No one expected Regina to come to Mary-Margaret's New Year's Bash. The accepted wisdom was that, since Regina's Christmas party had been a success, she would be all set when it came to social interaction until at least Valentine's, and who didn't feel lonely then? But no, Regina walked right into Granny's Diner, ignoring the amount of everyday items being considered as weapons like a Jackie Chan movie was about to break out.

"I made snickerdoodles," she announced, and unceremoniously dropped the Tupperware bowl into Mary-Margaret's lap before sliding in next to Emma in the Charming family booth.

"What are you doing here?" Emma demanded.

"We thought you weren't going to show," Mary-Margaret added, trying to soften the blow.

"I'm fashionably late," Regina replied. "And I would never think of turning down an invitation from the mother of my child. All last night, she went on and on about how she wanted me to come, how she wished I could come right now, how we should come together-"

Emma shotgunned her Long Island Iced Tea before remembering what that led to. "Well, who cares how you got here, so long as you're here!"

"Don't sell yourself short, Sheriff. You were a busy little beaver getting me here."

So that was the way she wanted to play it. Well, two could play at that game, and Emma played dirty. Almost as dirty as Regina's sex acts (she wished she could use that one, but it was a little unsubtle). "It's no big deal," she smiled, "you were easy."

Regina smiled right back, almost proudly. "That's true. Regrettably, when you haven't partied for a while, standards tend to slip."

"Hey!" Mary-Margaret chimed in, like a bell being rung really hard and somehow angrily. "I worked hard on this party!"

"Sorry, Mom." Emma patted her on the shoulder before returning the evil eye to Regina. "Clearly, some people don't know how to show gratitude when they are very, very fortunate."

"I'm very gracious when I get lucky. I made snickerdoodles, after all." Regina got up, one of her cookies in hand. She took a scrumptious bite, moaning in oven-warm ecstasy.

"No one asked for your snickerdoodles!" Emma replied tersely.

Regina leaned back against the wall as if distancing herself from the offending baked goods. "You'd prefer my cupcakes?" she asked, reclining indolently.

"I don't want anything sugary from you!" Emma said, her vocal register climbing to 'testy'. Then she realized what she'd just said. Two seconds, impressive timing for a woman with foot-in-mouth disease, as more than one foster home had diagnosed her. "And no, don't you dare!"

Regina shrugged like the gesture was giving five thousand dollars to Mother Theresa. "Fine, you won't get any sugar from me. But can we fuck each other again?" she added, head tilted like she was genuinely curious.

The diner fell into silence. Even the countdown from Times Square seemed subdued, and Jimmy Fallon was doing the interview. With Nikki Minaj.

Finally, someone spoke. Naturally, it was Henry. "Mom, you said a bad word."

"I'm sorry, Henry." Regina smiled disarmingly at him before facing Emma again with a now sickly sweet grin. "I just thought lovemaking was too nice a word for a bout of hardcore scissoring without even a smidgen of foreplay."

"I was drunk!" Emma protested, looking around like she was hoping for people to be brandishing signs like 'It wasn't Emma's fault!' and 'Club lesbianism isn't a crime.' "Really drunk! 'Tron Legacy is a good idea' drunk!"

"That's not an excuse for bypassing foreplay," Regina told Henry, tapping her nose to indicate he should keep that excellent advice in mind.

Emma frowned until she could've transformed into a badger. "I could've been getting fingered by ET."

Regina took a moment to look complimented, flattening her hand to her heart. Then: "It was nonalcoholic beer."

Emma scoffed. "They're practically the same!"

Grumpy leapt up. "Take it back!"

Mary-Margaret ushered Grumpy back down to his seat and moved to the center of the room, gesturing for calm. "Everyone... Emma, I think it best that we focus on what's really important here. Do you have a drinking problem?"

Emma flipped like she had either seen a snake or just parsed Mary-Margaret's words. "What?"

David stood up beside Mary-Margaret. "The first step is admitting you have a problem."

Belle reached out to take Emma's hand, which Regina observed with amusement and a little jealousy. "When I was young, I abused pixie dust. It made me feel like I was flying."

"That's what pixie dust does!" Emma said shrilly.

"Yes, it is." Belle squeezed Emma's hand. "But with help, I got clean."

Regina stepped up to pull Belle away from Emma, giving her a teensy finger-poke back to her chair. "Emma is not an alcoholic."

"Thank you!" Emma cried.

"Anytime, babe." Regina brushed a lock of hair out of Emma's eyes.

Emma pulled it back. "Stop that!"

"Don't push me away," Regina said with puppy dog eyes. "Let me in."

Emma stumbled back from Regina, catching herself on the bar. All eyes were on her, so she bowed graciously. "Alright, everybody, yes, I had sex with Regina."

"And I was spectacular," Regina said with raised finger.

"But it was a one-time thing," Emma stressed. She counted off on her fingers. "I was lonely, I thought I was drunk, and c'mon, look at her." Regina flapped her jacket a little. "I hope we can all be mature and never speak of this again. I mean, why would you?"

"I'm pregnant," Regina announced.

"Oh, fuck you!"

