15
Heart to Hearts
A/N: For the reviewer who asked how Regina became a toddler, please read the last chapter of The Gold Standard to find out.
At the gift shop, Snow purchased a paperweight for her desk at school, it was a glass globe with the Empire State Building in it. She said it would go nicely next to the ceramic apple one Regina had gotten her for her birthday, which David had told her the child had picked out herself, it was a Golden Delicious apple.
They were selling drinks and snacks in the lobby, and Henry got a Coke in a souvenir cup with the Empire State Building on it, and Alina and Regina shared a large New York pretzel with honey mustard sauce. Henry and Emma shared a cinnamon raisin one, Bae and Rumple shared a butter sesame one, and Snow and Belle had a toffee chip pretzel. Just to be different, David had a pretzel dog with mustard.
Afterwards, they walked around a bit, and then went to eat some lunch at a local Chinese place. The food was excellent, though after eating most of a large pretzel Regina wasn't very hungry, and played with her pork lo mein, picking it up and flinging it on Henry's plate and yelling, "Here, Henry! Eat some worms!"
"Regina, shh!" he whispered to her. "Not so loud, and you eat that. I've got my sesame chicken."
"Aww, but dontcha want some worms?" she pouted.
"Not right now," he said.
She turned to Rumple, who was sitting on her left, eating his butterfly shrimp with bacon and fried rice. "Unca Rumple! Try some of my wriggly worms."
Rumple held up his hand. "No, dearie. I'm fine."
Sulking, because neither of her seatmates would play with her, the toddler came up with the brilliant idea to catapult her lo mein across the table at David. "Hey, Daddy! Eat some fried worms!" she called, and put some of her noodles on her spoon and shot it over to her father.
David was in the middle of taking a bite of his steamed dim sum when lo mein hit him in the mouth.
"What the hell?" he cried, wiping noodles off his face.
Regina cracked up, laughing hysterically. "Funny, Daddy!"
Henry started snickering into his napkin, but quickly stopped when Bae gave him a Look from across the table.
"Young lady, you quit throwing food!" David said sternly. "That is not funny."
Regina pouted. "O-kay," she muttered. Bored, she pushed around her lo mein on her plate.
Rumple looked at her and said, "Better eat that, imp. Or else no ice cream."
"Uh huh!" she huffed. "I is too gettin' ice cream!" she told him imperiously.
"Not unless you eat four bites of that," Rumple said, and he pointed to her plate.
"Three. I makes you a deal!"
Snow, Bae, and Alina started laughing then.
Rumple shook his head. "No deals, dearie. Eat your food."
He turned around to ask Belle if she wanted more iced tea, she was eating wonton soup and an egg roll, and just as he did so—splat! Something hit him on the ear.
"Regina!" Belle scolded.
Just as the lo mein on Rumple's head fell onto his lap.
"Oops!" Regina sang, her face alight with the devil's own smirk.
Rumple turned around, wiping off his hair and lap with a napkin, and scowling at the impudent minx. "You're done, Miss Nolan. No ice cream for you."
Regina started sniffling. "No! I want ice cream!"
"Too bad. Little girls who misbehave and don't eat their lunch don't get any," he said sternly.
"Mommy, I can have some right?" she turned to look at Snow, who was frowning at her daughter over her chicken and broccoli.
"No. You didn't listen to Daddy or Uncle Rumple, so now you don't get dessert."
The little girl's face crumpled. Huge tears formed in her eyes and she started crying. "Please, Mommy! I want some ice cream! Please!"
"Sorry," Snow said. "You were told not to throw your food and you did it anyway, so now you suffer the consequences."
"It's no fair! You're mean! You're not my mommy anymore!"
Snow, who had heard that before whenever Regina didn't get her way, just shrugged it off.
But the child's comment angered Emma, who said softly, "Don't you say that, young lady!"
"Emma, she's just being a pill," Snow began. "She doesn't mean it like you think."
"I don't care. She shouldn't ever say that to you," Emma snapped. She rose to her feet and came around the table. "Come here, Regina. I think you and I need to have a little talk." She picked up the crying toddler and began to walk away.
"Emma, what are you doing?" Snow asked, half-rising to go after her.
David gently caught her arm. "Snow, leave her be. Let her work this out with her sister."
