Emma knew she had to tell her parents about her moving plans sooner or later, but she told herself that she couldn't spring this on her poor parents so soon after coming home from a longer trip to Spain. So she decided to wait. Seriously, if she told them right away, they would be devastated. She had to be gentle and delicate about this. And she needed time to figure out exactly what she was going to say to them.

So she waited. Two days. Which quickly became three days. Then four. Then a week. That morning, Emma woke up to an alert on her phone, telling her that Regina was now seventeen weeks pregnant. Seventeen weeks. It seemed like such a long time and at the same time, no time at all. According to the update, 'Blueberry' had morphed into a pomegranate. That made Emma grin a bit to herself. A pomegranate. That was a bit funny. Blueberry was now about 5.1 inches long and weighed about 5.9 ounces. Last week Blueberry had measured 4.6 inches and had weighed 3.5 ounces, Emma remembered that, and she was impressed. Wow. That was some growth spurt Blueberry had taken. Maybe she should ask Regina to stand up during their next Skype session. Just so Emma could see if Blueberry's growth spurt was noticeable. Emma continued her reading. Regina was four months pregnant, but it was a bit confusing because 'a pregnancy is technically longer than nine months' and bla-bla-bla, that's why doctors tracked the pregnancy in weeks and not months. Emma decided that she would do the same. Regina was seventeen weeks pregnant. Period. She proceeded to read about symptoms. A few of them would probably have made Regina feel embarrassed, but Emma couldn't see anything embarrassing about it. Regina was supposed to have weird dreams this week. Gain more weight. Experience itchy boobs and belly. Oh. Well that sounded annoying. Emma made a sound when she acknowledged that she couldn't be there to rub cream onto Regina's skin if that was what she needed. And then there was the stretch marks. Apparently, those were supposed to show up this week. Emma knew that Regina had been particularly worried about stretch marks, but it didn't matter to Emma. She would always find Regina sexy no matter what. And she was certain that she'd rock her new tiger stripes if and when they showed up on her skin.

So what was up with baby this week? Emma readjusted herself in bed to lie a little better as she kept on reading. Blueberry's rubbery cartilage was turning into bone. And growing some meat on those bones. Meaning that Blueberry was growing some fat. Growing stronger. The umbilical cord was thickening as well. Blueberry's heart was beating with 140 to 150 beats per minute. Twice as fast as Regina's. Blueberry was practicing his/hers sucking and swallowing skills. Fingerprints were developing.

Emma smiled. And particularly when reading something very cute. Blueberry was about the size of a palm. Aww. That was adorable! And then of course there were those blasted 'quickening's'. Meaning that Regina might be able to feel Blueberry move soon. Damnit! Supposed it started this week and Emma wasn't there for it? She knew that she wouldn't be able to feel it for a little while yet, but still, she wanted to be there to gasp and shriek if Regina announced that she could feel something.

"Fuck long distance," Emma said earnestly as she rolled onto her back. Regina would probably agree with her. But she was doing fine. She had been laughing a lot when they skyped last night. Thank god. Regina really seemed to have gotten her mood back after the whole thing with Robin's surprise appearance. Emma was relieved. She preferred 'her girl' to be happy. Regina didn't need anymore bad news right now. Not in her condition. Seventeen weeks pregnant. God, Emma couldn't wait to Skype with Regina later. She missed seeing her pretty face. She had been swamped with work yesterday, first a wedding (the bride had looked stunning, and the groom teary-eyed, perfect), and for the rest of the night, Emma had pretty much been stuck in the darkroom. There was plenty of work to get started on after her little detour to Spain. But even though Emma obviously was glad about having something to do, there had been this feeling in her chest. This nagging sensation telling her that what she was doing wasn't fulfilling. That she could be doing things that were more exciting than being a wedding photographer. There had been so many weddings lately, and it seemed like that particular event was turning into 'her' gig. It was good money. It was. And the atmosphere at a wedding was always awesome. Happy people. A bride and groom who often asked her to stay for a slice of cake. Yes, being the wedding photographer was nice. But that was it. It was nice. And nothing more. Her excitement about her job wasn't blowing through the roof when she came home like it once had. And that wasn't right. Emma wanted more. Last night she had dreamed about California again. She had dreamed about that little beach house in Laguna Beach yet again. Had dreamed about getting out of bed early to get some shots of the sunrise. And after that, the dream had turned a bit unrealistic, to say the last. Because in the dream, Emma had looked at the waves, and out of the crystal blue water, a siren with long dark hair and dark eyes had emerged. A siren with a round and prominent belly. And a craving for strawberries. Emma had laughed loudly when she woke up, thoroughly amused by how reality had been bleeding through. Maybe Regina wasn't a siren with the ability to walk out of the water, but she did have a craving for strawberries. She had been munching on one during their last skype session. From cream soda to bacon to strawberries. What would she crave next? Emma kinda hoped it would be pickles. Simply because it would be so wonderfully cliché and sweet. But maybe Regina was working her way through the berry section first. Which was fine. As long as she didn't start craving blueberries. That would be super weird. They had actually been joking about that last night when they had texted...

