Domestic fluff anyone?

Emma yawned loudly as she took another sip from her coffee, smacking her lips in the quiet of the kitchen as she turned on a burner. She placed the frying pan she'd been holding on it, waiting until it grew hot before pouring pancake batter inside. She rubbed her eyes as she waited, yawning again. This was the third morning in a row she'd woken up early to come to Regina's to make a hearty breakfast, and the lack of sleep was starting to catch up with her. But, she wanted her family to eat, and it was worth it knowing that both her son and her… her, well, she wasn't sure what Regina was right now (I don't know, Emma. After everything that's happened, I don't know. I need to take things slowly). The woman she loved. That was a good way to think of Regina. Emma loved her. They may not currently have a label, but they were "together" (complicated, Regina had said) and Emma loved her. And she was going to make sure that the woman she loved ate a good breakfast, especially after she had confessed three days ago after their talk that she was too tired to make anything in the morning, and too busy vomiting, so she hadn't been eating. Emma hadn't liked that. So she had asked if she could come over before they woke up and make something for them.

"You? You're going to wake up early and you're going to come here and you're going to make us breakfast?"

"Yeah. I mean, you need to eat. I want you to eat. And I am capable of waking up early, I just choose not to. But, I'll choose to get up early now, for you. And for the baby and Henry. You need to learn to trust me and to like… let me in again. So, let me do this for you. Let me start proving to you that I'm serious and that I want to be here for you."

And Regina had agreed, although she'd been skeptical of Emma's cooking. Emma had been practising though, secretly, before coming to the mansion in the morning. The night before she cooked, she'd practise the meal at home and test it out, see if it was any good and iron out any kinks. Then, the next morning, she'd make her way to Regina's a re-make the recipe, only better. She'd surprised Regina that first morning with how good her eggs benedict had turned out, Emma knew, but it was a good surprise and it had been nice to sit together as a family. She and Regina had exchanged soft smiles and teasing words every morning since, and it was so nice, so right to start her mornings with her lover and her son. She and Regina may be complicated right now, but that was okay. They'd move past this, Emma was sure, and she looked forward to it.

So it was working out, their arrangement, and Emma was happy. She was happy to be with her family in the mornings, to share the first meal of the day together (even though Regina could only stomach a few small bites, packing up the rest for later), starting off the day together. She was also happy to be here, close to Regina, for whatever the brunette might need. Like, Emma had quickly discovered, someone to hold back her hair as she vomited.

Speaking of which, Emma looked up at the ceiling, hearing the familiar sound of Regina stumbling out of bed and rushing towards the en-suite. Emma quickly turned off the element, yanking the frying pan away and onto a cold burner as she raced up the steps. The first morning, Regina had tried to push her away, had tried to kick her out of the bathroom, but Emma had refused to leave. She refused to let Regina throw up alone, not when she was one floor below and knew that Regina was suffering. She couldn't leave, so she had gently lowered Regina's outstretched hand and took it in her own, her other hand coming up and sweeping away the brunette's locks. She had stayed there, unmoving, until Regina had finally calmed down. That first morning had really driven something home for Emma: her dad had been right. Regina was the one who was paying the real price of this pregnancy. Emma was not suffering; she was not waking up every morning and vomiting until she hurt. Regina was.

Regina was hit every single morning by a powerful wave of nausea, forced to run to the bathroom to puke up anything she had in her system. She looked so pitiful, so frail doing so, and Emma felt incredibly guilty knowing that Regina had been on her own when Emma had distanced herself. Never again would Regina do these things by herself, Emma had vowed, and so for the following two mornings (and every one in the future, Emma told herself), she'd been listening carefully. And when she heard Regina tumble out of bed and run, Emma raced upstairs.

This morning was no different. Emma rushed through Regina's bedroom, pushing open the bathroom door and dropping to her knees just in time for her to pull long, brown locks out of the way as Regina vomited again. She slowly rubbed Regina's back, holding her hair away from her face as she swallowed down a wave of guilt. She felt guilty that Regina was being punished like this, puking, when she knew how much Regina hated it.