"David, she's overreacting," Snow began.
"No, dearie. She's not," Rumple disagreed. Personally, he would have given the toddler a swat for saying such a thing, considering it the height of disrespect, as bad as swearing at your parent.
"Uh oh," Henry murmured to Alina. "Now Regina's in for it. Mom was wearing her interrogation face."
"What's that?" Alina asked.
"It's what she wears when she's going to make a suspect spill their guts," Henry replied.
Alina winced. "Oh, well. You know, she did ask for it."
"I know, but . . . I still feel kind of sorry for her," Henry sighed.
"But next time she'll know better," his best friend said. "You just don't say that to your mama. If I'd ever done that . . . Papa would've spanked me good."
"I said that once. To the old Regina," Henry admitted.
"What'd she do?" Alina wanted to know.
"She took away my fairy tale book. I'd have rather been spanked," he replied.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
Emma took Regina into the lobby beside the large fish tank where white and orange koi swam about amid a lot of sea plants and a rocky shelf, the tank was almost as long as the wall where you waited to get seated. She sat down in a chair beside the tank and put the still sniveling toddler in her lap.
"Hey. Quit it with those crocodile tears and listen to me," she ordered in a no-nonsense tone. This was the first time she'd ever really disciplined the child, usually she left that kind of thing to her parents. But this time was different.
"Emma, I w-want ice cream!" Regina hiccupped.
"Never mind that. You don't deserve ice cream after what you said to Mom. Matter of fact, what you deserve is a good swat for saying that to her."
"She's mean!"
Emma shook her head. "No, she's not. You are for saying something like that. Mean and nasty. And acting like a spoiled selfish little brat."
"I'm not a brat, Emma," Regina protested.
"If you say stuff like that, oh yes you are. Because only spoiled brats ever tell their moms they don't want them. When I was your age, I'd have killed to have a mom like that. One who hugged me and tucked me in at night and was there to fix up my scrapes when I fell or told me she was proud of me and read me stories. You know that?" Emma said, her voice suddenly gone slightly hoarse as the old pain surfaced.
Regina stared at her, her dark eyes wide. "Why didn't she?"
"Because I got lost . . . and I grew up without her," Emma said honestly. Then she said, "But that's beside the point. She's here for you, Regina . . . and what you said to her today really hurt her. She loves you a lot. She's done things for you that you don't even realize, and you should never say such a thing. Not ever! You're lucky to have a mom like her, Regina Nolan. And a dad too. And an uncle like Rumple. Lucky. A lot of kids don't ever have that."
"They don't?"
"Nope. Some kids don't ever have any of that," Emma said quietly. Like me. "They don't have any family at all. And they go to bed every night and dream of what you've got . . . and they wish for a nice family like you have . . . but most times they never get one."
"How come?"
"Because . . . their parents died . . . or left . . . or something . . . but you've got a great family, kid. And you need to start appreciating that. And quit acting like a selfish little snot. Unless you want to be in trouble all the time and have everybody mad at you and hurt Mommy's feelings?" Emma said sharply.
Regina shook her head. She didn't like having Mommy and Daddy mad at her, or Uncle Rumple, or Emma either. She recalled that even Henry and Alina had given her looks of disappointment as Emma was carrying her away, and she didn't like it at all. She gazed up at her sister, her little mouth trembling. "You mad at me, Emma?"
"Yeah, I am," her sister said honestly.
"M'sorry," the little scamp sniffled.
"I'm not the one you need to say sorry to," Emma told her. "Mommy is. And you also should say sorry to Uncle Rumple, for throwing food on him. Dad too. That was not nice. Only rude nasty brats do that."
"I'm not a nasty brat! I'm not!"
"No? Then stop acting like one."
"Okay, Emma."
"You promise?"
"Uh huh."
"Because you ever say something like that to Mom again, and you'll be in serious trouble, kid. With me."
"Like when Unca Rumple says that?" she clarified.
"Yup. Just like that," Emma nodded.
Regina shook her head. "No. I'll be good. Promise."
"You'd better be, kid. Otherwise, you're going to be very sorry. Got me?"
"Yes. M'sorry I was bad."
"I know. Just remember what I said, okay?"
The little girl nodded. She was no longer angry with her mother. Instead she felt upset and guilty.
