A/N: This chapter picks up straight after the last one and covers the rest of Christmas dinner.

It's a bit of filler, but necessary to finish off the last one and set up the next.

Hope you like it anyway.

Thanks again for your support and comments.

Emma and Regina stood in the doorway; their gaze unwavering, with their faces just inches apart. Emma's heart thudded pleasantly, her skin still tingling where the other woman's lips had brushed so near her own. She kissed me - she actually kissed me. Not just a peck on the cheek either, but in the vicinity of my actual mouth. Her smile widened impossibly further as she mentally high-fived herself.

Regina still hadn't let go of the blonde's jumper and was slowly and subconsciously moving closer to the other woman. Her brown eyes, curious and hopeful, momentarily leaving green to stare at soft pink lips. She hadn't realised quite how much she'd wanted to kiss them again until the opportunity to do so arose. And now that the idea of it was in her head, the temptation to kiss Emma was captivating.

Caught up in each other, they didn't pay any attention to the others who were watching on.

"Finally, now we can all get on with our day!" Paul said as he stood up from the sofa, and started a slow clap. "At least, one of you has a some balls." The sound instilled some awareness, but neither women attempted to move. The young man walked over and clasped the blonde on the shoulder, grabbing her attention further. "Ems, I mean this in the nicest possible way- you seriously need to grow a pair, hun."

The blonde nodded silently as she took in what he said. She was a confident and independent woman; what was it about Regina that made her into this awkward, self-conscious fool? Her face morphed into a blank expression, the smile slowly unfurling from her lips, and her brow furrowing. Now that initial exuberance has worn off, a feeling of unease was starting to nestle in her stomach. She couldn't quite place what it was or why she felt it. Perhaps it was just her old fears of commitment or abandonment rearing their ugly heads. Or her dislike of public displays of affection, especially ones in front of her son. Maybe it was something else entirely. Whatever it may be, she tamped it down and tried to ignore it.

"Now, who wants wine? I'm having wine." Paul queried, looking between the two woman with a smirk. They both looked like they could benefit greatly from a few glasses grape juice. He hoped that a drink or five would loosen them up a bit, which could be both amusing and enlightening in equal measures.

Henry tempted his luck, hoping he'd to go unnoticed by his mother. "I will," he said from somewhere out of sight. Paul seemed like the type of guy who wouldn't begrudge an almost teenager a sip or two of alcohol during the holidays.

Unfortunately for him, Emma wasn't that distracted. "No, you won't," she intervened, still coming out of her Regina inspired trance. She titled her head to her left so she could see her son and give him an unimpressed look. Turning back to Paul, she added. "But I will have the biggest glass you can find."

"Sure thing, babes. Alcohol is always the answer." He said as he gave her a reassuring pat on the back. He could almost see the cogs turning in her mind as she stared repeatedly from her son to Regina.

Having only digested half the conversation as she found herself coming back to reality, Regina released Emma's jumper which she hadn't realised she was still holding. "The answer to what?" She asked in a slight befuddlement as she took in the young man next to her.

"Everything," Paul stated dramatically.

"In that case, I will have some too."

xxxxxxx

While Paul busied himself with getting the wine opened and poured. The two women stepped further apart and smiled at one another for a moment, before looking away. Now that their little mistletoe-induced bubble had burst, they didn't quite know what to do with themselves. Fortunately for them, the staring at anything but each other didn't last for too long as Mable returned from the kitchen with a burning question she needed to ask the blonde.

"Emma, dear?"

"Yu-huh?" The younger woman replied, hands in her jean pockets as she rocked on the balls of her feet.

"What happened to Regina's jumper? She says she hasn't received it yet?" Mable queried as she brought a pile of plates in from the kitchen and placed them on the dining table.

Oh shit. I didn't think she'd bring that up.

Emma knew exactly what jumper the elderly woman referred to, which was precisely why she was so determined not to hand it over to the brunette. She was basically performing damage limitation all round. The blonde had no idea how Regina would react to the gift, but given her always immaculate appearance and extensive repertoire of sarcastic remarks, she couldn't imagine it going well. Emma figured she would also save the woman of the embarrassment of having to wear it to dinner; which Mable made quite clear in her gift tag, that she was fully expected to. And if it also meant that she got to see Regina in her current figure-hugging red number rather than misshapen green knitwear- well, that was just an added bonus. There was no downside to Emma's plan in her opinion. Well, that was true until Mable decided to start questioning, at least.

Lie, Swan, Lie! Pretend you have no idea what she's talking about.

"Jumper? Hmm…Regina's jumper? You'll have to be more specific." Emma answered, attempting to avoid the elderly women's scrupulous gaze; the pitch a little too high to sound natural.

