A/N: Thank you so much to Lindsay for commissioning this fic and finally giving me the chance to write about the SQ graduation road trip! I had the most fun putting this together.

For ease and because we're all tired of them, I've written this story with both Hook and Hood out of the picture.

Chapter one

The trunk of the Bug was nearly overflowing, leaving Emma to lean her entire weight onto her elbow as she tried to force the last bag in. Behind her, Henry was giggling, having tried to help but been shooed away twice already.

"You sure you've got it?"

"I'm sure," Emma grunted, although neither of them believed her. She was so busy digging her elbow in deeper that she didn't hear the slow footsteps approaching her.

"Emma," Regina sighed. "What are you doing?"

"Packing the trunk."

"I can see that. It seems like it's going very well." Regina hesitated, then jingled her car keys. "But we're not taking the Bug."

"What?" Emma demanded, spinning around. "Why not?"

Regina gestured to the bags that still wouldn't fit. "Well, this seems like a pretty good reason in itself."

"But—"

"Your car is slow and unreliable and there's not enough room for all three of us, plus our bags. We're taking my car."

"Regina."

"We're taking my car," Regina repeatedly calmly. "Henry, will you help Emma unload the trunk, please?"

Henry gleefully did as he was told. When his mothers had told him they were taking him on a road trip as his graduation gift, he wasn't entirely sure whether to be excited or not - even though Emma and Regina were something close to being friends nowadays, he struggled to picture them surviving in a car together for a full week without one of them strangling the other. But then they'd sat down together and discussed their route, and he'd felt the first tickle of excitement rising up inside him: the first three days would take them along the Canadian border until they reached Chicago. Henry had a friend, Josh, who he'd met at summer camp a few years earlier, who lived there. It had been ages since they'd hung out, and Henry couldn't wait to spend some time in the city with him before he headed back to Maine on the road through Ohio and New York, with college waiting for him not too far away on the other side.

As he unpacked and then repacked the Mercedes, he listened to his moms bickering behind him and tried not to laugh.

"Regina, you can't seriously need this much crap for a weeklong trip."

"Those are my cosmetics. What do you propose I do? Smear car grease into my pores?"

"Or just use running water like a normal person? What the hell is in this?"

"My spellbooks."

"Seriously?"

"No," Regina said happily. "Henry's spare shoes. I don't want him complaining about blisters when we're making stops."

Henry rolled his eyes. He had to admit this kind of playful arguing made a nice change from the old days, but he still didn't love the fact that he always seemed to be at the centre of it.

But then he turned around, ready to tell his moms that he was done with the car, and found them smiling at each other. It wasn't the full-blown beam he saw Emma share with her parents or Ruby, but it was something similar and it made his chest leap. His mothers smiled at each other like they were full of uncertainty, but they were grateful for the feeling anyway. It was his favourite thing to see after all the years of fighting that had come before it.

"Hey, moms?" he said tentatively. They turned to look at him. "I think we're all set."

"Great," Regina replied, stepping closer and brushing his shoulder with her own. "Then let's get going."

The chatter from the front seat could almost be soothing if it wasn't so incessant, Emma thought as she slumped in the back with her temple pressed against the window. She was trying to focus on the scenery that was rushing past instead of the sticky wetness in her mouth, but every bump and jolt made her jaw ache.

"Hey, Mom," Henry gabbled at Regina from the passenger seat. "When we get to Vermont, there's this cool thing we could go see."

"Really? What's that?"

"The Ben & Jerry's Flavour Graveyard."

Regina looked flatly over at him. "Are you serious?"

"It sounds fun! Don't you want to see the final resting place of chocolate peanut butter cookie dough?"

The thought made Emma's stomach roll. She winched down the window just slightly.

"Is it on our route?" Regina asked, glancing in the rear view mirror and expecting to find Emma looking disbelievingly back at her. Instead, she found her seemingly not paying the slightest bit of attention to what they were saying.