That morning, Emma woke up to a scratchy throat and nose and ears that felt rather stuffy. And she immediately knew what it was. The autumn sniffles. The September Cold. God damnit. She didn't have time to be sick. Well, technically she had because today was Sunday and she didn't have any plans, but still, this sucked! Emma coughed miserably and sat up in bed. She could feel a headache settle right behind her eyes. Crap. But hey, at least she knew how to handle this. She needed tea. Chamomile tea. And lots of it. She cursed softly under her breath as she forced her aching body out of bed. No doubt she was running a fever. Not a serious one. But one that left her sore and aching all over.

Emma stumbled downstairs where she found her mom in the middle of buttoning her coat and straightening her scarf. She turned around when Emma came half stumbling into the kitchen.

"Good morning," Emma croaked.

"Oh," her mom said. "That looks like the September sniffles."

Emma tried to laugh. It came out as a croak. "Yeah, I think it is."

Of course her mom couldn't help herself. She came over to Emma and put a hand on her forehead. "Oh, honey! You're running a fever!"

"Yeah. I know," Emma gently pushed her mom's hand away from her face. Now was one of the moments where she wished that she had her own place. She didn't need her mom to fuss over her. She could be sick on her own. She had tried it before.

"Do you need anything?" Mary Margaret said. "I could make you some t-"

"No, mom," Emma said hoarsely and would have rolled her eyes if her head didn't hurt so much. "I can make tea myself, okay? And besides, it looks like you're on your way out, isn't that right?"

"Yes," her mom nodded. "Your dad and I are going for a walk in the woods."

"Then go," Emma did her best to chuckle. "I'll just be... hibernating in my room for three days."

Mary Margaret did chuckle. "Okay then. Make yourself some tea. There's aspirin in the bathroom cabinet."

"Got it," Emma said and grinned. Because there was always aspirin in the bathroom cabinet. That hadn't changed since the last time Emma needed them.

Emma's dad came into kitchen, took one look at Emma and then went "oh. 'September sniffles'."

"Yep," Emma confirmed and turned around when she proceeded to sneeze loudly.

"Poor kiddo," David said. "Bless you."

"Thanks."

"Do you need me to buy anything for you on the way back?" Mary Margaret asked concerned. "Some chicken soup perhaps? Or some-"

"Chicken soup sounds good," Emma interrupted. "If you can find that in the forest, I'm gonna be wildly impressed."

David snickered.

"Stay warm," Mary Margaret continued as though Emma hadn't said anything. "Don't get out of bed unless you really need to, and add some extra honey to your tea! Oh, and remember to-"

"Mom. I'm twenty eight. Almost twenty nine. I THINK I got it," Emma said. Maybe it was the fever making her irritated, but right now she wished that her mom would please stop it already!

"Alright, alright, I'll stop," Mary Margaret said, holding up her hands in surrender.

"Have a nice walk," Emma said as she moved over to the kettle to make the tea.

"Feel better, kiddo," David said as he gently grasped his wife's elbow to guide her out of the kitchen. Emma was sort of grateful for that. Mary Margaret rather looked like someone who'd preferred hanging back and watching over Emma. Which was cute, but nevertheless unnecessary.