Emma wasn't sure how much of what she'd said actually got through to the child, but she hoped that some of it had. "Okay, chatterbox. Let's go back inside and you can tell Mom, Dad, and Uncle Rumple you're sorry."
"Okay, Emma. Then can I have ice cream?" she wheedled.
"Kid, what did Mom say?"
"No."
"Then it's no," Emma reiterated. "Now don't sulk. Your face will freeze that way. Next time behave and you won't have to worry about not getting any ice cream."
The three-year-old stuck out her lower lip in a rather adorable pout. She didn't like what Emma had said, but realized that was what happened to naughty children who said they didn't want their mothers. "I love Mommy, Emma. I don't want her to go away."
"Good. Then let's go back and you tell her so," Emma said. Maybe she had done the right thing after all, and she wasn't half-bad at this parenting stuff.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
After they had returned and Regina had given heartfelt apologies to Snow, David, and Rumple, she actually sat and ate some of her lunch, which Rumple reheated with a quick spell. By then most of the rest of the family was finished, and a few of them got some chocolate or green tea or coconut ice cream.
An unhappy Regina watched, but didn't ask for any, knowing she wasn't allowed. She didn't like it, but she did understand, at least as far as a three-year-old could, why.
Henry looked over at her and whispered, "Hey, if you're good, maybe tomorrow you can have some ice cream."
Regina nodded eagerly. She decided she would try very hard to be good, so she wouldn't be in serious trouble with Emma and Snow wouldn't go away like all those other kids mommies that Emma had told her about.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
After they'd arrived back at the suite, Snow put Regina down for a nap, then she and David played a trivia game with Henry on his tablet while Rumple took a nap as well, and Alina and Belle played Words With Friends with Bae and Emma took a shower, getting ready for her date night with Baelfire, as it was their turn to go out that night.
They had reservations at The Palm for two and later decided to go to Aria nightclub on the subway, since Emma said it had been a long time since she'd gone clubbing anywhere, the last time had been in Phoenix, over ten years ago, when they'd been starry-eyed kids with heads full of dreams and hearts full of love.
When they arrived at The Palm, with Emma in a sweet crimson strapless number by Chanel, elegant, classy, but it showed off her figure in ways that made her husband long to rip off her clothes and forget the dinner . . . almost, and Bae in a smart classic black Saville Row tux with a matching Ferragamo tie (borrowed from Rumple), looking sweet enough to eat with a spoon, as Emma said, they found their table ready and waiting for them.
The Palm was a very fancy place, with red velvet drapes, a lovely view of the Hudson, and a class A cuisine, though it had food that you still could pronounce on the menu, as Emma put it. They found a chilled bottle of Dom Perignon sitting at their table, and Emma's eyes widened. "Holy God, Bae! Do not tell me you spent $150 on a bottle of bubbly."
"Okay, wild swan. Not telling," he replied, his mouth curving in a roguish grin as he seated her.
She grabbed his hand. "Tell me!"
"I didn't," he said.
"Then who—aww hell!" she gasped. "Did he really?"
"Really and truly, dearie," her husband drawled, mimicking Rumple to a T. "Shall I do the honors?"
"Be my guest," she answered. "You know, we're going to have to do something equally nice for him and Belle when it's their turn."
"I know. He did the same thing for Snow and David." Bae said, undoing the cork and pouring some of the frothy amber liquid for each of them.
"You've got to be kidding! What is he—nuts?" She took the glass he held out.
"Seeing as it's my father—sometimes," Bae laughed, and sipped his own champagne. "Seriously, though, you know how he likes to give surprises."
"Yeah, like diamond necklaces and Versace wedding gowns," Emma nodded, then she groaned in bliss after tasting her drink. "This stuff's so good it ought to be illegal."
"Mmm . . . hon, you look so good in that dress, it ought to be illegal," her husband said, giving her a leisurely eye. "You make me want to pull you across this table and commit several criminal acts with you."
"Oh, yeah?" she smirked. "What's stopping you?"
"We're in public . . . and I really don't want to get arrested. Unless you're the one doing it."
"Left my cuffs at home, lover boy," she said regretfully. "But there's always your tie." Then she started laughing. "Oh my God! Did I really just say that?"
"Yup. But if I wreck Papa's tie playing with it like that, I'll be in serious trouble," he returned, then he cracked up as well.