Henry paused as he looked at Google Maps. "It's just... 90 minutes out of the way."

"And what's in this 'flavour graveyard', exactly?"

"God, Mom," Henry scoffed. "Like, tombstones. Of old flavours."

"You want us to drive 90 minutes out of the way to go to a cemetery? You won't even come with me to my father's tomb on Sundays."

"Your father isn't a pint of sugar plum."

Regina rolled her eyes, then glanced in the mirror again. Behind her, Emma was still staring resolutely out the window.

"Emma?" she asked gently. "Are you alright?"

Emma jumped. "Sure. Just... don't want to disturb you."

Regina frowned, but kept driving. Emma's silence in the back seat bugged her all the way down the highway.

The gas station they stopped at was tiny and dirty, but surrounded by acres of golden fields and sprawling trees. The second Regina stepped out the car, she assumed she'd fallen headfirst back into another Enchanted Forest curse.

"Well," she said, stretching her arms. "This is strangely picturesque."

"I'm going to get gum," Henry replied, walking off to the store. Behind Regina, Emma was clambering out the back of the car. Her face was a little pale.

Regina turned to her and beamed, pretending not to notice how unsteady she looked. "It's quite nice here, isn't it?"

"Sure," Emma replied, leaning back against the side of the car. She forced a smile. "Hey, have you noticed that since Henry turned 18, he's incapable of walking like a normal person?"

Regina glanced over at where her son was just stomping into the gas station. She laughed. "I think he's been doing that for about three years, actually. The house has never been louder."

When she turned back, she caught Emma taking a few deep breaths. She frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Why?"

"You're just a bit grey."

"I'm fine," Emma insisted, pushing herself off the car once more when Henry reappeared. "Are we ready to keep going?"

Regina just frowned at her. She was still breathing heavily, and it looked vaguely like returning to the backseat of the car might kill her.

And then Regina realised - this was the first time this had happened, because she'd never driven with Emma in the back before. Emma hadn't asked to sit up front because this was Henry's trip, and she obviously didn't want to ruin that for him - even if she did, apparently, get horribly car sick.

Regina fished her keys out her pocket and tossed them in Emma's direction. "Here."

Both Emma and Henry gaped back at her. "What are these for?"

"You're driving the next leg."

"What?" Emma spluttered, glancing at their son. "Why?"

"Because I'm tired, Miss Swan," Regina snapped in the voice that never terrified anyone anymore. "Surely you can handle this for the next couple of hours?"

Before anyone could respond, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the backseat. Emma and Henry exchanged another look before they followed, settling in for the next leg of the ride.

After 10 minutes of driving, Emma's nausea had vanished, and she suddenly realised why she'd been 'forced' to drive in the first place. Beside her, Henry was still happily chatting away, talking about all the pizza places he wanted to visit once they got to Chicago, while behind her, Regina was listening happily. Emma had been expecting multiple comments on her driving, but to her surprise, there was very little noise from the backseat. In fact, as she lounged with her legs stretched across into the opposite footwell, Regina realised this was the first time she'd ever been driven around in her own vehicle. Once Emma had gotten used to the gear changes, the journey was surprisingly smooth.

For the next few hours, they drove in contented quiet that was interrupted only by Henry's excited chatter and Regina's vague questions. Emma was able to relax in her seat, her feet barely kissing the pedals as the scenery shot past. It was seven o'clock when they arrived at their stop for the night - a hotel, rather than a motel, that Regina had of course booked ahead because she'd planned their week's itinerary down to the minute. Emma parked the car and climbed out to find herself standing in front of a little brick building that personified everything she'd ever imagined when she'd pictured Vermont.

"I'll get the bags," Henry said at once. At 18, he was taller than both his mothers and had been refusing to let them do any manual labour for years. At one point around his 16th birthday, he had loudly declared to Regina that she shouldn't take things up into the attic anymore because he was the man of the house now. She'd nearly split a rib trying not to laugh.

