Surprise :D Hey guys, so I know it's been awhile...but I'm here now ;) At least, I am with this chapter. I'm really sorry about the four month wait...as it is, you guys probably wanted to murder me for the dragging nature of this story. I needed a writing break from this to gain some perspective...plus, I got busy with life stuff...responsibilities...the things I gotta do to make sure that I actually have a big person, grown-up job one day, you know. :D :O Anyway, again, many apologies and I sincerely appreciate the dedication, thoughts, views, critiques, etc. from my readers who have all patiently hung in there with me. Your reviews and support brighten my day and make me feel like I'm a part of this wonderful community of SWEN.

I'll try to keep some updates coming in-between grad school application stuff. In the meantime, enjoy the chapter!


Three hours ago, Emma never would have imagined herself in Regina's kitchen with Kate—unless perhaps there was a knife stuck in one of their sides. Or maybe if her hair was on fire. Yeah, she could easily see that if she squinted her mind's eye a bit. But as she carefully poured the tinted bottle of vanilla extract onto the teaspoon, she never figured she'd be here making cookies with the both of them.

"One teaspoon, right, Henry?"

"Yeah," he answered, his finger scanning over the recipe.

Emma added it in and then threw the set of measuring spoons in the sink. "You want to stir?"

Both women looked up at the request, thinking it was directed at them. Emma put her palm to her forehead. The last thing she needed was Regina and Kate fighting over who got to mix the batter which was of course a subliminal metaphor for who had control over her.

"Kate, dear, why don't you do that while I go get the cookie sheets from the pantry," Regina suggested, full of smiles. She then pointed to Emma. "After, you can roll the dough." She winked casually. "You're good with a rolling pin, as I recall—"

Without another word, Regina slipped off to the other room in search of the trays. Kate began stirring while Emma bent down to grab the rolling pin from one of the cupboards. They moved for a few moments in silence before bursting. The issue at hand needed to be addressed.

"Okay, this is weird as shit, right?" Kate finally asked when Emma placed the rolling pin on the counter.

Emma looked down at the dough. "Yeah. Uh huh…," she quickly blurted out, "probably even a bit weirder."

Kate kept stirring the mixture together. She glanced up for a moment, to make sure Henry was preoccupied in his search for the cookie cutters. "I mean, she doesn't like me, Em," she said. "Sure, she tolerates me for appearance sake, but you said yourself that she usually refers to me as the 'jailbait harlot'," she sighed. "And now we're baking cookies with her? She's acting strange, Emma."

"No," Emma said, shaking her head. She reached her hand into the bowl, checking for consistency. "She's acting like Betty Crocker—but right before she snaps, kills her family and pulls a Sylvia Plath."

Kate shot her head up in concern. "She doesn't have a gas stove, does she?"

"No, dear, I don't," Regina suddenly said as she carried the trays back into the kitchen, startling the two of them. "I wish I did, but sadly, it's electric."

Emma slapped Kate's shoulder, both of them not sure whether Regina had heard the prior commentary. If she had, she was ignoring it—well, at least verbally. Both women jumped as Regina slammed the trays down on the table. Regina stuck her own finger into the dough as they moved back.

"Perfect," she said, sprinkling flour on the counter. "Start rolling."

And so Emma did. She rolled the mound of dough down to a thin, smoothed sheet. Henry came over with a bunch of cookie cutters, eager to start. He began right away, working on his little project. Emma was certain he was aware that the tension in the room could be cut with a knife. But he was doing his best to avoid it.

They all followed Henry's model. The four of them stood, shoulder to shoulder, pressing away their own shapes into the single sheet of dough. It was relatively silent, other than one of them complimenting Henry for his. But something about the stillness eased some of this nerve wracking uncertainty of what they were doing—at least for the moment.

When they were finally done, Regina put on oven mittens and set the trays in to cook. Henry stretched and yawned as Emma began washing the bowls in the sink. They continued on with their silence until they heard whimpering.

Blue came out into the kitchen, holding his leash in his mouth. Kate instantly came over to him, patting him on the head.

"Aw, boy," she cooed, and then looked over to Emma. "You want Mama to take you out?"

"He just went out a little while ago," Emma said, not wanting to waste any time she had with Regina.

"He has to go—he's a puppy." Kate took the leash from the dog's mouth as he yipped. "You wanna go outside boy? Yeah? Go see Mama," she said, trying more to convince Emma. "She'll take you."

Blue barked happily at the sound of the word 'Mama'. Kate was pleased, momentarily, as he seemed to understand the name she'd assigned to Emma. But when she saw who the pup actually went to, her self-satisfied grin vanished.