"Like grounded till you're fifty?" she teased, her blue eyes sparkling.
"Uh . . . yeah. In a tower."
"I'd come rescue you," she chuckled. "I'm good at jailbreaks. And sneaking out of windows."
"That's my kind of princess," he grinned, and they clinked glasses together.
As she drank, Emma looked around and said, "You know, this place is so posh I'm afraid to use the napkins just in case I wreck them." She indicated the fine white serviettes. "They probably cost more than my shoes."
"You ought to be used to that, considering that you'd be royalty," Bae remarked, buttering a roll. "It's me who ought to be intimidated. I'm just the son of a country spinner and his piece of fluff."
"Who can spin straw into gold," she murmured, eating one also.
"He only learned that when I was gone. And if we'd all stayed in our old world, you and I would probably have never met. Princesses don't usually date the kid that polishes her boots," Bae said matter-of-factly.
"Then I'm so glad we didn't grow up there," Emma said sincerely. "Because I would have said to hell with this and run off with you and created a scandal worse than any in Hollywood."
"Thanks, babe. I'm the luckiest man alive. In any world."
"Same here. I love you, Bae Gold. You doth teach the torches to burn bright," Emma smirked.
"Quoting Shakespeare now, are you?"
"Blame Belle. Since I met her, I started reading more."
"You know, they die in the end."
"I'm changing the ending," she replied impishly. "I'm the savior, I can do that. It's my other superpower."
"You mean besides the power to make a guy forget his own name when he sees you?" Bae queried naughtily.
"What's your name, mister?"
"I knew it a moment ago, swear to God," he snickered. "See what I mean?"
"Boy, that champagne's stronger than I thought," she said, and drank some more.
"Not strong enough to make me forget I love you, Emma Swan Gold," he said. "Besides I already know the ending to this tale."
"And it's actually true," she smiled at him. "Okay, let's see what they've got, shall we?" She perused the menu. "Hmm . . .I think I'll have the clams casino."
"What, no oysters?"
"Nah. They're slimy . . . and overrated."
"I'm having the seared ahi tuna," he said.
"Nostalgic?"
"A little. Master Kitaro would have loved you, Emma."
"He taught you a lot, didn't he?"
"Yeah, but most of it wasn't in any book. He's the reason I followed my heart and found you again. And found the family I'd thought lost forever. He's why I've got my happy ending now. Because he taught me how to live without regrets and to realize that the past is written on sand, and can always be washed away and you can start over. If you want to bad enough."
"He sounded like a wise man."
"He was. But he told me once he didn't get that way by sitting in a temple day after day. That once he made mistakes too, and learned the hard way how to correct them. He had a daughter once, and I'm guessing something happened to her, but he never really said. What he did say was that sometimes the best things come out of the worst mistakes you'll ever make."
"I really would have liked him," Emma said sincerely. "What are you getting?"
"I think I'll have the veal Martini," Bae said, pointing to a dish of tender veal cutlets with shallots, mushrooms, fresh and sundried tomatoes in a broth of marsala, white wine, and fresh basil.
"Sounds incredible. But I think I'll go with a New York strip with their signature peppercorn brandy sauce, three-cheese potatos Au Gratin, and green beans with pancetta," Emma read her choices aloud.
"I can't wait to taste it," he said slyly.
"Hey . . . didn't your papa ever teach you not to steal people's food?" she mock-scolded.
"Nope. I ran away before he got to that lesson," Bae replied. "But he taught me how to hold onto something good once I found it . . . and that it's never too late to say I love you."
"Then he taught you everything you need to know," Emma said. "We can trade halfway through . . . unless you eat all yours before I even take two bites."
"What are you saying? That I'm a pig?" he demanded, pretending to be insulted.
"Nope. That you eat too fast," she giggled.
"Guilty as charged. There's only one thing I love to do that I'm good at going slow at," he said silkily.
"What's that?" she purred.
"Show you later."
"That a deal?"
"Sure is, wild swan."
"Hurry up and eat, Bae."
He winked at her and almost choked on his Dom Perignon from laughing so hard.
Page~*~*~*~Break
The food was out of this world, and they did trade dishes, so each could experience the deliciousness of the other's entrée. Emma made eyes at Bae the whole time she was eating, and the air fairly sizzled between them.
