prompt: snowball fight
prompted by: arianakristine
There's a little more than a week until Christmas and Storybrooke has just gotten its first snowfall of the season. For some reason the small Maine town has no plow system in place and, as such, school has miraculously been cancelled.
So Emma is at Granny's with Henry, drinking hot cocoa (Madame Mayor had to work and technically so did Emma, but Graham – wonderful, loving, sweet Graham – had told her to go ahead and spend the time with her son).
"It's never snowed before," the kid says, surprising her, "'Cause of the curse."
"This is your first snowfall ever?" Emma asks. She has a hard time believing that. They're in Maine, for God's sake.
"Yep," Henry nods, taking a sip of his drink. He's bundled up tightly and Emma wonders why he even has so much winter gear if it's never been needed, but she won't question. Not that. It's proof that Regina is taking good care of him.
"So you've never… Built a snowman, made a snow angel… Had a snowball fight?" Even she'd done those things, on the school playgrounds during recess. When the snow came, the other kids kind of forgot to exclude her the way they usually would during the year. Not that she was complaining.
"Nope," he confirms.
"Well, we are going to change that," she smiles, an idea coming to her, "C'mon," she slaps enough money down on the table to cover their drinks and a tip for Ruby, "Gloves on. This is perfect packing snow. Ruby?"
"Yeah, Emma?" her friend smiles at her.
"In about ten minutes, I want you to call Graham and tell him Leroy's gotten drunk a little early and tell him I need his help."
"Is that even legal?" Ruby asks skeptically.
"I won't let Graham fine you or stick you in jail, if that's what you're asking."
"Okay then," Ruby smiles.
Henry follows her eagerly back to the station, where they hunker down on the far side of the cruiser from the door. Emma makes a few snowballs, to show Henry the technique, and he gets it quickly.
"Now, when the door opens and Graham comes out, we jump up, and we throw them at him, got it?" she whispers when time is almost up.
"Got it," Henry agrees with a grin.
Everything is still for a moment, and then she hears the station door open, hears Graham's boots crunching in the snow, and she grabs two of the snowballs they've made and leaps up, letting them fly, while Henry does the same next to her.
Henry's aim is off, for both snowballs, and she misses with one, but the second hits him right in the chest.
He looks down at the spattering of snow over his heart, and then back up at her, and his eyes light up mischievously. He bends down, scooping up a handful of snow and forming it into a ball.
Emma grabs another off the pile that she and Henry made to threaten self-defense with, and they're both standing there, poised to throw.
"Henry," Graham says, "I would switch teams if I were you. Because as the deputy well knows – I never miss."
Emma's eyes widen and she throws her missile, letting out a little shriek and diving to grab another, only to find that Henry is guarding the whole pile.
"Traitor," she hisses, then grabs some snow and packs it quickly. She makes her way to the back of the cruiser, then pops up and throws at Graham again.
Soon the three of them are throwing snowballs at each other indiscriminately, laughing and yelling as they use the car as a shield. Graham both hits the others the most and gets hit the least, which she is sure Henry will attribute to his fairytale counterpart supposedly being the Huntsman. Emma herself is covered in the most snow, since Henry's aim is getting steadily better as he goes and Graham is directing the bulk of his attacks at her.
After a while, they are all winded and out of breath, their cheeks red from both the cold and the excitement.
"Truce?" Emma calls from her hiding spot at the trunk.
"Are you giving up, Deputy Swan?" Graham calls back.
"If that's what it takes to get inside and get warmed up, yeah," she yells back.
"Truce accepted, then."
Emma stands up to head inside and is suddenly pelted by a barrage from both Henry and Graham.
"What happened to truce?" she glares at them.
"Couldn't let the ammo go to waste," Graham shrugs, coming over to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Henry is waiting at the door and they all head inside.
"So when do we get to do the other stuff you talked about, building a snowman and making snow angels and whatever?" Henry asks, practically bouncing with happiness, as the three of them take off their snow-covered outerwear, depositing it in the small shower in the station bathroom so it doesn't drip all over the place.
"Well," she ruffles her son's hair, "The snow doesn't look like it's letting up anytime soon, and we've still got time before Christmas. We can do snow angels tomorrow and a snowman on Saturday, how about that?"
"Do I get to help with the snowman?" Graham asks.
"Of course you do," Emma turns to her boyfriend and gives him a kiss, "Since you were such a good sport about the snowball fight."
"Come on," he tugs on her hand, smiling, "I'll get some cocoa going for you two."