A/N: So I made you guys wait ages for this and for that I apologize. I've been all over the place with it and I'm still not completely thrilled. At this point I just can't stare at the damned thing any more. Anyway, thanks for reading and enjoy.

"Granny" Lucas eyed her granddaughter, from the bright red streaks in her hair and the expectant, earnest smile down to the god awful pointy toed boots on the girl's feet.

The idea was almost lucrative. A movie night in the park, sponsored in part by the old theater, who would supply the movie side of things, and Granny's, who would supply the refreshment. A community affirming event that would provide a little extra cash and advertising for the diner. If it went well they could even make a "thing" of it, as Ruby had so eloquently put it.

She was almost positive her granddaughter had some ulterior motive she just couldn't imagine what it might be.

"Alright."

"Yes!"

"If— If, you take charge of it."

"Aaaaaaw-"

"You're the one with the grand ideas, girl, you can take responsibility for them."

It was high time, anyway, that she learned a little something about how to run things. Granny hadn't told her yet, hadn't found just the right time or the right words to express it, but it wouldn't be many years left before she had the whole damned business to her name.

"Fine! Cool. I can totally handle it."

And if she should happen to somehow burn the park down, well, they'd call it a learning experience.

###########

You must need to be tall to swagger, Henry decided, shoulders back and walking with a little wiggle that was decidedly un-Emma like. His birth mother, walking beside him, was oblivious to his antics. Her blond head was down, staring stoically at her own feet. She made quite the sad picture, with her fluffy ball topped beanie of the day and her hands fisted in the pockets of her blue leather jacket.

There had been a lot of that lately, he'd noticed, the quiet contemplation and stoicism. He hoped it was due to her growing love sick, but it was impossible to be certain.

Perhaps she had merely been missing out on her morning coffee. Grownups seemed to be prone to bouts of grumpiness when that happened.

"Kid… What are you doing?"

She'd finally noticed his weird little waddle and was staring at him with an expression that said she wanted to laugh but wasn't sure there wasn't something wrong with him.

Henry immediately straightened up, shrugging his shoulders."Nothing. Meet me at Granny's after school? I want to talk to you about something."

Her brows twitched, lips settling in an exasperated line, and he knew she thought it was something Operation Cobra related. Which in a roundabout sort of way it was. "Okay. Have a good day."

Maybe it was a girl thing, the swagger, he thought watching her walk away. There was definitely something about the hips that he just couldn't quite get.

########

"Don't be mad."

"No good conversation ever started out with those words."

Emma was sitting at the bar in Granny's, chatting with Ruby while she waited for her "usual" morning order of coffee and a bright pink assorted pastry box. The waitress was sporting pigtails that morning, though on her they looked anything but innocent, and an uncharacteristic air of nerves that told the sheriff she probably wasn't going to like what she was about to hear.

"Alright. Lay it on me."

"So, I kinda sorta promised I wouldn't tell you—but it's so cute and I'm just dying—and, well, I don't think you'll mind actually, you're kinda already, I mean I think you are—"

"Spit it out already, I'm running late as it is." Granny returned with the blonde's purchase, shooting Ruby an annoyed look that went unnoticed, and Emma hopped off her stool to collect it.

Ruby waited until her grandmother had gone again, and Emma was all but vibrating with impatience at this point, then leaned over the counter top so Emma could still hear her as she said in an excited whisper, "Henry is totally trying to parent trap you."

"What?" Emma frowned distractedly, peeling back the lid of her coffee cup to blow on the still steaming liquid.

"You know… You and the Mayor… he's trying to hook you up."

"Oh. Oh!" Emma suddenly found herself sitting again, though she had no real recollection of exactly how she'd gotten there. Her mouth opened, then snapped shut again, doing a fair impression of a goldfish. "You mean— He wants…?"

"His mommies to be together? Yes!" Ruby looked way too excited about the whole thing, Emma decided.

It certainly explained some things. That sneaky little brat.

"So, whaddaya think?"

"Huh?" Emma's attention had waned, mentally running over the last few weeks with her new found perspective, work and breakfast all but forgotten.

"Do you lurrrrrve her? The Mayor, I mean."

"What?! No! I mean… No!" They'd grown civil, certainly. The lust that had been initiated by the not-quite-kisses all those nights ago still reared it's head on occasion but nothing of the like had happened since and they'd done very well at settling into an almost-friendship. Emma might even say she'd grown somewhat fond of the other woman, fond of her company and her dark sense of humor (on those occasions when it emerged). Fond, even, of her laugh and that rare, genuine smile, the way she cared for Henry, that flippy little thing her hair had going on…

"Oh my God! You do!"

"No! Of course not. I like her I guess, once you get to know her she's not— Well, she's less of a bitch. Kind of."

"You love her! You totally love her!"

People were starting to stare at them now, drawn by the conversation that had ceased to be hushed, and Emma scowled darkly. "Seriously, it's not like that."

Although she couldn't quite suppress the remembrance of the things she'd told Regina, the feelings of "maybe someday". She'd boxed them all away, as she did most things that cut too close to her heart, but it didn't take much to send them fluttering to the surface.

Ruby was grinning like a mad woman. "Okay, you don't love her. But you could, couldn't you?"

Emma didn't say a word, couldn't quite think of how to express the thoughts she had rolling around in her brain even if she had been inclined to, but the answer must have been written all over her face because Ruby looked fit to burst.

"Yes! Okay, so you can't tell Henry I told you. But he had this idea— It was so sweet, he'll probably tell you later— anyway, you should do it. Woo your woman."