He put a bite of steak in his mouth, then whispered, "You know, sheriff, if looks were illegal, we'd both be in jail till we were old and gray."
"Well, at least we'd enjoy being locked up," she replied with a sultry grin. "Want dessert?"
"Sure. But I've got something for you first," he pulled out a small oblong box from his jacket pocket.
"What's this?"
"Open it and see. It's something rare and precious, like my wife."
"Oh my God! Bae, this better not be a diamond bracelet or a watch or something."
"Better. It's something we can share. Now open it."
Emma did, and found several chocolate truffles dusted with cinnamon inside. "Oh! What are these?"
"They're called cinnamon chocolate explosions. Henry came up with the name. We made them for you at FAO Schweetz," Bae said.
"You made me a candy? Bae, that's so . . .awesome!" She popped one in her mouth. "Mmm! Now these should definitely be illegal. Here." She handed him a truffle.
He ate it, sighing in bliss. "Yeah. They're one-of-a-kind. Just like you."
"We can skip the club," she murmured, eating another one. "On second thought, we need to go there. So I can go to sleep and not worry about the ten pounds I've gained."
"I knew you were going to say that," he said. "Don't be a hog, Emma. There's enough for two in that box."
"You did that on purpose," she said, handing him another one.
"Sure did. Because the best things come together."
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
The Aria was jumping, and Bae and Emma were only too happy to join the others on the floor and dance to the swift moving Latin dance tunes, and the nostalgic 80's tunes, like Van Halen's Jump and Jackson Browne's In the Shape of a Heart. Somewhere in the middle of the disco version of the Macarena, Bae ditched his jacket on a chair of their table, saying it was too hot for it.
Emma chuckled. "If we were alone . . ." she whispered seductively in his ear as she twirled about him.
"Later," he said huskily, his eyes promising a happy ending to all her wicked fantasies.
Mambo Number Five came on, and as they were boogying to the old favorite, Bae heard someone cry, "Neal? Is that you?" in Japanese.
He turned, startled, and saw a familiar face. "Kenji? What the hell are you doing here, old pal?" he gasped in the same language and dialect, which he'd learned from his friend standing behind him.
Emma looked from her husband to the smallish Asian man in the black trousers and bright blue shirt grinning at Bae. "Who's this?"
"Kenji, say hi to my wife, Emma," Bae said, taking Emma's hand and moving back off the dance floor to their table so they could talk properly. "Emma, this is Kenji Tanaka, he's Kitaro's nephew. And also his student, way back when."
"A pleasure to meet you," Kenji said, speaking in flawless English. "Are you the one he was pining over when he was in Tokyo?"
"Nice to meet you. And the answer better be yes, Neal," Emma said.
"You were," Bae assured her. "See, I took your advice, pal, and I married her."
"Thank God. Because otherwise I'd have spent more time picking you up off the barroom floor," Kenji laughed.
"Aww, shut up! If I remember right, I was the one who carried your sorry ass home after double sake shots one night," Bae pointed out, clapping him on the shoulder. "And I covered for you with Master Kitaro."
Kenji looked amused. "Surely you don't think he actually fell for that stomach virus bit?"
"No, but hey, I wasn't lying. You were puking your guts up all night."
"Don't remind me," his friend grimaced. "That was not the most memorable end to a birthday I've had. So what are you doing here, Neal? Thought you moved back to Arizona?"
"I did, but then I found Emma in Maine, along with my dad, and I changed venues and now I live up there with her, my son, and the rest of my family," Bae told him.
"Your father? But . . . didn't he die in a plane crash?" Kenji asked.
"My adopted one did, yeah. But I'm talking about my birth father," Bae clarified.
"You mean . . . you found him after all these years?"
"Yeah, along with his new family. He remarried and has a wife and a daughter and one more on the way now. It's all good. I go by Gold now, by the way. That's my real name. That's what we're doing in Manhattan, having a family vacation," Bae said.
Kenji whistled. "I'll be damned. Guess Uncle was right after all. He always said to go back and make peace with your past and all your demons would vanish."
"And he was right. As usual. How about you? You finally marry Maya or did she run off with that other guy?"
