Finally, getting around to Emma and Henry this chapter. Can't believe it's taken me so long to write them together.

Remember to review, darlings!

Emma woke with a yelp to the sound of a fist pounding furiously on the door.

"What is that?" she heard Snow complain from the other room, while David groaned and lamented the early hour.

"EMMA!" Hook's muffled voice shouted through the door.

"Emma, it's for you," David called out sleepily as Hook pounded more forcefully on the door. Emma groaned, rubbing away the tiredness in her eyes as she swung her legs out of bed. She glanced at the clock on her way out the door: eight-fifteen. On a Sunday? Why is he doing this to me? she thought miserably, hanging onto the railing as she padded down the stairs.

"EMMA!"

"I'm coming…"

She opened to the door to a glaring Hook, stifling a yawn as she did so. "What?" she asked blearily.

"Where's your cygnet?" Hook asked through gritted teeth. "He stole my hook. I want it back."

"Cygnet?" she repeated, crinkling her brow. "Did you actually just refer to Henry as my cygnet?"

Hook nodded. "That's the scientific term for a baby swan. You're Swan, Henry is Baby Swan, thus—"

"What do you mean, he stole your hook?" Emma said over him, cutting in before he got lost in his explanation. Hook furiously held up his left arm, showing her his empty brace. She sighed, stepping back so he could come in.

"Henry…" she called as Hook stalked past her to the foot of the stairs. "Henry, wake up."

"No…"

Hook's eyes widened furiously. "Get up, you little—!"

"Hey," Emma said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Calm down, I'll get him."

"I want my hook back!"

"I know, hon. Just—calm down, okay?" Emma guided him to the couch, speaking soothingly. "I'll go get it. You stay here, and try not to let that vein pop out of your head."

Hook muttered darkly under his breath as Emma went up the stairs to Henry's little cramped half-room. She knocked on the door, still trying to blink sleep-crumbs out of her eyes.

"Henry, open up."

"Mom…" he whined from inside. "It's Sunday. I'm not supposed to wake up for another five hours."

"Open the door, Henry."

"But—"

"Or I'm going to let Hook break in and see your shrine to Dr. Ten."

She could hear his bed springs creak as he got out of bed. "The Tenth Doctor, Mom," he said exasperatedly as he unlocked the door. "His name isn't Dr. Ten." Henry swung the door open, looking grumpy and disheveled, rubbing his eyes. "Okay, I'm up."

"Did you steal his hook?" Emma asked, folding her arms. Henry raised his eyebrows innocently.

"Of course not."

"Superpower," she reminded him.

"Which has known to be unreliable," he said gently. "Especially when you're exhausted."

"Did you steal his hook or not?"

"Not."

Emma raised an eyebrow. Henry stared back evenly, refusing to give in. Emma inhaled, nodding slowly.

"Okay," she said. "Then you won't mind if I take a look around."

"Go ahead," he said, his expression betraying nothing (and in doing so, betraying everything). "I've got nothing to hide."

"Good," she smiled, and stepped past him into the tiny space.

Henry followed her as she walked slowly around the perimeter of the room, leaning in to glance at the objects scattered on the shelves, toeing the pile of textbooks in the corner. Her eyes fell on his backpack, tossed beside his bed; Henry glanced at it, then quickly back up at her. Emma raised her eyebrows at him, smiling as she bent down and pulled it up, resting it on the bed as she undid the zipper. Sure enough, the light caught the rounded silver metal of the hook, buried under the scarf Henry had stuff in there. He exhaled frustratedly as Emma pulled the hook out with a satisfied, "Huh."

"I don't know why," he said in response to her dangling the hook questioningly in front of him. "Because I could."

"Why do you have to torment him?" Emma said, dropping her hand. "Then I have to deal with it."

Henry thought for a moment, frowning down at the floor. "How about…he described the details of your Neverland adventures in front of me last Thursday, and I wanted to get him back?"

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Okay, but just so you know, you only get to use that as an excuse once. Are you sure you want to waste it on this?"

"Damn," Henry swore under his breath. "All right, never mind. I'll accept the punishment."

Emma smiled at him and held out the hook. "Go downstairs, give it back to him, apologize, and ask what you can do to make up for it."

"Aw, Mom," Henry groaned, his head falling back. "Come on, are you serious?"

"Yep."

"Mom…" he whined.

"Henry…" she imitated, holding out the hook.

With a reluctant sigh, he took it, weighing it in his hand as he looked down at it. "Okay," he said. "Give me a minute, I just need to…emotionally detach myself from this."

Emma rolled her eyes as Henry muttered to himself and shook his hands out, as if preparing himself for a great feat. "Come on, kid, let's go," she said, snapping her fingers.

Henry lifted his head, taking a deep breath. "Okay, I'm ready," he said in a mechanical voice.

"Okay. Let's go."

Henry obediently followed her down the stairs and over to the couch, where Hook was waiting with tightly folded arms. His eyes widened furiously, catching sight of Henry, and he shot up. For a moment, the two of them looked at each other in a silent battle of wills. At last, Henry blew out a breath, and held out the hook.

"Here."

Hook glared at him, and held out his hand for the hook. Henry looked at him sourly and dropped the hook in his hand. Hook didn't take his eyes off him, as he slowly clicked the hook back into place, twisting it with deliberation.

"I'm to apologize, and ask how I can make it up to you," Henry said flatly. "So—sorry, and what do you want?"

Hook frowned, shifting his eyes to Emma suspiciously. She nodded encouragingly, waving him on. Hook shifted his gaze back to Henry and lifted his chin, considering.

"I need to think," he said at last. "I don't want to waste this."