Regina pulled back, tears burning in her eyes as she fought to catch her breath. She slumped against the toilet, throat on fire as she heaved in deep gulps of air. She hated vomiting. Hated it, and she had been up most of the night expelling her dinner. It seemed the baby no longer liked chicken. Which made Regina want to cry. She loved chicken, and she hated that she would probably not be able to eat it anymore.

Another wave of nausea hit her as she thought about her dinner last night, and Regina whimpered as she once again vomited into the toilet. Her throat stung terribly, her stomach muscles ached badly, and she just wanted to sob. She couldn't catch her breath, and tears slid down her cheeks as she gave in, too exhausted to fight anymore.

"Oh, baby, don't cry," Emma said softly, pulling Regina into her arms. "I'm so sorry."

The gentle words, as well as the embrace, made Regina cry harder. She clung to Emma, weeping in her arms. A warm, firm hand stroked up and down her back, and Regina closed her eyes as she allowed herself to enjoy the much needed comfort. She had wanted Emma last night, had come so close to calling her, but she hadn't. She had forced herself to get through it alone, partly due to being embarrassed (she didn't like having others around while she vomited- she felt too exposed), and partly because she hadn't wanted to feel weak. Regina wasn't weak; she was strong. And she had gotten through it alone, just as she knew she could. But, she had really, really wanted Emma there. And now that she was here, Regina didn't want to let her go.

"I can't s-stop vomiting," Regina said through tears. "And I can't eat chicken anymore."

Regina bit back a dry heave, forcing down the bile that wanted to escape. She couldn't. She had nothing left to give, and she hurt so much. She couldn't vomit again.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," Emma soothed, kissing her temple. "We won't be eating that anymore then, okay? What about turkey? You like turkey. And they have turkey bacon too, which you really like."

Regina sniffled, tears falling down her cheeks. She did like turkey, and her stomach didn't seem to revolt at the idea.

"Turkey is pretty close to chicken. They say it's even better for you, and I believe it because turkey is dry as all hell and needs a shit ton of gravy to taste good."

Regina smiled in Emma's neck, despite the tears streaming down her cheeks, appreciating the woman's attempt to cheer her up.

"I've told you repeatedly not to eat the turkey your mother serves you."

"Can't help it. She force feeds me," Emma responded, kissing Regina's cheek as she continued to stroke her back. "You okay?"

Regina closed her eyes, sighing as she nestled in closer, tears lessening now that she'd had her break down. She nodded, arms coming to wrap around Emma's lower back.

"I'm just tired. Our child kept me awake most of the night expelling last night's dinner."

"I'm sorry, baby. Why didn't you call me? I could have been here with you," Emma said, frowning at the thought that Regina had been puking all night alone.

"I considered it," Regina admitted.

"Call me next time, okay? I don't want you to be here alone to suffer like that. It's not fair that you're here suffering and I'm not here with you. It's my fault this is happening to you anyway, so you should make me feel some pain too."

Regina smirked.

"It is, isn't it?"

"Yeah. And when you're feeling good, I get to be smug and strut around that the sexiest woman on this planet is carrying my kid. But when you're feeling like shit, I feel guilty and I want to do what I can to make it better. Okay? So call me and I'll be right here. Don't suffer alone."

Regina nodded. It was what she wanted anyway. She wanted Emma around, even if she didn't entirely trust her to actually come.

"Okay."

"Good." Emma kissed her temple again. "When you're feeling better, I made pancakes."

"I'm sorry. I don't think I can stomach pancakes. Or swallow any. My throat is on fire."

Emma frowned, shifting them on the floor so she could stretch up and grab the glass on the sink counter, filling it with water before handing it to Regina.

"Sorry. I wasn't thinking. Here."

Regina took the glass and sipped it slowly, sighing in content when as the cool liquid soothed her throat.

"Thank you."

Emma took back the glass and placed it on the floor next to them.

"Welcome. What about a smoothie? That'd be nice and cold against your throat and it'd been good for you. Lots of delicious vitamins for you and the worm."

"Our child is not a worm."