Emma put on a big smile as she waved her reluctant mother out of the kitchen. But once the front door had been closed, she coughed loudly and dryly and then made a face as she brought a hand up to rub at her chest. Ouch. That hurt. Damn autumn sniffles getting the best of her. This a hundred percent would not have happened if she had been in Spain where the weather was still nice and warm. Emma grumbled to herself and cursed at the kettle when it startled to whistle loudly. "Shut up! You're making my headache worse, you stupid asshole!". Then she croaked out a laugh. Apparently, the fever was turning her into an old sailor. At least language-wise. Yeah, she should probably try and get that under control while her parents was out on their walk.

She finished making her tea and went back upstairs. She had every intention of going back to bed, but first a trip to the bathroom was necessary. In there she tried to make her hair look at least a bit more normal. The messy (messy, messy!) bun was replaced with a side braid that looked a bit more tidy. Then she examined her face. Eyes were a bit glassy. Cheeks were a little bit pink, but nothing serious. If she stayed in bed with a cup of tea today, she would probably feel much better tomorrow.

Emma quickly brushed her teeth. Just to feel less gross. Then she grabbed a couple of aspirins from the cabinet, downed them with water straight from the tap, and half-wobbled back towards her bedroom with her cup of tea in hand.

The air in her bedroom seemed a little too cluttered, so Emma cranked a window open. Some fresh air would do her good. Wouldn't do disastrous things to her health.

She settled back in bed and grabbed her cellphone like she did every morning. And exactly like any other day, a dopey grin spread across her face as she read the sweet good morning text from Regina. She always texted Emma when she woke up, and now that Emma was awake (ish) she took the opportunity to text back. And tell Regina that she was sick. Admittedly, she did it solely because she wanted some good old fashioned sympathy from her girlfriend. She wanted Regina to go 'aww' and text her things like 'I'm sorry to hear that, querida'.

And it didn't take long before Regina did just that. Sympathy came pouring in via text. One message after the other. Regina was clearly not busy right now. Or so it seemed. Emma inquired about it: 'what are you doing right now, sweetheart?'

The response was utterly adorable. 'I'm baking.'. Emma grinned. 'Oh yeah? What are you baking?'.

'Apple turnovers. My dad is coming over later, so I figured I'd make something nice. It's been too long since I last baked. How are you feeling?'

'I feel okay. You are such a little housewife '

'Have to do something to distract myself.'

Emma raised an eyebrow as she typed. 'Distract yourself? From what, exactly? Are you okay?'

'Sí.'

'Then why do you need distraction?'

'Never mind.'

Emma coughed. Never mind? Oh, I don't think so. 'Nu-uh! Tell me!'

'Can't. It's embarrassing.'

Now Emma frowned as she took another sip of her tea. This was getting more and more mysterious. And of course she had to press the issue. 'What is it? Seriously, please tell me. Now I'm all curious. And worried.'

'Urgh!'

'Regina. Come on. Is it a pregnancy-thing? Because I already got a notification about this week's symptoms. And I can't find a single thing that makes me embarrassed or uncomfortable.'

'That app clearly goes lightly over one of the symptoms.'

'Which would be?'

Three little blue dots appeared, indicating that Regina was typing, and one mouthful of tea later, Emma had received a link to a website where pregnant women could ask questions and get answers from other readers. The headline of the letter from a particular woman read: 'help, constantly horny! What to do?!'. Oh. Emma cough-laughed as she read what Regina had written underneath the link. 'Let's just say... I can relate to this poor woman.'

'Wanna Skype?' Emma simply texted. Because she missed Regina's pretty face. And because she wanted to 'personally' tell Regina that there was absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about.

'Are you gonna laugh at me?'

'Hell no.'

'Mind if I bake while we talk?'

'Bake away, beautiful girl.'

'Okay. Grabbing my laptop right now.'

Emma put her phone aside and did the same. She hade the laptop screen come alive and then patiently waited for that familiar Skype tone. It didn't take long before Regina's picture and 'Regina calling...' appeared on the screen followed by that tone Emma had grown to love. She quickly pressed the 'accept call'-button and didn't even care that she was sick and looked like garbage. All that mattered was Regina's pretty face appearing on the screen. She had tied her dark hair back in a ponytail, and she was once again wearing an apron. Emma could see that she was in her kitchen, clearly in the process of kneading a dough.

"Hi," Emma smiled.