She got out the backseat of the car and stretched her arms, glad she'd booked them a room each so she could take a long bath as soon as they'd checked in. Ahead of her, Emma was wriggling her ankles to get some feeling back into her feet.

Then she looked up, caught Regina watching her, and smiled. She approached with the keys in her hand.

"Hey," she said in that gruff voice that always reminded Regina of their days in Neverland. At the time, it had been emotionless and cautious. Now, there was always a smile just tweaking at the lower edge of it.

Regina smiled back. "Hi."

"Thanks for letting me drive," Emma said, holding out the keys. "It helped."

Regina hadn't been planning to mention Emma's obvious travel sickness, but since Emma had brought it up on her own, she said, "That's alright. It was nice to be chauffeured for once."

Emma snorted. "Don't get any ideas."

"I'm afraid it's too late. I've already bought you the little hat." Regina reached out to take the keys, but somehow they didn't quite exchange hands. "And hey, since you managed to not ding up my Mercedes, maybe I'll even let you do it again tomorrow."

Trying to look displeased, Emma replied, "I'd rather take a nap in the trunk."

"It would be much quieter if you did. I wouldn't complain."

They shared a grin over a joke that they both knew wasn't even funny. That fact didn't matter - for both of them, just talking civilly reminded them of how bad things had been several years earlier. The sniping. The resentment. The uncertainty whenever the other person was near. In particular, Regina couldn't help but remember how she'd never been sure whether she would come out of a conversation with her son still in tow, or whether he would take the opportunity to switch parents to suit his needs for the fifth time that week. Talking like friends was a blessed relief, and so was sharing jokes that wouldn't have made anyone else laugh. The fact that their hands were still outstretched, touching, as they didn't quite manage to pass the keys between them was a beautiful, unexpected, relief-filled thing.

Just beyond the hotel's entrance, Henry had dumped the first round of bags in the lobby and was walking back toward the parking lot. It was odd, he thought, that neither Regina or Emma had appeared with their last suitcases yet. Maybe they were finally taking him seriously when he insisted that he was there to do the heavy lifting for them.

But before the electric doors could swish open, he caught sight of them out in the forecourt. His mothers were smiling at each other, and at first glance it looked like they were holding hands. Then he glanced down and saw the keys hovering between them. He swallowed.

When he looked up again, Regina was finally peeling them away from Emma's fingers. Her gaze, however, hadn't strayed. She was smiling gently, and Emma was returning it ever so willingly.

"I guess we should head inside," he heard Regina's muffled voice through the doors. Before they could look round and catch him watching, he retreated to the lobby and pretending to be sorting their bags until they appeared.

After that, all he could do was watch. He saw the way Emma automatically held herself very still whenever Regina was near, like she was worried about startling her with uncalled-for familiarity. He noticed that whenever Regina said something to the desk staff that could potentially be deemed funny, she turned to Emma to see if it had received her seal of approval. When they were handed their three room keys and sent on their way, Regina passed over Emma's like she was reluctant to see it go.

And that was how he found himself sitting on his rigid hotel bed, suddenly remembering all the tentative touches between them over the past year or two. Ever since Hook and Robin had vanished from the picture, he'd watched without noticing as his moms drifted toward each other instead. It wasn't a sudden, explosive friendship - it was cautious and unspoken. Emma would appear at the door on Thursday nights, pretending to have left a spellbook there and then not resisting when Regina invited her in for dinner. Regina would show up at Granny's while Emma was having a coffee and ask in her quietest, more uncertain voice if she could join her. They didn't know if they were friends yet, and to Henry, that had made sense for a long time. But all of a sudden he saw what they could be like on the other side of that barrier - comfortable, open and grateful to have each other. Just like that, he found himself wondering whether this road trip would be the thing to finally bring them both what they'd deserved for so long.