It was then that Emma finally got a glimpse of the clock on the wall and she remembered there was still life marching on outside this whatever it was going on inside her and fuck it all, she was so, so late.

"Crap. Crap! Listen, Rubes, I gotta run. Crap!"

It wasn't until after she'd gone, all but steamrolling over Archie in her hurry to get out the door, that Ruby realised the flustered sheriff had run off without her donuts.

Almost unheard of. Emma was a woman who was serious about her food.

'She's so got it bad.'

########

When Henry presented her with the tickets, roughly the length of her palm and emblazoned with bold red letters stating "Movie Night in the park with Granny's", Emma couldn't help the little smirk that tugged at her lips. She imagined he'd hatched some scheme, something that involved getting the three of them there and then somehow leaving his mothers alone together.

She had to give the kid credit, there was something a little bit romantic about it.

She drew it out a little, letting him sit there wide-eyed and a tad more nervous with each minute that passed.

Then, "I know what you're up to, you little imp."

Emma watched his face, cycling from surprise to something like bashful contrition when he realised she wasn't going to yell at him.

"You do?"

"Yeah." They needed to have a serious conversation, a heart to heart. It was uncomfortable for Emma, who had no experience with these things, but she grit her teeth and resolved to muddle through it. "Look Henry, I understand where you're coming from and it's sweet, what your trying to do but… Look, I don't want you to get your hopes up, okay?"

Which, judging by the way his eyes lit up, was exactly the wrong thing to say. His hopes were already up in the clouds. "You mean you're going to go for it?"

"Kid, I'm not making any promises. You have to understand how complicated this is. Your mom, she's…" Damaged. Almost impossible to get close to. She of the steel formed emotional walls. "A compex lady."

"But….?"

"I'm not even sure how she feels." She wasn't even completely sure how she felt herself. "But… Maybe. We'll see. But you have to stop with the plotting, okay? We'll get there when we get there. If we get there."

"Okay." His grin wasn't the least bit reassuring. "You'll still ask her though, right?"

He gestured at the three tickets she still held in her hand and Emma sighed. It could be fun, maybe.

"Yes. As long as you understand that it is what it is. Don't expect anything to happen, okay?"

He nodded emphatically but this was, after all, the child who believed in magical fairy tale love and she strongly suspected she hadn't effected his mindset in the slightest.

########

This was just stupid, Emma told herself even as she took another deep, calming breath, elbow deep in dishwater that smelled vaguely of vanilla. She was just proposing another "family" outing, just like any of the other dozen things they'd done together lately, and even if this was somehow different she'd never in her life had so much trouble going after something she wanted.

Maybe it was the knowledge that the thing she wanted this time wasn't strictly physical, as it had always been in the past. Hell, they already had a kid together (Close enough at any rate. It wasn't lost on her that Regina no longer protested the use of the word "Our".). Once they started down that path it wouldn't take very long to land on "serious". That was terrifying in and of itself.

And yet… It could be wonderful. She'd thus far referred to their weird little unit as a family only in a joking way, often just to see the expression it evoked on Regina's face, but if things worked out they really could be. A family. Domestic bliss. All the things she'd longed for as a child but long since dismissed as a pipe dream.

'Look at me, growing as a person…'

"Miss Swan, I'm reasonably certain that plate has been sufficiently clean for the last ten minutes."

Tonight it was wine, a rich red that probably cost more than Emma made in a month, swirling in the glass Regina clutched in delicately twisting fingers. She'd taken up her now customary perch at the kitchen island and was (for the most part) silently watching Emma work (The better to keep Emma from breaking something, she claimed, but the sheriff liked to think she enjoyed the company at least a smidgen.). There was something regal in the way she lounged, even on something as inelegant as a kitchen stool, legs crossed in a prim, enticing way that Emma had been failing not to notice.

The statement was the closest Regina was likely to get to asking her what was wrong. It must have been a little bit like muscle atrophy, Emma had decided. The woman was so unused to expressing an interest in the goings on of others, or, indeed, to having others express an interest in her, that she didn't quite know how to ask with any degree of social decorum. She would find other ways of coaxing out the information she wanted.

Ways that usually involved roundabout insults.

It probably said all sorts of horrible things about Emma's Psyche that she found that endearing.

"Saturday. My Henry Saturday." She decided to spit it all out at once, not even looking at the brunette hovering behind her. "The kid decided he wanted to spend it at that 'Movie night in the park' thing. And he wanted you to come with us, if you'd like."

"He wants me there?" She sounded unconcerned, as light as if they were discussing the weather, but Emma had seen enough to know just how much it meant to her. It'd been weeks since Emma had heard the boy refer to his mother as 'evil' but those wounds weren't going away any time soon.

"Yeah. I do too, actually." Too much. Emma back pedaled. "I mean, it would be fun. The three of us."

"I think… That sounds lovely."

"Great. I'll pick you guys up—"

"No. I refuse to go anywhere in that rolling coffin you call a car."

"What's wrong with my car? That thing's seen me through a lot." The yellow beast was a piece of junk, but a reliable piece of junk.

Silence greeted her and she didn't need to look around to know she was being affixed with a steely glare.

"Oookay then. We'll walk. Not a big deal."

"That would be agreeable."

Emma let out the breath she'd been unaware of holding and went back to scrubbing.

'It's not a date.' She scolded herself. 'It can't be a date when the other person has no inkling of your intentions. And, you know, you're taking your kid out with you.'

Just a testing of the waters.

She got that little fluttery feeling in her chest all the same.