"Hola, querida. How are you feeling?" Regina asked. "Your cheeks are a bit pink. Do you have a fever?"

"I do, but not a bad one. I'll be back to my old self in no time, don't you worry. How are YOU feeling?"

"Pretty miserable," Regina said without skipping a beat. Then she winced and scrunched up her nose in that adorable fashion. "Sorry, that was a bit harsh. I'm okay. Meaning that I don't have any aches or pains."

"But struggling, yeah?" Emma asked softly.

Regina released a groan that seemed to have been held back for hours. Or days. "You. Have. No. Idea! I knew that the second trimester could be like that, but I had no idea that it could get so bad! It's literally the first thing I think about when I wake up, and the last thing I think about before falling asleep! ¡Creo que me estoy volviendo loco!"

"Oh," Emma said. Now she was the one to express sympathy. "I'm sorry."

Regina let out a puff. "Obviously, I can't be completely certain, but I think the second trimester is equivalent to how a teenage boy feels!" She gave the dough a solid whack that mostly looked like she was punishing it.

"So now you're baking to think about something else?" Emma guessed and let out a dry cough.

"I wish I could say that was the case," Regina sighed. "But no. I'm still thinking about sex. It's two o'clock and I've already taken one shower."

"Seriously?"

"Sí," Regina said darkly. "I made the mistake of scratching the back of my leg earlier. And that was enough to make me feel all flushed."

"Wow," Emma said and cursed the situation. Why wasn't she in Spain right now? She SHOULD be in Spain right now. So she could help out Regina. And she probably wouldn't have been sick either if she was in Spain. She studied Regina's face and noticed the dark circles underneath Regina's eyes. "Are you getting enough sleep?" she asked concerned.

"I didn't last night," Regina answered, giving the dough another solid whack. "I woke up at four because of a dream, and then I couldn't go back to sleep again until I had, uhm..." she sucked her cheeks in and looked at the dough rather than at Emma. "Taken care of... things."

"I get it," Emma said softly.

"I think I almost prefer the morning sickness over this!" Regina said, frustration obvious in her voice now. "¡Esto es lo peor!"

"You'll just have to be a little extra nice to yourself then," Emma said gently.

Regina laughed bitterly. "I can't be that all the time, querida. I kid you not, it's the only thing I wanna do at the moment. Yesterday I was gonna shop for more maternity bras and I had to leave the store again because I got distracted by all the underwear. And this morning I was in the shower-"

"And now I'M getting turned on," Emma interjected.

"Shut up. Anyway, I was in the shower, minding my own business, and then bam, suddenly out of nowhere I get horny! And I was literally not thinking about anything!" Regina huffed exasperated. "But maybe it was because of the way the loofah-"

"Regina. Please stop talking," Emma said tightly. "I might be sick, but I am still capable of..."

"Sorry, sorry," Regina said, half-smiling. "You should try being in my head these days! It's either sex or food. Like I said, teenage boy!"

"Oh god," Emma said and tried not to smile. She wasn't laughing at Regina. It was no laughing matter at all. Regina really looked quite frustrated with the situation.

"I don't know how much longer I can take this before I buy a plane ticket to Boston," Regina joked and appeared to be forcing herself to knead the dough instead of whacking it. "Pero de todos modos, how are you? Do you feel very ill?"

"Nope, seeing your pretty face has miraculously cured me."

"My pretty face?" Regina snorted. "Querida, I'm wearing no makeup. I didn't do anything to my hair, and I'm wearing a baggy t-shirt. Which you fortunately cannot see because of the apron, but still."

"You look smashing," Emma said firmly. "And nothing can change my mind about THAT. Me on the other hand-"

"You look cute," Regina interrupted her. "All pink cheeked."

"Your cheeks are pretty pink too, sweetheart."

"That's because I suffer from a very different kind of fever."

Emma tilted her head slightly. "Even right now?"

"Sí. Even right now."

Emma couldn't resist to poke around a bit. "Because of... what? Did you see something?" merciful god, Emma wasn't sure her system could handle the idea of Regina watching something dirty.

"Yes, I'm seeing you," Regina said simply.

It took Emma a few seconds to realize what Regina meant, but when she did, her mouth fell open with a little plop. "Wait, are you saying that... just because you can SEE me? But I look like shit!"