Regina felt Blue's cold nose brush against her leg as he nudged her. She looked down and ruffled his fur. Kate shook her head. "No Blue," she tried to reiterate, "I said Mama—not Regina!"

Blue simply nudged Regina again and barked happily. Emma glanced over at her dog. She smiled—she knew that happy-go-lucky pant—he understood Kate. 'Mama' just had a very different meaning to him.

Regina couldn't help but laugh. "As much as I would love to take you for a walk," she said, pointing out her feet, "I'm wearing heels and you would certainly make me trip. Emma?"

"Ugh," the blonde groaned. "I can't—I—"

"She has to help me with my homework!" Henry cried out of nowhere. Emma saw the glint in his eye and instantly knew she was grateful for her sneaky little shit of a son.

"Weren't you supposed to have that done by the time I came home, Mister?" Regina scolded.

"Yeah, but you came home early!"

Regina stared at her son, focusing intently on his face. The corners of her mouth turned upright. She was no stranger to this little mirage of his.

"Very well," Regina said, turning back to the pup, "I guess you'll have to wait, dear."

Kate took the leash and walked over to hook him up. "No, I got it." She turned back around and led the dog toward the front door. "Be back soon, babe," she said, kissing Emma on the forehead. She then turned back to Regina, while pointing to the blonde. "And don't let this one near the stove, Regina, unless you want the cookies to burn."

Regina waved playfully to Blue. "Oh, I'm fully aware of Emma's lack of cooking abilities, dear."

Silence resumed in the moments after the front door shut. The two of them moved graciously about the kitchen, cleaning as they went. Henry, without needing to say a word, slipped upstairs. No one had even questioned his homework excuse as they all knew what it really was. As Emma continued washing the bowls, she bit down hard on her lip, trying to think of what else she could say in the moment they had alone.

But it was Regina who found words to say first.

"You know I meant it, right?" she asked. Emma turned her head, unsure of what was meant. Regina sighed. "When I said that you don't owe me anything—"

"Regina—"

"Henry on the other hand—," she added, as she stopped herself from wiping the counter. "When were you planning on telling him that you were going to up and leave?"

Emma put down the sponge and turned around. "Regina—"

The brunette laughed, still masquerading as if the news wasn't hurting her on a personal level. The bit of anger she allowed herself to show could easily be played off as the dedication she felt for her son—to fight for his right to have both parents present in his life rather than having one of them dallying with a young girl in Europe.

She folded her arms close to her chest and leaned against the counter. "Really, were you going to send him a post card with a picture of Big Ben and break it to him that way?!"

"Regina—"

"I mean, I know that you're not used to being held accountable for your actions, but I never thought you'd abandon him," she continued, "after all the promises you made."

Regina didn't need to yell. She didn't need to cry. She didn't need to use her name instead of Henry's. She didn't need to do any of this for Emma to believe this was about them.

Emma wiped her wet hands on her jeans and then pressed them to Regina's arms. The brunette just sank her head down to her chest, not wanting to show her own weakness.

"You know I'm not going, right?" Emma asked.

Regina couldn't bear to lift her face. She only managed a small whisper. "How am I supposed to know that when I've never been able to trust you to not walk out on me?"

Her words ran deep and cut beyond the last couple of months. Emma felt a pain curdle in her chest, knowing Regina was right—she hadn't exactly proven herself as reliable. She reached out to lift Regina's chin. She just needed to lock eyes with her for a moment to show her she was serious. But before they could, before Regina's vulnerability was unveiled, they heard the pattering of four paws and two feet.

"He just had to pee I guess," Kate said as she followed him into the kitchen. "He started running back this way as soon as he did."

The younger girl was too busy unleashing the pup to realize the proximity between Emma and Regina. Regina broke the distance, quickly glancing at the time on the stove.

"Well, you're just in time," she said as she put on the oven mittens. "The cookies are ready and we should be able to decorate them soon." She turned to Emma. "Call Henry so we can start on the tree?"

"Did you guys finish with his homework?"

"Huh?"

Kate rolled her eyes. "You and Henry—he needed help, yes?"

"They just finished," Regina interjected, giving a ghastly glare to the blonde. "Henry just went upstairs to put his books back in his bag."

"Right," Emma said, nodding.

It didn't take much for Regina to slip back into her carefully executed façade. As soon as the cookies were on the cooling tray, she was all smiles, just as she was before. The frown that she hid from Emma in their moment alone was once again buried under an overjoyed Regina—a fake, glowing goddess of a homemaker and gracious host that frightened the blonde and her girlfriend. She even trusted Kate to hold her glass ornaments as they decorated the tree.