"The one I gave you this morning lovely. It looks just like yours." Mable, who remained oblivious to the young woman's attempts to cover up said item's current location, turned to the young boy sitting in the armchair who was looking at his mother with a confused expression. "Henry dear, will you get the cutlery and help me set the table?" He nodded and bounded into the kitchen. Grabbing the knives and forks from the drawer, and returning quickly to the table, he listened intently as the conversation unfolded.

The blonde took advantage of the older woman's momentary distraction to determine an alternate approach. "Umm…Lemme think for a sec." She flopped onto the sofa, and put on her best 'I'm concentrating really hard' expression. Then, let out an overly dramatic sigh as she shook her head; pretending not to recall the exchange. "I'm struggling to place it. Are you sure it was me you gave it to?"

"Yes, dear. I specifically remember you saying that you would take it to her."

Damn it, she's a sharp as a tack for someone who's almost ninety.

"Really, I said that?" Mable nodded as she continued to set the table with Henry's help. Emma considered just giving in, and going to get the jumper. But then she had a flash of inspiration. "It's probably that bump I had on the old noggin," she with a laugh and a playful roll of the eyes. "It must've knocked a few things loose because I can't remember a thing about it."

That should do it, bring up the head injury. If anything will get her to leave me alone, it'll be that. The blonde winced in anticipation of Mable's response but it wasn't her who spoke next.

Regina, who had been watching the exchange in amusement from the doorway, shut the door and decided to interject before the blonde could dig herself any deeper into a hole. "It doesn't matter right now, Mrs Peters." Upon the pointed look she received from the elderly woman, she amended the name, "Sorry - Mable. But I'm grateful for your gift all the same. Just seeing Emma wear her's, is more than enough for me." The brunette smirked at the women on the sofa, who gave her a sarcastic grin in return. As appreciative as Regina was of Emma's obvious attempts at intervening, it didn't mean that she couldn't be quietly amused at the woman's expense. Green knitwear sporting an animal like creature was certainly a look; a look which Emma was struggling to pull off, and Regina had no intention of trying to.

"Don't you worry, dear. Even if I have to knit another one, you will get your jumper." Mable reassured Regina.

The younger woman gulped, and held back the sneer and barbed comment that she was oh so tempted to say. A few months ago she wouldn't have had the same restraint, but she bit her tongue and put on her well-practiced dignified mask. "That's really not necessary," she said through clenched teeth.

Before the exchange could go any further, Henry decided it was about time he added his two cents worth to the conversation. "You know, I'm pretty it was in the living room. I could just…" He chimed in- trying (and spectacularly failing) to be helpful. He quickly stopped when he was met with his Mother's stern eyes and a shake of her head. He knew that look, so he tried to back peddle. "Never mind. I know nothing. Forget I said anything." He mumbled and slowly edged away from the dining table. He didn't know why his Mother was acting this way because he knew for sure that she'd been given the gift. Unfortunately, he didn't always know when to keep his mouth shut.

Deciding she was out of further options thanks to her son's foot in mouth disease, Emma figured she would have to concede to knowing the whereabouts of the item. "Oh that jumper, I remember now," Emma stated as if having a sudden moment of enlightenment. Letting out an unnatural laugh, she hastily tried to think up a reason why she wouldn't have delivered it to the other woman. "I thought…that we would surprise Regina with it tomorrow. Yeah, that's it! I was planning on giving it to her tomorrow instead. How amazing would it be to get an extra gift the day after Christmas, right? I mean, you think it's all over, and you get all depressed, then BAM! You get another present- the fun never stops."

Emma let out another even more stilted laugh and looked at the faces around her to see if any of them bought into her logic. Henry was trying to suppress giggles. Regina just stood with her arms folded and an eyebrow raised; shaking her head slightly with a smirk. Mable regarded her with curiosity. She narrowed her eyes, trying to decipher why the blonde would consider such an idea at all.

The elderly woman decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. "That's a sweet thought, dear. But I'm sure that Regina would prefer it today." Mable didn't see the brunettes wide-eyed expression of abject horror at the idea. She patted Henry on the shoulder and forcefully encouraged him toward the door. "Go on then Henry, you go get it before we have dinner. There's a good boy. Then we'll take some nice photo's of the three of you together. Wouldn't that be lovely?" Mable smiled with a nod. Her decision was final. The younger women gave forced smiles in return as they watched the woman depart the room.

