The fever talking- part 2

Ouat Prisky0731asked for a oneshot of a sequel to Ch2627 "The fever talking" where the Charmings have to deal with an adult minded deaged Emma who keeps pushing limits.

"Mooooooom." Snow heard Emma whine. Snow sighed, counting to ten. She loved all her children, but right now, her eldest was really beginning to push it. Emma was still sick, but had fortunately improved from her little night time stroll. It was the thinking of everyone involved that Emma would return to normal when she recovered fully from her illness. Emma quickly worked out that, since she was younger, her parents were willing to give her pretty much anything. Although the novelty wore off pretty quickly for both of them. She was trying to get her own way at every turn.

"I'll go." Charming told Snow. She'd been up all night with Emma puking. He kissed the side of her head and went up to Emma's room.

"Her Highness called?" He said from the doorway. Emma smiled up at him. Charming braced himself. That smile meant trouble.

"I'm feeling better now." Emma told him. "Maybe good enough for some ice cream?"

"How about some nice yogurt instead?" Charming bartered. Emma screwed up her face.

"I think I'd rather have ice cream, thanks." She said boldly, dropping the sweet pretence. Charming came over and sat on the edge of her bed.

"You might be ill, but that doesn't suddenly merit ice cream for breakfast. You haven't had your tonsils taken out." Emma pouted at him.

"But it would make me feel so much better. Something cold and easy to soothe my stomach back into eating." Charming bent down and kissed her forehead. At least her temperature was going down.

"The yogurt's been in the fridge so it's cold too. Plus, it's vanilla, so you can even think of it like melted ice cream."

"But it's the zero percent fat stuff that mom buys in, not the proper fatty stuff." Emma whined. Charming chuckled.

"You can even have some fruit with it if you like chunky ice cream." He teased her. Emma's pout grew.

"Sorry kiddo. I don't button up the back. Neither does your mom." He told her. "You know, if you're well enough to be eating ice cream, I suspect you're well enough to get out of bed. Maybe even give your mom a bit of a hand…"

"No! No. I'm sick. Deathly sick." Emma claimed, clutching the duvet to her with an ironclad grip."

"Mmm-hmm. That's that I thought." Charming said, getting up. "I'll bring you up some nice, no fat, yogurt." Charming told her. Emma sighed. Being sick was suddenly not so fun.