"Tú no."

Emma honestly couldn't believe it. "Are you seriously having the hots for me right now?!" if that wasn't flattering, Emma didn't know what was. She was all bundled up and her hair was a mess.

"Sí!" Regina said and almost sounded a bit angry. "And I feel guilty about it because you're sick and miserable and that's probably the last thing you're-"

"Don't ever feel guilty for having the hots for me," Emma grinned. "Not ever."

Very maturely, Regina poked out her tongue and said something in Spanish that probably wasn't all that nice.

"So, what exactly is going on in your head right now?" Emma asked curiously. However ridiculous it sounded, she felt better.

"You do not wanna know."

"Actually I do," Emma said and quickly checked herself. Was she teasing a pregnant woman right now? A pregnant, horny woman? Yeah. She was a little bit. Shoot. Okay, she'd definitely stop asking after this. It wasn't fair to Regina to keep going on about it when she was struggling.

"At least five different scenarios," Regina almost moaned. "And at least three of them may or may not involve this kitchen table." She stared miserably at the dough on said table. "Isn't that awful?"

"Uhh..." Emma's mouth felt dry and she suddenly felt flushed for other reasons than the slight fever. "Nope. It really, really is not!" she cleared her dry throat. "We'll have to try that the next time I'm in Spain."

"Em-ma, ¡Te lo ruego!" Regina said strained. "Please stop. Otherwise I have to end the conversation and take another shower. Or possibly do something else."

"Okay, okay," Emma surrendered. "I'll stop. I'm sorry."

"I forgive you. This time," Regina said and wiped her flour covered hands slightly. "There. That should do it. Now the dough just needs to rise." She briefly disappeared off screen as she bend down to find a bowl for the dough.

Emma watched as she put the dough into the bowl and laid a dishtowel over it. It was almost as if she had physically been with Regina in the kitchen, baking with her. Emma wished that she was.

"That's that," Regina said and sounded rather pleased with her effort. She looked back at Emma. "So? How did it go with your parents last night? What did they say?"

"I didn't tell them," Emma admitted sheepishly. She had been meaning to, she really had. But for some reason the words had stuck in her throat and she couldn't get them out no matter how much she wanted to. And she sort of hated herself a little bit for not having told them about California yet. It wasn't fair that her friends and Regina knew about her plans when her parents did not.

"Oh, okay," Regina said lightly. "Of course there's no rush, but I thought you said that you were planning on telling them last night?"

"I was," Emma said. "And I AM going to tell them. It's just... it's a big deal, you know? And it's only been a week since I came back from Spain. I'm afraid that my mom will break down in tears or something."

"Does she often do that?" Regina asked.

"No, but still..."

"Querida," Regina chuckled softly. "Es tu vida. Su decisión. I've met your parents, and i can't imagine that they'll be nothing but supportive and understanding when you tell them."

"You're right," Emma nodded. "Of course you are. I know that they'll support me a hundred percent. I think... I think it might be the idea of telling them that freaks me out the most."

"What do you mean?" Regina asked softly.

Emma took a gulp of her tea and winced slightly at the way her throat ached. "Telling them will make it so... real. It won't just be a thought in my head anymore. It'll be an official thing. I'm a small town girl. I'm not used to California. I don't know anyone in California-"

"You'll know my dad," Regina joked.

"Huh?"

"He's moving there, remember?"

"Oh." Emma remembered Henry's talk about wanting to open a restaurant in California. "But I thought that wasn't a thing anymore because of..." she vaguely gestured to Regina's mid-section.

Regina chuckled. "Oh, it's a thing. Very much so. He's been talking about it on and off for years, and now the time is finally right. He's actually a bit like you, querida. He has wanderlust. Wants to see something else than Madrid. You're right, he was close to giving up on that dream because of what's going on with me, but I convinced him otherwise. He's been putting his dreams on hold for years for Cora's sake. I refuse to be another obstacle. If trying his luck in California is what he wants, why shouldn't he just go for it? He isn't getting any younger."

"Does he know where he wants to live?" Emma asked.

"Malibu. I think he has known for years."

"Malibu," Emma repeated with a grin. "That's only an hour away from Laguna Beach."