Henry returned less than two minutes later, knitwear in hand. He offered it to Regina, who took it with a reluctant smile. She walked over to the sofa and sat next to Emma. Letting out an exasperated breath, the brunette held out the jumper at arms length. Taking in the lurid green, and dog-bear hybrid, she decided it was best to just get this over and done with. She could wear it briefly, smile for a photograph or two, and burn it later. She would take great pleasure in the act, and the material did look highly flammable. Quickly, Regina shrugged it over her shoulders with a grimace; her skin had never come into contact with such a cheap fabric in her life. The temptation to claw at it was great, but she maintained her poise and focused on keeping her composure.

Observing the brunettes look of disdain, Emma leant in and whispered. "I'm sorry, I tried my best. It's not so bad once you get used to the itchiness."

Regina highly doubted it but attempted to mask her distaste for the item as she smiled at Emma. "I appreciate the effort."

xxxxxxx

A little while and a glass or two of wine later, the table was set and dinner was ready. They all made their way to where their feast was laid out before them. Henry asked Regina to sit next to him, which she happily agreed to, leaving his mother to sit opposite her next to Paul. And of course, Mable was at the head of the table.

"Can we pull the crackers first?" Henry asked eagerly, to which Mable nodded her agreement. The boy turned to the woman next to him and held out the shiny, red and green cardboard cylinder. Regina looked down at it perplexed, then back up at the boy with confusion. She wondered what he wanted her to do as he looked at her expectantly. Her question was quickly answered in the form of the two adults opposite, who were pulling apart several of the objects and then bickering over ownership of the contents.

"Paul, I won it fair and square."

"But it was in my Cracker, Ems."

"Sorry, but I don't make the rules. Everyone knows that the winner gets the prize." The blonde stated emphatically. She put on her yellow paper crown and threw a scrap of paper at the younger man. "Here, you can have the joke instead."

"I don't want the joke; I want the tiny screwdriver set," Paul said with a pout as he slumped his shoulders. "Ple-ease, it will go perfectly with my mini measuring tape and sewing kit."

His plea did little to affect Emma, who remained unwavering in her stance on the matter. Although, she may be tempted to negotiate if the price was right. "Let's pull another one and I may think about trading it."

Five crackers later…

"Okay, so how about my plastic moustache and pack of miniature playing cards for the screwdrivers?" Paul bartered with the woman who had refused his last three attempts at a trade.

"Throw in the spinning top and you've got yourself a deal."

"You drive a hard bargain, Swan."

"Think of all the tiny screws that will go unfastened, is it really worth it over a spinning top?"

"Fine, you make a compelling case." He spat in his hand and held it out to shake. "Deal!"

Emma gave him a look of disgust and stared pointedly down at his extended hand. Paul grinned and wiped it on his jumper before offering it to her again."Pleasure doing business with you, sir." She said with a satisfied smile as she shook on the transaction. She had only wanted the moustache anyway. The other items were just a bonus.

Once the deal had been settled, and they had all adorned their paper crowns, they started to dish out their meal. They passed the vegetables around the table while Paul carved the turkey with difficulty and constant heckling from his Grandmother. She had handed over the responsibility to the young man for the first time this year wIth some hesitance, which had proven to be well founded as he hacked away at the bird. Emma drank an excessive amount of wine and ate surprisingly little - which translates as just one large helping of everything. And Regina forgot all about the horrendous knitwear she modelled, which she somehow managed to pull off with a dignified elegance. She laughed merrily, drank liberally and enjoyed the festive occasion.

"I don't think I can eat another bite," the blonde said as she finished her last mouthful. She placed her cutlery on her now empty plate and patted her full stomach. Regina raised an eyebrow in surprise at the declaration but didn't pass comment. This was the first time to blonde had ever described herself as being full; it was very unlike her to turn down more food. Maybe she was feeling unwell.

Mable who had begun clearing away the empty plates responded, "That's a shame dear, we have apple pie and custard for dessert as well."

That caught Emma's attention. Her head spun around to face the elderly woman - how could she have forgotten about the pie she had contributed towards? "Oh yeah," she drawled with a grin. "Well, I'm sure I'll manage a mouthful or two. There always room for a bit of dessert."

xxxxxx

"This is delicious. I could've eaten the whole thing," Emma stated as she subtly tried to pull the pie dish towards her without detection. She, Paul and Regina sat at the dining table with the remnants of the dessert, three spoons and a bottle of wine. Mable was busy feeding the dogs leftovers, and Henry was switching channels until he discovered the best of the Christmas TV.

Regina suppressed an eye roll, but she appreciated the blonde's enthusiasm for her baking all the same. "Why doesn't that surprise me in the least?" So much for being full.

The blonde ignored to remark; instead, she continued eating and commenting on the dessert. "The pastry is perfect. It's so thin and crumbly. It must have been the expert rolling- that's the only possible explanation."