Emma couldn't help but wonder—when were the sassy comments going to fly out? When was she going to make a snide remark about Kate being young enough to believe in Santa, or maybe a joke that she was one of his special little helpers for those late nights at the North Pole? She glanced at the brunette, who was busy laughing away, telling the younger woman about Henry's second Christmas when he was teething and tried chewing the bulbs. What the hell was this madness? Emma shook her head. She knew better. This was a carefully played illusion. There was no way Regina was cool with having Kate around. She was certain she would snap. It was just a matter of when.

While she didn't snap, decorating the cookies most definitely caused a big crack.

Kate was humming to herself as she piped on icing buttons to the little gingerbread man in front of her. She looked around the table, as if searching for something. Instantly, as if she read her mind, Regina handed her a tube full of purple icing.

This has to be it—Emma thought.

"For the hair," she suggested, calmly as she smiled. "I imagine you'll want a more…punky gingerbread person."

"Uh, thanks," Kate said, taking the tube and returning the smile.

Nothing. What the hell?

Emma decided to turn her attention back to her own little guy. She grinned to herself as she began decorating the shield of the knight she had made. It was of course paying homage to herself as the savior. Henry glanced over.

"Nice, Ma!" he said.

"Thanks, kid."

She was so busy adding biceps to the cookie's arms that she nearly missed Henry's expression upon seeing the cookie that Regina was meticulously slaving away over.

"Whoa, that's—," Henry gasped, "—I don't know what that is. Mom, what are you making?"

Emma and Kate both stopped working on their cookies to examine Regina's masterpiece. With one look, the blonde gulped. She saw a gingerbread woman—that much was made apparent not by the traditional skirt, but rather by the long, blonde icing hair. The little figure wore blue frosted 'jeans' and a red piped on 'jacket'. Emma looked up to the cookie effigy's face, searching for the depiction of her own green eyes. She nearly cried out in fear when instead of green dots, she saw black exes.

"What the hell?!"

She then looked over at Regina to see her grinning as she carefully molded a piece of fondant with her fingers.

"Oooh, what are you making, Regina?" Kate asked, trying to peer over to see.

Without so much as a look toward them, Regina kept crafting as she answered. "Well, Kate, you see, gingerbread men remind me of voodoo dolls," she said simply. Emma watched her as she carefully attached the fondant piece to the body of the cookie, now realizing it was a carefully sculpted pin needle.

"Call it my old ways, call it therapy—really, whatever you like, dear," Regina continued.

Emma was a bit disgusted that Kate seemed to be enthralled rather than horrified by the image of her ex making a gingerbread voodoo doll of her. Was she fucking blind? Her eyes grew wide with intrigue. She laughed a bit. "So what did this little one do to deserve the needles?" she asked.

Regina smiled and looked up at Emma, and then to Kate. "Well you see, this little gingerbread person was a liar." She narrowed her eyes with a fixed scowl as she told the 'allegedly' imagined story. "She promised her lover that she'd come back to her—but instead, she was very naughty—she was unreliable and went back on her word."

Kate gave a theatrical gasp, amused by the details. "That's awful!" she cried, as she reached for a piece of the fondant. She carefully rolled it into a coil with a pointy tip, and grabbed the blonde cookie. "I say we add more needles!"

Regina grinned widely, unable to help herself as she stared at Emma. "I couldn't agree more, dear."

That was it. Regina hadn't snapped. She had managed to crack and vent her anger right in front of them without making a scene. The blonde was so dumbfounded as she watched her girlfriend and ex play. Regina had successfully managed to encourage her girlfriend to defile and destroy a cookie version of the woman they had in common, without her even knowing. How was such manipulation even possible?

It was dark by the time they'd finished decorating the cookies. Regina packed a few of the less violent ones in a container for them to take home. She was saving the voodoo doll for herself. Henry leashed up Blue, much to the pup's resistance. Just as he was about to hug Emma goodbye, he tripped, and on the way down, banged his chin on the corner of the kitchen counter.

"Henry!" came the unison cry from all three adults in the room, joined by a worried yip from Blue.

Emma flipped him over to face them as Regina bent down as well. Blood was everywhere.

"Henry, are you okay?!" Emma cried. She looked over to Henry's other side. "'Gina, get me a towel."