"Sí, it sure is. He's like you, querida," Regina chuckled. "He too dreams of seeing the beach first thing when he wakes up."

"And what do you dream of, beautiful girl?" Emma asked softly.

"Tú," Regina said immediately and flashed Emma a big grin. "But we were talking about you."

Emma ignored that. "What do you think about California?"

"Me gusta California," Regina assured with a chuckle. "But we weren't talking about-"

"Suppose I found a beach house big enough for two?" Emma interrupted. "Would you be interested in staying there?"

Regina's brown eyes went wide. "Querida, are you asking me to move in with you?"

Emma opened her mouth. "I..." closed it again. Shit, was she asking Regina to move in with her?! Via Skype?! Good god! Was it the fever that made her run her mouth all the sudden or what?! Emma swallowed something. Maybe her fever was higher than what she first had assumed. "Uhh," she said, unsure of how to continue from here. She scratched her forehead awkwardly.

This could have been a disaster. An awkward, beyond awkward moment. But, Regina- bless her!- diffused the tension by laughing sweetly. "I think I'd like to do one thing at the time, mi amor. She patted her belly. "You know... give birth and all that."

"Right. Gotcha," Emma mumbled, furious at herself for having spoken so freely. It was too soon, damnit!

"But... should you ever want to ask me again, you might get a different answer," Regina softly continued as she reached out as though to touch Emma. "I mean, we can't keep doing this long distance thing forever, can we, mi amor?"

"No," Emma said and smiled as she felt the hope swell inside her. "We definitely cannot. But leaving Spain... would you really be okay with that?"

Regina shrugged lightly. "If and when daddy leaves, there isn't much reason for me to stay, is there? I mean, sure I have my jobs, but that isn't all that much of a reason, is it? Who knows, maybe daddy decides to open a flamenco bar at some point..." she laughed pearly. "My point is that I want to be with the people I love the most. And both of them seems to be moving to California. Seems like a pretty good reason to move on. And besides, Robin and Marian are here in Spain. I'd be very happy if I could get an ocean between the three of us."

"You haven't seen any of them around, have you?" Emma asked worriedly.

"No. Though I did see a red car parked outside the building last night. But that could just have been a coincidence," Regina said lightly. "I'm actually sure it was. I was just being paranoid."

"And honestly, who can blame you?" Emma sighed.

Regina chuckled. "I'm finally getting some quiet time. If only my stupid hormones could shut up."

"They're not still going, are they?" Emma asked and tried not to chuckle.

"Oh, they are. Because now I'm thinking about the amount of sex we could have if we lived in a beach house."

Emma couldn't help it. She laughed loudly. And then she started coughing. Violently.

"Oh no!" Regina said alarmed. "I do not like the sound of that! Maybe you should see a doctor, mi amor?"

"Nah, it's just the sniffles. Excuse me." Emma even turned her head away from the screen as she coughed. When she was done, she cleared her throat. "Sorry about that. Phew, I'm glad I'm not with you right now. I wouldn't want you to catch anything in your condition."

"You make me sound positively deadly," Regina joked.

"Deadly cute. Can I see the belly?"

"Not much change since you last saw it. Which would be... two days ago."

"I don't care. I wanna see it. Can I? Pleeeaaaase? I'm sick and miserable and seeing your belly is definitely the only thing that will cheer me up right now."

Regina rolled her eyes. "Alright, fine. But this is silly."

"I love silly," Emma assured.

Regina took off her apron and walked backwards slightly, away from the laptop screen. Then she grabbed two handfuls of the oversized t-shirt to pull it tight over her belly. And finally she turned to a sideway position. "There we are."

"Wow," Emma said and shook her head in sheer amazement. Just like she had done the last time. "You know, I'm sure it has grown since the last time I saw it."

"You said that the last time. The growth spurt isn't supposed to happen yet," Regina said overbearingly as she let go of the t-shirt and gave her belly a little rub.

Emma couldn't stop staring at Regina's cute baby bump. Maybe she was being silly, but she could have sworn that it had grown since the last time she saw it. Emma was itching to reach out and touch it, and it was killing her that she couldn't. Even though Regina was right there, Emma missed her so badly it hurt. Missed being able to hold her. It didn't matter that there was 'only' three more weeks to go before Regina would come to Storybrooke and celebrate Emma's birthday with her. And Regina would be twenty weeks pregnant by then. Emma would have missed out on so much stuff. Or so it felt.

