HEY GUYS! SORRY IT'S TAKEN ME SO LONG TO UPDATE. SCHOOL JUST STARTED SO THINGS ARE CRAZY. THANKS FOR STICKING WITH THIS AND REVIEWING; YOU GUYS REALLY ARE THE BEST. I CAN'T THANK YOU ENOUGH.
DON'T OWN IT.
"James." Snow said, leaning against the kitchen counter, her hands grasping a mug of hot chocolate.
"Yes, Love?" He raised an eyebrow, looking up from the newspaper. He was reading an article about Graham and Emma's wedding by Sydney.
"Where's Boston?"
"I thought he was up with Emma and Graham." Right on cue, something banged in the closet. Only then did James realize the door was slightly ajar.
"Aren't Emma's boots in there?" She asked before rushing over, followed by James. Snow gasped at the sight; the dog was fine, but her daughter's boots most certainly weren't. "We can get them fixed."
"She's going to kill us." James sighed, and picked Boston up. "No more eating stuff." He scolded.
"He's just a puppy, he didn't know." Snow said, speaking to him like a baby. Unfortunately for them, Emma was already half awake when the crash resonated through the castle. By now, she was already walking over to them.
"What fell?" She asked, her voice still groggy from sleep.
"Um, well…" Snow stuttered, meekly holding up the boots in a way that reminded the blonde so much of Mary Margaret. She could tell the woman really did feel bad and so she couldn't be too angry.
"At least they weren't my favorite pair." The blonde shrugged.
"That's very mature of you, Emma." James commended, then handed her the dog. She took him unsurely. "You're not going to break him."
"No, she's mad." Snow narrowed her eyes her eyes, scrutinizing her daughter. "You're doing that deep breathing thing while counting to ten. Last time I saw you do that was when Regina kept you away from Henry. Emma, we completely understand if you're mad. You have every right to be."
"I know, but Boston's my responsibility and I ignored it." She said. Her parents smiled with pride.
"I suppose we didn't need to get you the dog." James sighed. "You're perfectly capable of being mature and taking responsibility when need be."
"I'm 33 years old!" Emma cried indignantly, throwing her hands up in the air with a small smirk. "Of course I'm responsible."
"Whatever you say, Dear." Snow replied, affectionately patting the blonde on the shoulder. "You can start proving it by helping me make breakfast."
"I might be a newlywed and a mother but that doesn't make me a maid!" Still, she followed her mother into the kitchen.
"I know." The brunette smiled patiently. "But it won't hurt to learn a few things, you know, in case I fall off the face of the earth."
"Don't talk like that." Emma said, her voice soft.
"Sorry." She said, her smile morphing from one of patience to that of warmness at her daughter's uncharacteristic vulnerability.
"So what are we making?" Emma snapped her head up, suddenly realizing her previous statement came out without permission, her game face once again on.
"French toast." Snow replied. "Can you crack five eggs?"
"Um… I can try." She said with a smile. Loud footfalls echoed through the castle. Moments later Henry appeared at the bottom of the stairs.
"Hey guys!"
"Shh, Graham's still sleeping." James caught the boy's arm and pulled him into a fierce embrace. "How'd you sleep?"
"It's snowing!"
"Yippee." They heard Snow mutter from the kitchen.
"Can we have a snowball fight?" He asked. Suddenly, Graham barreled down the stairs, a look of shear panic on his face.
"Where's Emma?"
"I'm in here." With a sigh of relief, he headed into the kitchen.
"Thank God. I thought you freaked out again and ran." He hugged her.
"So can we have a snowball fight?" Henry whined.
"Let's eat breakfast first." Emma said, handing him a plate of French toast.
"Did Grandma help you make it?" He asked, wearily eyeing the food.
"Yes." The blonde sighed, exasperated.
"Ok."
"Charming, the first batch is ready!" Snow called.
"It smells amazing." He walked in and took a seat at the table next to Henry.
"It better be." Emma put a plate in front of him. He took a bite and made a 'thumbs up' sign. "Good." The blonde smiled. Snow turned the stove off and handed Emma a plate, and took one for her and Graham, and sat down.
"I think a snowball fight would be fun, Henry." The brunette grinned.
"What?" Graham looked at the two questioningly, the adrenalin of thinking his wife was MIA again starting to wear off.
"He wants to have a snowball fight." Emma filled him in.
"Oh. I need coffee first."
"It's in the pot." Snow said.
"Where's Boston?" The blonde didn't want a repeat of the morning's previous events.
"I'm not sure." James replied. "I'll go find him."
"No, I will. He's my dog." Emma got up. Once she was out of earshot, Snow said,
"See, our plan is working. By the time she has the baby she'll be all set."
"We're not pregnant yet." Graham said glumly.
"It'll happen." She assured him. James looked out the window to avoid glaring at the man.
"Damn dog!" Emma yelled. Boston ran as fast as his little legs could take him through the kitchen, reaching a dead end. The blonde cornered him, her eyes furious. She held up a pair of jeans. "You can't eat these."
"We can fix them, Honey." Snow said in a calm voice.
"Why does he eat all my stuff?" She threw them onto the couch from where she was standing.
"Did you play softball?" James asked.
"Varsity." Emma replied with a huff, sitting back down.
"You're on my team!" Henry announced.
"I'll join them." Snow said.
"Then that's not fair!" Graham exclaimed. "There's only two of us."
"You'll be fine." Snow said in an assuring voice. She got up and put their plates in the sink.
"Can we have the snowball fight now?" Henry asked, already heading to the living room to get his jacket.
"Yes." Emma laughed at her son's enthusiasm, torn jeans forgotten.
I KNOW THIS ONE'S PRETTY SHORT, BUT I WANTED TO GET IT UP FOR YOU GUYS. I'VE ALSO BEEN ASKED ABOUT A STORY I POSTED CALLED "CASTLES", AND I RE-POSTED IT BECAUSE IT COULDN'T BE ACCESSED. I'M HOPING THAT DOES THE TRICK. THANKS FOR READING!