"Haji? Hell, no. I proposed before he could get out of his Lexus. She's over there, getting something to drink," Kenji said. He pointed to the bar, where a lovely dark-haired woman in a black dress was leaning on the bar. "Best thing I ever did. We've got two girls, twins. And you've got a son?"
"Yeah. He's with my parents," Bae said. "Actually both our parents, since we're all here at the Plaza. You here on vacation too?"
"Business, but Maya flew down to spend a long weekend with me."
"From Japan?" Emma blinked.
"No. Pennsylvania," Kenji answered. "She's from the States, and she's over here for the summer, visiting her family. We're both attorneys, but I had to come here and finish up a case my firm was working on. And Maya and I decided we needed some me-and-you time, so here we are. It's great to see you again, Neal."
"You too," said Bae, smiling at him. "Small world, isn't it?"
"There are no coincidences, as my uncle would say," Kenji said. "Maya, look what the wind blew in," he called to his wife, who was returning with two drinks in her hands.
"Neal? Oh my God!" Maya cried. "Here, hold these," she thrust the drinks at Kenji and hugged Baelfire. "How are you? Did you ever open up that dojo you said you wanted to?"
"Sure did, Maya. And found that girl I said I lost too. Maya, meet my wife, Emma," Bae introduced the perky brunette to his wife.
They shook hands, and Maya explained she had been an exchange student going to university in Tokyo and that was where she had met Neal and Kenji.
The two couples chatted and had a few drinks and danced together until they were tripping over their own feet and Kenji said they'd better stop before they embarrassed themselves by doing themselves an injury. Or someone else.
"Because the last thing I need is to be involved in a lawsuit," he laughed.
"Been there, done that," Maya chuckled.
"Yeah, and Emma's off duty, she's the sheriff in our town," Bae told them.
"Really? And how'd you two meet?" asked Maya.
"It was over a car," Emma said.
"You pulled him over?" the other woman asked.
"Something like that."
"I knew it! I always told him one day he was gonna end up arrested," Kenji teased.
"Look who's talking. I seem to remember a certain somebody needing me to post bail and begging me not to tell his uncle," Bae recalled.
"It was a misunderstanding . . ."
"Sure it was, hon," Maya snorted. "Haji just happened to misunderstand when you beat the crap out of him for kissing me." She looked at Emma. "Haji was the guy I used to date and we were just about over when I met Kenji and he didn't like the fact I chose Kenji over his blue-blood pompous self."
"So I taught him a lesson in manners," Kenji said ruefully. "And the little ass couldn't handle it and pressed charges for assault. And since I was a martial arts student of my uncle's . . . well, for awhile there I was in trouble, but Neal helped me out."
"He's good at that," Emma said, and hugged her husband.
"It was great seeing you guys," Bae told them. "How long are you here for?"
"Tomorrow's our last day, then it's back to Penn we go," Maya said regretfully. "But hey, here's my email, so we can keep in touch." She scribbled it down on a napkin and handed it to Bae.
"Yeah, don't be a stranger, Neal," Kenji said, and then they both laughed.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
Emma and Bae got back to the suite after midnight, happy and slightly drunk from drinking rum wallbangers with Maya and Kenji. As they unlocked the door of the suite, Emma said, "It's a good thing we took the subway back, Bae. Because if I was driving, it wouldn't be a good thing."
"Tell me about it. You'd have to arrest yourself for a DWI," her husband sniggered.
"Or you for indecent exposure," she giggled, pointing to his shirt, which had the three top buttons undone.
"This? This is indecent? What'd you grow up in a convent?"
"It is when you consider the thoughts I'm having," Emma said, and then she pulled him inside and shut the door. Then she tripped over his foot. "Hey! Watch those big feet of yours, Bozo."
He grabbed her before she fell and hugged her to him. "Come on, Em. Thought you didn't want to be like all those other girls, fainting at my feet. Besides, you know what they say."
"What who says?" she murmured, kissing him ardently.
"The size of a guy's shoe equals the size of something else," he said wickedly.
"Don't I know it," she smirked and then started to giggle helplessly. "Thank God no one's awake to see us like this."
"Yeah, because I'd have some 'splainin' to do to your papa, Emma," Bae said wryly. "Here. I'll carry you."
"No, Bae . . . really I can walk . . ." she protested as he picked her up.
