Emma woke up to the sound of her ten year old, whispering in her face on her side of the bed. She didn't want to wake up. Keeping her eyes shut, she took a long, deep breath. "Mommmm..." Henry pleaded with her now and started to shake her shoulder.

"What….?" Emma whispered, whining. "Go back to sleep…" she opened one eye and saw that her clock read 7 a.m. It was a Saturday.

"Get up, I need your help with something." He begged, his voice still low.

"Why are we whispering?!" Emma asked, her tone remaining hushed in case the reason for whispering was important.

"I don't wanna wake Ma up. You gotta come alone." Henry said.

"Is whatever this is going to upset me?" Emma groaned, imagining the worst. Flying monkeys in the living room. Beanstalks in the backyard. Regina's poison apple tree spoiling.

"Shhh!" Henry warned. "You'll wake Ma!"

"Why can't she-"

"Come onnnnn," he pulled on her arm and literally dragged her out of bed, rushing out the bedroom door afterwards. Emma landed on her hands and knees with a huff of protest and moved her hair out of her eyes so she could stand. Despite not wanting to wake Regina, she woke anyways.

"What the hell are you doing?" Regina's voice was rough from sleep and she sat up, and amused smirk on her face as she glanced down over the edge of the bed and saw her wife on the floor.

"Um, what does it look like I'm doing? I'm searching the floor for the shirt I took off yesterday…" Emma lied, sitting up on her knees. "I couldn't find it."

"Well you wouldn't, would you, if you were looking on the floor." Regina pointed out with a curious, raised eyebrow. Her wife was such a weirdo sometimes. And such a bad liar for someone who can always tell when others are lying. "It's in the hamper dear. You know, considering you wore it yesterday."

"Right." Emma stood, realizing it didn't really matter if Regina woke up, it just mattered if she came downstairs before Henry finished what he needed to do. "Right. I knew that." She placed a kiss to Regina's forehead. "Go back to sleep. Henry wants me for something but he doesn't want you out there."

Slightly hurt, Regina blinked in thought, scrunching her eyebrows innocently. "Why not?"

Emma immediately felt guilty for wording that in the way that she did. She was sure it had nothing to do with Henry wanting Emma to be there over Regina. "Maybe he wants to do something special for you." Emma suggested, sure that was what was going on. "But stay here until we come and get you, okay? He seems to be really excited about this, I don't want to ruin it for him."

With a sigh, Regina sat up and stretched. "Fine," she agreed. "I have paperwork to do anyways…as do you, Sheriff." She reminded her wife with a pointed look.

"Priorities," Emma waved her hand with a little giggle and blew Regina another kiss before rushing out the door, as Henry was screaming at her from the bottom of the staircase:

"LET'S GET A MOVE ON, YOU ARE SO SLOW!" because he knew that by now Regina had to be awake, so his yelling wouldn't make a difference. Hopefully she would just stay in the bedroom like he planned. "HOW CAN YOU BE THE SAVIOR WHEN YOU CAN'T EVEN GET DOWN TO THE KITCHEN IN A TIMELY MATTER?!"

Emma chuckled and took the stairs two at a time before jumping off of the last one and landing with jazz hands and a goofy grin. Henry was not amused. Dropping her hands to her sides, Emma sighed. "Okay, kid. I'm here, I'm queer. What are we doing and why can't your mother know?"

"Okay," Henry led her to the kitchen and smacked his hands down on the cupboard. "I want to make mom breakfast in bed because she's been working so hard recently and I want to show her how much we appreciate it."

"Awe," Emma tousled her son's hair. "That's really sweet of you, Henry. What do you need me to supervise you making?"

Henry cocked his head to the side, curiously. "Well I mean, I was going to ask for your help to make it, since I'm only 10."

Running a hand through her hair, sheepishly, Emma winced. "Don't 10 year olds these days know how to cook yet?"

He put his hands on his hips, condescendingly. "Don't 28 year olds?" he raised a judgmental eyebrow.

Throwing her hands up in protest, Emma let out an exasperated and defensive groan. "Well no, not really! I mean, I was never taught how to cook…I usually just went out to eat! I mean I go to Granny's like every day and Regina is an incredible chef, I've not needed to learn!"

"How am I supposed to make Mom breakfast in bed if neither of us can make breakfast?!" he asked, feeling desperate.

"Trust me, kid, I'd burn down the mansion and your mother would kill me." Emma put up her hands and took a step back from the counter.

"Ugh. Well what's something easy to make…why don't we try making her caramel apple pancakes like she makes for us? That can't be too hard, right?"

Emma's eyes widened, concerned. A pan full of pancake batter on a stove with real fire? Fire that she'd be capable of burning things, i.e. houses down with? This ought to be interesting…

"Do you know how to make homemade pancakes? Regina doesn't use Bisquick like normal humans."