"Any movements yet?" Emma asked. Exactly like she did every day.

"You know, I actually thought that there was this morning-"

"What?! Are you serious?!"

"-BUT it turns out that I was just hungry," Regina chucklingly finished the sentence.

"Oh. Right. Makes sense," Emma nodded and let her gaze wander down some. She had been pretty busy looking at Regina's more and more prominent belly, but now she had spotted something that was interesting too. "Honey?"

"Yes, preciosa?" Regina drawled and laughed at her own joke.

"Are you not wearing any pants?" Emma asked and raised an eyebrow. She could see the tops of Regina's thighs. The tops of her bare thighs.

Regina smirked as she walked backwards again and bared her very naked legs. "No. You see, I've heard that pregnant women aren't really that big on wearing pants, so I decided to try it for myself."

"Right then." Emma's mouth felt dry again. And her throat felt tight. But for reasons that had absolutely nothing to do with her cold. "You are... Jesus, please tell me you are wearing panties!"

Regina spluttered. "Em-ma Swan! I thought I was the one with the raging hormones!"

"Your... pantlessness just made me join the club."

"Dios mio," Regina laughed. "For your information, querida, I AM wearing panties. They're blue."

"Right. Thanks for that little nugget of information." Emma had to clear her throat again. "Okay." Deep breaths, Swan. "What were we talking about?"

"Well, before you got inappropriate with me, I think we were talking about how you haven't told your parents about California," Regina informed her and came closer to the screen again.

"Right. Yeah. I'll tell them. When I'm done running a fever, I'll sit them down and tell them," Emma vowed. "You're right, I can't just keep... not telling them. And I'm pretty sure my mom already knows that something is going on. She's been giving me funny looks since I came home from Spain."

"She's a smart woman," Regina nodded. "Maybe she already knows."

"Maybe." It was possible that her mom's crazy sixth sense had picked up on something.

"Mind if I move you into the living room?" Regina joked. "For some reason I'm getting tired of standing up. And it's ridiculous. I'm not that big yet."

"To the couch it is," Emma laughed. "Lead the way and I'll follow."

"Hold on," Regina said.

Emma waited patiently. There was some shuffling as the laptop was picked up, and then all Emma could see was the floor, Regina's bare feet and her legs. "Am I cradled against your belly?" she inquired. "Or your chest?"

Regina snickered. "Well... Let's just say I'm keeping you close to my heart, querida."

"Ever the romantic."

"Mhmm. Woops. There we are."

Emma was 'sat down' on the coffee table, and now she could see Regina's pretty face again.

"Urgh, my place is so messy!" Regina complained and wrinkled her nose.

"No, it's not," Emma said. Regina's living room didn't look that messy. Not like it had at the time where she had just found out she was pregnant. It had looked like a bomb had exploded then.

Before Regina could answer, Emma heard a massive thud that clearly came from her building. "What the hell?" Emma said. "Was that an earthquake or something?"

"No..." Regina said. She let the word hang in the air for a moment while she listened intensely. Then Emma heard another sound. Someone exclaiming in Spanish. Loudly. Cussing, most likely.

"That was Señora Ramirez slamming her apartment door without getting her keys with her," Regina said with an eyeroll.

"Oh," Emma said, nodding knowingly. Yes, she had heard about Señora Ramirez and her shenanigans before.

"Well, I'm not gonna help her," Regina muttered lowly. "Not this time. She and I are not exactly on good terms anymore."

"Why not?" Emma asked slightly surprised. Señora Ramirez was definitely an eccentric lady, but normally she and Regina were on pretty friendly terms. Regina had often picked up a few things for her in the local grocery store or helped her getting up the stairs.

"Well, I was helping her getting up to her apartment when I came home last night," Regina explained. "She looked kinda worn out, so I figured I'd leant her my arm..."

"That was nice of you."

"Anyway, we make it up to her apartment door. We chitchat about... I don't know, the weather or something? And just out of nowhere she starts to rub my belly."

Emma spluttered. "No freaking way!"

"Yes, way," Regina sighed. "It literally came out of nowhere, Emma! I hadn't hinted or invited her to touch my belly at all! And she was literally caressing it! Full on! It was creepy!"