"For about three steps, yeah. God, I feel like I'm sixteen and I have to help you sneak back into the house without anybody knowing."
"If that's the case, I'd have shot you by now," David said, sticking his head out from the kitchenette.
Bae and Emma both jumped. "Hell, David! You want to give me a heart attack?"
"Maybe. How come you're carrying Emma?"
"Uh . . . it's a long story," Bae began, looking slightly guilty.
"It usually is, dearie," Rumple said from behind them.
"Oh my God, Rumple!" Emma gasped. "What is this, the welcoming committee? Or is this one of those nostalgic things you two never got to do so you're doing it now kind of thing?"
"You mean waiting up with my shotgun?" David grinned.
"Uh . . . something like that," Emma snickered.
"Or giving the it's past midnight, now where the hell were you speech?" Bae said.
"We already know where you were. Now what the hell were you doing, young man?" Rumple teased, shaking his finger at them playfully.
"Uh . . . I don't think you want to know, Papa," Bae said, his eyes glinting.
"Yeah, otherwise he'll be in serious trouble," Emma said, her eyes twinkling.
"Like shot dead?" David asked, deadpan.
"Or grounded for life," Rumple added.
Bae shot Emma a rueful glance. "It's your fault. I knew you were trouble the minute I saw you."
"Like hell. Your middle name's trouble, right, Rumple?" Emma snorted.
"It could be, dearie," Rumple said slyly.
"Yeah, well at least I never stole a car!" Bae objected.
"You did worse. You stole my daughter," Charming said, pretending to be annoyed.
"Mea culpa!" Bae admitted.
"Where did we go wrong?" Rumple asked David mournfully.
"We forgot to lock the door to the dungeon," Charming said, and then they all chuckled.
"Seriously, though, how was your dinner?" Rumple queried.
"It was fantastic. And so was the champagne, Papa," Bae told him. "Thanks!"
"Yeah, it was incredible, Rumple. Just like your son," Emma declared.
"You're welcome, dearie. Nice to know I did something right," her father-in-law smiled. "She's got her father's charm."
"And her mother's smile," David said. "How was the club?"
"It was good. We danced, we drank, we met some old friends of Bae's, and then we danced and drank some more," Emma said.
"And we managed not to get arrested," Bae said, cocking an eyebrow at Emma.
"Arrested?" Rumple repeated. "Do I want to know?"
"No!" They chorused.
"I think I need a drink," David said, rolling his eyes.
"Name your poison, Nolan. We have water, iced coffee, and fruit punch," Rumple said, pulling a water bottle out of the fridge.
"I knew I should have saved some of that champagne," David lamented.
"You snooze, you lose, Dad," Emma snickered.
"Can you believe the disrespect I have to put up with?" David said to Rumple. "Unbelievable!"
"You know, we should have beaten them more often."
"Yeah, maybe we should've," David agreed.
"Hey!" their offspring cried.
"Just kidding, dearies," Rumple smirked. He tossed David a water.
"Okay, I'm going to bed," Bae said.
"Me too!" Emma said, smiling goofily up at her husband. "But we won't be doing too much sleeping, right, Bae?"
David almost choked on his water. "How much did she have?"
"I don't think you want to know, dearie," Rumple said.
"Okay, good night!" Bae called, cuddling Emma to him. "C'mon, Em. Before you say something worse and he really does shoot my ass." He started to walk out of the room.
"I'd kiss it better, love," she leered.
"Emma! My God!" Charming snapped.
Rumple laid a hand on his arm. "They're married, David. Remember?"
"Good thing. Otherwise I really would shoot him."
"And then you'd end up a slug," Rumple said softly.
"Like I said, it's a good thing they're married."
There was the sound of something banging.
"Bae! You're supposed to open the door, idiot!"
"I was going to, but my hands were full!"
"All you had to do was let go and turn the knob."
"And dump you on the floor? Okay, sweetheart."
"I can't believe you forgot how to open a door, Gold!"
"Sorry I don't have three hands, princess," Bae growled.
"Damn! I wish you did."
"Maybe we ought to go help them," David muttered.
"No. It's more amusing to watch them try to open the door fifty times and take pictures on my phone," Rumple said with a sly grin. "Like this," then he went and snapped a picture. Bae and Emma—Punch Drunk Love.