"Mom isn't very normal." Henry agreed. "Maybe she still has a box from when Ruby used to baby sit me? She never knew how to make pancakes either," he explained, climbing up onto the counter to reach the back cupboard. "So she bought Ruby Bisquick so she could make them because it was all I would ever eat…Aha!" he pulled it out from the back and set it down on the counter. "Let's get to pancake making. Check the fridge to make sure we still have caramel."

"I don't have to check and make sure we have apples too, do I?" Came Emma's sarcastic response.

"Ha ha." Henry replied dryly.

After Emma smacked the jar of caramel triumphantly down on the counter, Henry started mixing up the pancakes.

The first one was burned in less than two minutes. "Darn." He scrunched up his face and threw that pancake out, reaching the spatula out towards Emma. "Your turn, Savior."

Emma pressed her lips into a fine line. Okay. How hard can it be, really? She tried to give herself a pep talk. Slowly, she picked up the bowl of batter and poured some into the pan, only spilling a little bit over the stove. She watched over the pancake like a hawk. When she flipped it, the back was blackened.

"How the hell?!" She demanded, slapping the spatula down. "What'd I do wrong?!" She asked Henry with confusion.

"I don't know!" Henry said.

Smoke started to rise and Emma waved it away hurriedly, not wanting the alarm to go off and make Regina come downstairs. She poured more batter into the pan and tried again.

This next time it was slightly less burned.

"Progress!" Emma fist pumped the air. "We might just get breakfast to her by lunch, Henry."

"Doesn't that defeat the purpose?" he asked.

"Hush you, I'm trying again." Emma was determined now. She would help make her wife breakfast in bed if it was the last thing she did. And she worried, as yet another pancake was burned, that it just might be.

. . .

From upstairs, Regina's stomach growled. She had her laptop perched on her crossed legs and she took her reading glasses off, setting them on the desk to the side of her. She wanted to go downstairs and eat something, and she could tell by the burning smell wafting up through the air vents that's why Emma and Henry were downstairs to begin with—they were trying to make breakfast. Probably trying to make pancakes. She reasoned. That's very sweet of them. But if they burn my house down I am going to have to kill them.

Almost as if on cue, the fire alarm went off. With a sigh, Regina shut her laptop and pushed it to the side, climbing out of bed and heading to the top of the staircase.

"Emma Swan, Henry Mills, I swear to god if I come downstairs and my kitchen is on fire…" she warned.

"Don't come downstairs, everything is under control!" Emma called back, not sounding like she had anything under control. A pot clambered to the floor and the sound echoed throughout the house. The bowl with batter smashed and the batter got all over the floor.

"Mom!" Henry complained. "Mom's going to kill you."

"Shhh!" Emma begged.

"That's it, you two." Regina warned, "I'm coming down the stairs."

She waited for a response. Henry sighed in defeat. "Okay. Come on down."

Regina did so, wrapping her silk black robe around her as she did so and crossing her arms over her chest. An amused smirk spread across her lips as she saw what was truly going on in her kitchen. Five burned pancakes laid in a stack on a plate on the island in the middle of the room. A bowl was smashed with pancake batter everywhere. A box of Bisquick was spilled all over the counter. Henry and Emma were both covered in it. Smoke was rolling up to the ceiling and was still making the alarm blare. Emma turned around and smiled nervously at her wife.

"Good morning, hun." She said, feeling a little guilty.

"What are you doing?" Regina laughed.

"We're making breakfast?" Emma shrugged.

Regina couldn't be mad at these two adorable goofballs. How could she? Even if they'd messed up her kitchen, they did it because they had been trying to make her breakfast. AND they both had adorable guilty smiles on their faces.

She shook her head and laughed again. "Do you want me to make pancakes for breakfast?" she asked.

"Please?" Henry asked. "We're starving. I can't make pancakes. Pongo could cook better than mom—"

"Hey!" Emma pointed the spatula at Henry in a very slightly threatening fashion.

With an eye roll, Regina took the spatula over and grabbed the Bisquick, or, what was left of it. On any other day she would make them homemade, but they'd already gotten Bisquick all over the place and she figured she might as well just finish it off.

"Henry, do you think you and Emma could cut some apples up without losing limbs?" she asked for assistance.

The two got to doing so and Henry started apologizing. "We just wanted to make you breakfast in bed," he sighed. "I guess Emma and I have some learning to do."

"I suppose I'll have to train the two of you in the culinary arts then, huh?" Regina smiled that adorable, loving smile that she gave to the two most important people in her life. "Although Emma may need a bit more training than you, Henry." She commented, watching Henry slice apples with ease whilst Emma struggled not to cut herself. "I think your mother may be too clumsy. We might have to start her off small." She teased.

Emma stuck her tongue out at Regina.

"Real mature," Regina laughed, handing a stack of pancakes to her wife and tossing the burned ones out. They added apples and drizzles of caramel to the top. Whether or not the breakfast was in bed didn't matter. They were eating a yummy apple pancake breakfast together as a family. And that was something they were excited to have.