"It took you four attempts to get it to an acceptable standard- hardly the definition of expert." The other woman retorted sarcastically with a derogatory snort.

Emma shrugged off the remark and said with a smirk. "And who's fault was that?"

"Clearly yours, if my memory serves me correctly, you were the one with the rolling pin."

"And you were the one who was too busy ogling me to pay enough attention." The blonde flippantly declared, pouring more custard on the pie which the others had now given up on trying to eat. She watched on in amusement as the brunette appeared caught off guard by the comment. Regina managed to mask her expression quickly, but Emma knew that she'd flustered the woman.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Regina denied with indignation, attempting to look aghast at the suggestion. She thought she'd been discreet in her admiration of the other woman. Emma had given her no prior indication of knowing otherwise.

Ping! Emma's internal lie detector went off at the denial. "Oh really?" She said with a smirk, as she slowly and deliberately licked off the contents the spoon in her hand and pulled it out of her mouth with a pop.

"Yes, really." The brunette replied less convincingly.

Paul, who had been silently entertained by the little exchange, decided to cut in before the bickering went from playful banter to a punch up. Or a full blown make out sesh; both options were a distinct possibility. "Ladies, I hate to break up the lovers tiff, but I have an important matter to discuss."

"It was no such thing." "We were just talking, seriously Paul." Regina and Emma answered in shock at the same time.

Paul raised an unimpressed eyebrow at the women, cutting them off with a raised hand before they could go any further with their denials. "The Ladies doth protest too much," he stated with a smirk, and a little pride in being able to casually drop a Shakespeare quote into the conversation. He received simultaneous eye rolls from both women. "Look at you two, so in sync with each other already. It's kinda adorable." The young man said with a laugh.

Emma gave an exasperated sigh. Getting back to his reason for interrupting them before he could start suggesting that their monthly cycles had matched up, or something else equally mortifying, she asked. "What did you want to say that was so important, Paul?"

"Okay, so, I've decided we need a night out with no kids or old people. I'm thinking- New Year's Eve party; you's two, me, and some hot guy who I haven't met yet. Whatcha say?"

"That sounds wonderful." Regina's mouth agreed readily to the suggestion before her brain had to chance to intervene. After a few too many glasses of wine, she was a little too open to the idea of spending more time with the other two for her liking. And a little too quick in vocalising it for that matter.

"Uh, are we talking a group hang out situation here? Or…?" Emma queried, urging the man to know what she was asking without having to say it out loud.

"Or…?" Paul said feigning ignorance. He knew very well what his friend was hinting at, but he wouldn't let her get away with it that easily. Especially after he became a victim of her daylight robbery earlier - Paybacks a bitch.

"You know…" The blonde willed him to grasp what she was implying, as she tilted her head unsubtly towards the other woman with wide eyes.

"Use your words, babes."

Emma let out a sigh, held up he hand to her mouth and spoke in a loud whisper; she would have to spell it out for him. "A double d-a-t-e." Which she took quite literally it would seem.

"In case you weren't aware, I can hear and spell, Miss Swan," Regina cut in.

From her understanding of this world, a date could refer to a type of shrivelled fruit, a day on a calendar or a courting ritual in this land. Based on the context of the conversation, she safely presumed the blonde was alluding to the latter.

Emma gave the other woman a sheepish grin and mumbled apologetically. "Yeah, right, of course you can, sorry." Of course she can, fucking idiot.

Paul looked back and forth between both women with a grin and stated. "It can be whatever you want it to be."

Neither Emma or Regina had an answer to that. Well, not one they were willing to admit to out loud, at least.

Additional A/N: Just wanted to address some things a few people have mentioned.

In regards to Regina getting a job- this is something I am considering, but I have a few reasons why I'm inclined not pursue that avenue. Firstly, I think a woman whose only job has been a Queen, wouldn't really consider looking for one immediately. Secondly, I am a realist, and so I just can't bring myself to ignore that fact hat she has zero paperwork, qualifications or references. Who would employ her? And thirdly, for the purposes of the story in the long term, this period of time needs to focus on building the relationships between the characters. Getting bogged down in an immigration battle with the authorities would be a distraction from that.

The reason I gave Regina gold in the first place was to alleviate the need to have to write a needlessly complicated, or ridiculously unrealistic way of her finding a job.

The amount of gold she has wouldn't be a neverending supply, but if you could just suspend your disbelief for a little while and presume that she will have enough to cover her for the foreseeable future that would be great :) For similar reasons to above, I didn't want to have to write a Regina on a budget. Where would he fun be in that?

I hope this clarifies some things for people who were wondering about these things.

If you weren't, then please feel free to ignore this.

Next time- NYE