Henry: "Mom, you said-"

"Yes, I know I said a bad word. And you know what?" Emma grabbed Grumpy's drink and finished it off, shaking off the kick before continuing. "It was exactly the right fucking word to use!" she shouted. "If I had used that word in Scrabble, I would get like a quintuple fucking word score. And if a girl ever says you knocked her up when you don't have a penis, I expect you to say 'Fuck that!'"

"Emma doesn't have a penis," Regina reported. "I can vouch for that." She sat down on a stool. "Can someone rub my tired, pregnant feet?"

Emma stepped forward, with Regina looking overjoyed she'd volunteered, until Emma pulled her to her feet and pointed her toward the door. "Regina, I think you'd better leave, taking your demon seed with you," she hissed in her ear. "Find a sucker without a high school understanding of biology. I suggest a high school."

"All I know is that I haven't so much as flirted with anyone since that night with David." Regina winked at him. "And it's not like there are a lot of men in this town who'd have sex with the Evil Queen."

Emma rubbed at her sinuses, trying to get at the migraine building there. "Everyone here who'd have sex with Regina, raise your hand."

Regina tried to raise Emma's for her. She pulled away just in time to see Mary-Margaret raising her hand.

"Eww, Mom? Put your hand down!"

"I'm trying to be supportive."

Emma looked around, seeing a lot of lowered hands. "Really? No one? I'm not even that gay-"

"Your mouth was last night," Regina had slunk behind the bar and was mixing a drink from the adult beverages in the icebox. "Along with most of your fingers."

"Don't test me, Regina!" Emma stabbed a finger at her. "I won't hit a pregnant woman, but I'll play Maroon 5 music while your baby is in the womb. He will get used to Maroon 5 music as a fetus, and for the rest of your life, if you want your baby to go to sleep, you'll play Maroon 5!"

"Let's all calm down," David urged.

"Go tea-bag yourself, Charming!" Emma yelled before her voice ran into a wall. "Sorry, Dad, I don't like being told what to do," she finished tinily.

"Here, have a drink." Regina set one in Emma's hand. Emma jerked her hand away, sloshing some into Sister Astrid's face. "That had some very good vodka in it."

Mary-Margaret went to wipe off Astrid. "When exactly did this..."

"String of orgasms?" Regina volunteered.

"I was going to call it literally anything else, but okay. When did that happen?"

"Christmas," Emma said wearily. She started nursing what was left of Regina's drink.

"Christmas or Christmas Eve?"

"Both."

"We started the night before and continued into Christmas morning." Regina's eyes drifted off to the side, seemingly lost in her own lascivious recollections. "All our presents thoroughly unwrapped..."

Emma burped. "You sound like you're writing a letter to Penthouse."

"I did, calling you Emma Essen. Switch it around."

"I think I know what this is," David said.

"Yes, like S&M," Regina confirmed.

"A Christmas miracle," Mary-Margaret said, following her husband's line of thinking.

"What, like the Virgin Mary?" Emma asked. "No. No way am I worshipping her."

"Perhaps if I turned around and bent over?"

"Think!" David insisted. "Did either of you say you wanted to be pregnant?"

Emma crossed her arms and looked away. "I don't recall. My brain is full of facts on science... and books."

Regina set about mixing her another drink with distinct glee. "She did. She said she wanted to put a baby in me."

Emma slapped her hands down on the counter Regina had seemingly taken shelter behind. "You're taking that completely out of context!"

"You said you wanted to impregnate me and now I'm pregnant." Regina slid the drink across the counter to her favorite sheriff. "Drink up, mi amour."

"It's a saying I have," Emma said snidely, as if she were letting Regina in on common knowledge. "Like my catchphrase. 'Hey, Ruby, good game, I'd put a baby in that.'"

David rubbed his chin. "Santa must've heard Emma's ill-advised catchphrase. He used the magic of Christmas to make Regina with child."

"Oh, Santa's real now?" Emma drank.

"Who do you think gave you that boxset of Xena: Warrior Princess?"

"One of my many anonymous admirers?" Emma said through her glass.

Regina studied her fingernails. "I got the doll I never received as a child. I suppose my holiday wish not coming true all those years ago was my start down the path of darkness."

Ruby rolled her eyes. "No one cares why you turned evil, Regina, this isn't about you!

"Quiet, Ruby! Bad dog! No barking!"

Ruby was rolling up her sleeves when Emma restrained her. "Pregnant woman. Just nine months. Then you can hit her and she'll have postpartum depression."

"My hero!" Regina called, seeing Emma between her and harm.

Emma turned back around to face Regina, now thoroughly done with 2012. Good thing too. Not that anyone was listening to them, but the New York crowd had started the countdown. "Alright. So I knocked you up. That doesn't mean we're buddies or anything. What do you think this is, the movie Knocked Up?"

Holding her stomach, Regina circled the counter and went to Emma. "Well, I realize this is sudden, but since you are the father of this baby, I was hoping you'd do the honorable thing and marry me."

If Emma had been told there was a poisonous arachnid in her hair, she could not have held as still as she did. The TV blared "Three, two, one!" and then there was all manner of confetti and balls and off-note singing. "Happy New Year!" Carson Daly said.

"Happy New Year," Regina told Emma, and kissed her. And hugged her. "We are going to be so happy together. Emma? Emma?" Regina looked over at David. "I think she's fainted. Would you like to take her, Grandpa? A woman in my condition shouldn't be under the strain of all this jacket."