"Uhm, yeah!" Emma said in a 'well duh'-tone. "If I had been there, I would have yelled at her! I don't care that she's a little old lady. Did you say something to her? Please tell me you said something to her!"

Regina blushed and looked embarrassed. "I'm afraid I was rude to her. My hormones were raging, and I was feeling antsy, so I might have... told her to get her paws off my belly."

"Good for you."

"I actually said 'fucking paws'."

"Even better."

"Em-ma!" Regina groaned. "You're not supposed to condone it! You're supposed to tell me I was rude!" she sighed. "This is hopeless! Afterwards I called my dad and told him about it. He wouldn't tell me off either. He just huffed and puffed and said that Señora Ramirez should have kept her hands to herself."

"And he's right about that," Emma said plainly. "What did that Ramirez-lady say then?"

"Honestly? She cussed at me. And said 'nacimiento difícil'."

"Which means...?"

"'Difficult birth'. Maybe she was attempting to curse me or something. Either way, she ran inside her own apartment and slammed the door in my face."

"Okay, I'm so gonna murder her the next time I see her!" Emma fumed. And coughed.

Regina smiled meekly. "It wasn't all that fun. But I still feel bad though. I shouldn't have shouted at her."

"Honey, she touched you without your consent. A pregnant belly doesn't give anyone permission to just touch you," Emma said firmly.

"Except for you," Regina half-chuckled. "You get a free pass every time."

"Maybe, but I'm still gonna ask," Emma smiled. "I hope you won't see that old bat anytime soon."

"I probably won't. She looked pretty-" Regina paused midsentence and put a hand on her belly.

"What?" Emma asked, immediately perking up. "Do you feel something? Movements?"

"No. Rumbling. I'm hungry," Regina said and let out a bubbly laughter. "Gotcha."

"You little tease!"

Regina looked incredibly satisfied with herself as she shifted on the couch and pushed a lock of hair away from her face. "Mind if I eat while we talk?"

"No. Mind turning the laptop so I can watch you walk away?" Emma asked sweetly.

"If you stop using take tone. You make me think... bedroom thoughts," Regina said almost a bit glumly and disappeared out of view as she rose from the couch. At least her head did. Her belly and legs were still fully visible, and Emma was having the time of her life watching as Regina turned the laptop around.

Emma leaned back as though she was about to enjoy a show. And a moment later, she was in fact given one. Regina made a point of walking away. Well, dancing away. She was swaying her hips and proving that she still was every bit a dancer.

"Oh, man," Emma called a bit louder than she normally would so Regina could hear her in the kitchen. "That's the most action I've had in a week!"

"Sí, me too!" Regina called back and made a sound that could only be described as a cackle. "But just you wait until it's your birthday. I'll give you plenty of action then!"

"I can hardly wait," Emma groaned. Waiting three more weeks was gonna be terrible, but she would have to do it somehow. And in the meantime, she could stop being such a big chicken and tell her parents about her moving plans. "Looking good!" she called, praising Regina's dancing like so often before.

"Anything to make the patient feel better," Regina joked from the kitchen. And then she let out a happy little sound followed by a: "oooh, querida, Tengo fresas!

"Aren't you a lucky gal," Emma said warmly. Seriously, Regina's happiness about food was the cutest thing ever!

"I told you. It's either sex or food these days. If you were here, it could have been both..."

"Yeah, you know what, I'm just gonna have a heart attack real quickly," Emma groaned. Now HER mind had five different scenarios to offer. And most of them involved Regina's naked body and chocolate sauce.

"Lo siento. Except I'm not," Regina laughed.

Emma chuckled. Maybe she should make herself some more tea. This Skype session with Regina was clearly gonna be a lengthy one. And Emma couldn't think of a better way to spend her 'sick day'. Maybe she and Regina were apart right now, but they were still together...

To Be Continued...

Spanish translations:

¡Esto es lo peor!= This is the worst!

Tú no.= You do not.

¡Te lo ruego!= I beg you.

Es tu vida. Su decisión= It is your life. Your decision.

Tú= You.

Me gusta California= I like California.

Tengo fresas!= I have strawberries!

Lo siento= I'm sorry.