But Regina froze. It wasn't as if the sight of blood alarmed her. God knows she'd bandaged enough cuts and scrapes over the years. But for some reason, she remained paralyzed. It reminded her of the time when Henry was almost two. The babysitter had left the gate on the top of the stairs opened before she left. Regina didn't realize this until she heard the horrible sounds of tumbling followed by screaming all the way in her study. It was the first time she didn't know exactly what to do in such a serious circumstance. But she'd dealt with plenty since then. She yelled at herself in her head, unsure why she wasn't moving.

"Regina?!""

"I got it."

Before she even knew what was happening, she was watching Kate fly back to Henry's side with a wet towel and a medical kit. She remained still, in a trance of sorts as she watched the young girl work effortlessly to patch up her son. The sounds of "This might sting a little," and questions like, "Do you think he needs stitches?" were all white, blurry noise to her. It wasn't until Henry sat up and Kate said something in a soothing voice that Regina snapped back into it.

"There, all better, kiddo," she said as she ruffled his hair.

"Thanks, Kate!"

"Sure thing," Kate said, as she gently kissed his forehead.

Regina watched in awe as Henry smiled at her. It was much like the way he did whenever she nursed his wounds. There was more than gratitude in his eyes—there was love. Love for a person who cared enough to take care of him. And in Kate's eyes, she saw the same kind of love—that rare, selfless love that one only feels when they'd do anything for another person. And that was when Regina's mind wandered. That was also the love of someone who was going to be around long enough to take care of him.

"Regina?"

She whipped her head over to Emma, who had called to her again. Confused looks were exchanged for a moment, but Regina quickly turned her face back to a relieved smile.

"You okay?" Emma asked. "You seemed out of it for a minute there."

"Yes," she said, getting herself up off of the floor. She turned to Henry. "Are you alright, Henry?"

"I'm fine, Mom."

Kate returned to the kitchen, having put the medical kit back in the cabinet. She motioned to pick up Emma's bag. "Well, now that he's all set, shall we get going?"

Emma turned to face Kate. "Uh, yeah," she said. "You head on out. I'm driving the bug anyway, so I'll meet you at the apartment."

Kate came in close and leaned in for a kiss. "See you at home, babe." Emma silently nodded as her girlfriend walked away.

Regina turned away, and instead focused on Henry. "Are you really okay, Sweetheart?" she asked as she rubbed his shoulders.

"Yeah, it doesn't even really hurt," he said. He quickly glanced to Emma and then back to his mother. "I think I am going to go rest though."

"Alright." She kissed his forehead and Emma patted him on the back. Henry practically galloped up the stairs.

The only thing left was the two of them, standing just a foot away, not saying anything at all.

Emma finally lifted her arm to throw on her jacket. "You know," she said, as she pushed one arm through the sleeve, "I imagined this weekend somewhat different from the way it turned out."

Regina said nothing. Instead, she walked her to the door. Her head remained down as she followed Emma out onto the porch.

Emma turned around, pouting slightly. "I really wish today hadn't gone like this."

"Me too," Regina said, "but it did. And that changes things—"

"What do you mean?"

Regina was silent again. Her mind was caught. Emma assumed she was focused on her anger that has still yet to boil over. But the brunette was thinking not of Emma, but Henry and that tiny expression he had made.

"I mean, some of the weekend has made me reconsider certain things."

Emma dropped her mouth open slightly. "You don't mean—?" Regina simply raised an eyebrow.

"Regina, you'll be on that bench, won't you?"

Again, nothing.

"Regina! After all of this!" the blonde cried out. "All this damn back and fucking forth?! Yes—I know I've screwed this up—many times. But no, you can't—"

"No," Regina spat back, "you don't get to speak. You don't get to do anything."

It was cold. Much like the day years ago when she'd reaffirmed that Henry was her son. And while this wasn't entirely about Henry anymore, what had changed brought his welfare back to the surface.

Regina realized she'd uttered those words before, and with the revelation came a softened tone. She tilted her chin down once more. "I can't keep doing this. I don't trust you," she said softly. She didn't need to look up to see Emma was devastated.

Regina looked up once more, smiling to break the tension. She carefully recalled the conversation from years before and repeated them, in jest. "I suggest you get in your car and you leave this town, because if you don't," she said, staring straight at Emma, "I will destroy you if it is the last thing I do—or, at the very least, say some things that I don't really want to say, Emma."

Somehow, amidst the sorrowful goodbye, Regina had managed to make things bearable. She gently touched Emma's shoulder, fondly at first, but then added the necessary push. Emma gave a sad smile as she led Blue down the path once more and climbed into the bug.

As she watched Emma drive away, Regina held a hand to her chest and let the tears tumble down. She knew Emma meant every word. This had nothing to do with trust—well, at least not with trusting Emma. This was about trusting herself.