"You're not enslaving my son, just so you know," Emma reminded him. "When I said 'make up for it', I meant a favor, not a contract to sell his soul to you. Don't let the power go to your head."

"Yeah, it's big enough as it is," Henry put in.

Emma placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it. "Probably not the best time to antagonize him."

"Listen to your mother," Hook said, smiling darkly.

Henry opened his mouth to retort, but stopped, hearing something. "Mom, I think your phone's buzzing."

Emma looked around for her phone, hearing the soft buzz grow louder as she bent down to the couch. "I hear it," she said, fishing around between the cushions. It must have dropped there last night, when she and Neal were watching television. "Ah!"

She slowly rose, sliding her thumb across the screen to read the text message, smiling to herself when she saw it was from Neal: You want to get coffee later?

"Who was it?" Henry asked, nodding at the phone.

"Neal," she said absently, typing back a "yes".

"Oh?" Henry perked up. "Really?"

"Yep," she said, closing her phone. "So—you guys want some breakfast, or something? Now that we're all up at this ungodly hour, thank you," she added to Hook.

"Wait, what time is it?" he asked, suddenly anxious.

"Eight-thirty, I think—"

"Shit!"

"Wait, where are you going?" Emma said as he suddenly raced to the door. "Hook?"

"Diner! See you later!" he yelled over his shoulder, disappearing out the door. Emma raised her eyebrows.

"Well, that was abrupt," she said, heading to the cupboard to take out two bowls and spoons. Henry made a noise of agreement, pulling out a stool. Emma opened another cupboard, looking up at the cereal boxes.

"I feel like Frosted Flakes," she decided.

"Sounds good."

Emma plucked the box off the shelf and pulled two spoons out of the drawer.

"So…" Henry leaned his elbows on the counter, watching her pour cereal into two bowls. "How's life treating you?"

She glanced up at him, setting the Frosted Flakes down: he was looking at her with raised eyebrows, fighting a smile.

"Fine…" she said slowly. "And you?"

"Fantastic," he said without a trace of irony. Emma raised an eyebrow. Since when was Henry "fantastic"? He had never been "fantastic". The most she'd ever gotten out of him was "okay, I guess". And after the incident with Hook, she'd have expected him to be somewhere between "shitty" and "how do you think I am?" But no… he was fantastic.

"Good," she said, pouring the milk in and pushing his bowl over. "Here you go."

"Thanks."

"No problem…" Emma frowned at him, tilting her head. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm feeling great," he smiled, spooning through his cereal. Emma mirrored him, still eyeing him suspiciously.

"So," she said after a while. "What do you have planned for today?"

"More homework, I think," he said around a mouthful of cereal. "You?"

"I was going to do some online Christmas shopping at work," she shrugged.

"Did you…" Henry waved his spoon, carefully choosing his next words. "Are you getting Dad anything?"

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Yeah…?"

"Interesting," Henry said, a small smile flitting across his face. "So, uh, why did he text you? What's up?"

"Nothing," she shrugged. "We're going to grab some coffee later, that's all."

"Oh, I see…"

Emma looked up at him: he was still smiling to himself, trailing his spoon through his cereal. He knows, she thought, feeling her stomach clench. How did he know? She and Neal had decided to keep…well, them a secret for a while, just to let the dust settle. It wasn't even like there was that much to tell, at this point: it was still delicate, still a little uncertain.

She decided to play along: regardless of whether Henry knew, if Henry knew that she knew that he knew, she wasn't going to say anything, and they weren't going to talk about it. Not yet.

"So, have you and Regina worked out any plans for your magic lessons?" she asked, stirring her spoon. "I saw your books. Have you started?"

"Not yet. She hasn't been feeling well lately," Henry said, taking another bite. He pointed his spoon at her. "How come you never learned?"

Emma shrugged, making a face. "Not really the type. I'm better with my gun."

"Hey, you don't think…" Henry frowned at his cereal, twirling the spoon listlessly. "You don't think me learning magic…you know, everything that happened with Rumplestiltskin…"

"You're worried about Neal's reaction," Emma said, reading between the lines.

"He says, he's fine with it, but I don't know if he's saying that because he's actually fine with it, or if he just doesn't want to upset me or whatever." Henry shook his head. "I don't know. I want to learn, but I don't want to—"

"Henry," Emma said gently, putting her hand on his. "It wasn't the magic that drove them apart. You learning magic isn't going to ruin anything between you two."

Henry didn't look convinced, still poking at his cereal. Emma sighed, coming over to sit beside him.

"It wasn't magic," she repeated. "Rumple let it go to his head, he let it become more important than anything else. You're not going to do that." She nudged him. "Regina's got magic, they're fine. I've got magic, we're fine. You two will be just as fine."

Henry nodded, looking a little more relaxed. "Okay," he said, picking up his spoon again. "Thanks."

Emma shrugged, waving him off. "I'm very wise, Henry, it's really not a big deal." She reached across the counter, pulling her bowl toward her. "And Frosted Flakes give my brain a nice sugar rush."

"They are inspiring," Henry agreed.

"And that, Henry, is why sugary cereal is one of the five main food groups."

"The other four being grilled cheese—"

"Pancakes—"

"French fries—"

"And hot chocolate," she said at the same time he said, "And coffee." They looked at each other in surprise.

"Okay, so that was cute for a minute there, but now we have to hash this out," Emma frowned, sitting up in her seat. "What do you mean, coffee? I thought hot chocolate was our thing."

"But I like coffee better."

"So do I. But hot chocolate is our thing."

Henry groaned, putting his hand over his eyes. "Mom, do we seriously have to argue about this now? This early? Over hot chocolate and coffee?"

"We must, Henry," Emma said solemnly. "We absolutely must."