Cooking

Sofi asked for a oneshot of Emma coming to Snow to have her teach her how to make a dish.

Guest: As I've said before, I need a wee bit of help with sequel requests, as I don't always know where to take the story. What would you want to happen in the sequel?

Ap: (I realise your actual guest name is longer, but there are too many as and ps for me to remember the order): aren't you still under the gap rule?

"Are you sure you don't want me to dice the onions for you, sweetheart?" Snow asked, trying to be as sensitive as possible. Emma shot her mom a look.

"No thank you, I got it." Emma responded stubbornly. Snow winced as Emma barely missed slicing the tips of her fingers off. Snow understood that it was important to Emma that she learned how to make this dish, but she wasn't going to be able to make it if she chopped off the top of one of her fingers. Emma sighed, sensing her mom's keen gaze on her. "I've gotta be able to do this on my own. You're not going to be in the kitchen with me next week, are you?" Emma pointed out. Snow smiled at her resilience.

"No, I guess I'm not." Snow admitted. "I'm proud of you, you know." She said. Emma laughed.

"I'm just making your stew, I'm hardly the next Martha Stewart." Emma pointed out. Snow smiled.

"Possibly not, but you're trying." Snow tried to encourage her. "That means something." Snow slowly sipped at her glass of water. "I'm just glad I'm not the one sampling the dinner." She teased her daughter. Emma balled up the tea towel and flung it at her mom. Although, if she was honest, she wasn't too sure about eating it herself.