With David off to work at the sheriff's station and Henry off to school, it was just Snow and Emma at home. After filling in some time in the morning, Snow had suggested they head to the diner to meet up with David for lunch. Snow grabbed her handbag and fastened the buttons on her coat and waited for Emma to come back down from her room. And waited. And waited. And waited.

"Emma?" Snow called up the stairs. "What's the hold up?"

There was no reply, so she headed up the stairs.

"Emma?"

Snow was starting to feel a little worried by the fact that Emma wasn't responding… but maybe she'd fallen asleep. Emma had been rather easy to tire out since her transformation. Snow was starting to wonder whether four year olds needed afternoon naps, but she didn't dare voice that opinion to her daughter. Emma was having a hard enough time as it was, with everyone's tendency to treat her like the child she appeared to be.

Emma's room was empty, which didn't make sense, because Snow hadn't seen her leave it and she'd been watching the door for the last half hour straight. She checked the bathroom just in case she'd slipped past without her noticing. Nothing. She went back to Emma's bedroom and frowned. She had to be in here somewhere. Had to be. She pushed down the illogical panic that was rising up within her chest at the idea her daughter might be missing. Now was not the time to panic. There was probably some perfectly reasonable explanation for this.

"Emma, where are you?"

Snow could hear a trace of her fear sneaking out into her voice, despite her best efforts. She took a deep breath and started to search the room. Under the bed, beside the dresser, in the closet…. Wait. There was an old trunk in the bottom of the closet. Snow lifted up the lid, and smiled in relief.

"Emma, what on earth are you doing in there?"

"I don't know," Emma sighed despondently. "Trying to turn myself into a sweater?"

Snow couldn't help but laugh.

"Why would you ever want to be a sweater?!"

"I can't turn myself into an adult, so I thought, hey, let's try something different!" Emma's voice was thick with sarcasm, which sounded a little odd coming from someone small enough to lay flat inside a suitcase.

"So… A sweater?"

"At least then nobody would know it was me," Emma commented, her expression gloomy.

"Oh, Emma," Snow said sympathetically. "Nobody will care. You aren't the first person to have an accident like this. Look at Jiminy!" Snow frowned, "Well, I guess you can't look at Jiminy. But still, at least you aren't a cricket!"

She smiled down at Emma who gave a brief half smile at her mother's attempts to cheer her up.

"Come on Emma," Snow grabbed her daughter's hands and pulled her up. "Let's go find your father. And if anybody gives you a hard time, they'll have me to answer to."

That made Emma giggle. Snow grabbed Emma's coat from the bed and held it out for her daughter to put her arms through.

"What are you laughing at, huh?" Snow joked, "You've seen me do it before! One laugh, and I'll whip out the bow and -"

Snow mimed firing off a shot. Emma doubled over and laughed until she was red in the face. When she calmed down, Snow flipped the back of her coat collar down and took her daughter's hand.

"Okay?" Snow asked.

Emma nodded, still catching her breath.

"You're such a goofball, Mary Margaret" Emma said, and shook her head in amusement as they left the apartment.