"I looked at the pictures in the book. It looks like a worm."

Regina shook her head.

"Your fault undoubtedly."

Emma nodded.

"Yeah. Once it's finished baking though, our kid's gonna come out looking like you though: incredibly beautiful."

Regina warmed at the words, despite the fact that she felt far from beautiful right now, pyjamas rumpled, hair dishevelled and completely out of place, breath reeking of vomit, eyes red and swollen, throat on fire. No. She was far from beautiful, but she believed Emma thought she was anyway.

"Thank you."

Emma squeezed her tight.

"You okay to get up? Do you think you should stay home from work today?"

"No. I'll be fine. I simply needed a moment. Thank you," Regina said sincerely, pulling away to look at Emma, "for comforting me this morning. I needed it."

Emma's eyes softened, hand coming up to cup Regina's cheek.

"Any time, baby. I want to be here for you, any time of the day. Or night."

She made to lean forward to kiss her, but Regina instantly pulled away.

"No. You truly do not want to do that," she warned, hand coming up to cover her mouth.

Emma chuckled.

"Sorry. I got sucked into your gorgeous eyes and forgot you were just barfing your brains out."

Regina rolled her eyes and got up.

"Eloquent as usual, Miss Swan."

Emma laughed.

"That's why you love me."

Emma led the way downstairs, holding Regina's hand the entire time. She led the brunette to the island, guiding her into one of the chairs and leaning into her space when she sat. She kissed her temple, her cheek, smiling softly at her before finally pulling away and heading to the fridge.

"So what kind of smoothie am I making? Mixed berries? Strawberry banana? Some nasty vegetable one you're gonna try to convince me actually tastes good? When it totally doesn't, by the way."

Regina rolled her eyes, smirk tugging at her lips.

"Grab the peaches and the berries from the fruit crisper, Miss Drama Queen. The bananas are on the counter. Oh, and the plain yogurt on the middle shelf, please."

"Yes, your majesty."

Regina smirked, watching Emma as she moved around the kitchen, stomach warming every time the blonde sent her a dopey smile. She felt like a teenager with how her body reacted every time Emma looked at her like that, but it was hard not to when she just looked so genuinely happy to see her. It was nice to know that Emma was happy to be around her, and it caused fuzzy feelings (Regina would not admit to them, ever) to see her fluttering about the kitchen as she prepared breakfast. It was so domestic, and it caused Regina's heart to ache with want. She wanted this, wanted it to be a permanent thing, but she knew they still had a way's to go before Emma became a permanent part of the Mifflin street mansion. However, Emma's dedication these last few days, her enthusiasm despite her obvious fatigue, well, it gave Regina hope.

"Moms, why are you awake so early in the morning?" Henry complained, rubbing his eyes furiously. "It is too early to be up right now."

Regina chuckled, opening her arms and beckoning her son over. When he grumbled and muttered, feigning unhappiness at being 'forced' to hug his mother, Emma leaned over and smacked his backside with a spatula.

"Ma!" Henry protested loudly, turning away from her and burying his face in his mom's embrace. "You're my favourite mom. I don't like the other one anymore. I want a new ma."

Regina laughed, squeezing him tight and planting a kiss on his forehead before tugging him into the seat next to her.

"We'll go shopping for another tomorrow."

Emma scoffed as she reached into the oven and pulled out a stack of pancakes she'd made earlier.

"Fine. Go to the ma store and see if you'll find one who gets up at the ass crack of dawn to make you chocolate chip pancakes," Emma sassed, eyebrow raised. She placed the plate in front of her son, nodding when his eyes lit up. "That's what I thought."

"Oh you are so forgiven," he said happily, pouring an unhealthy amount of syrup on the stack and immediately digging in.

Emma returned to the counter, resuming the chopping of fruit for Regina's smoothie, adding the yogurt, and then turning on the blender. She focused on her task, feeling wonderfully light despite her fatigue, happy to be here with her family. She glanced back when she heard Regina's laugh, smiling automatically at the sound, even though she couldn't hear the conversation over the sound of the blender. It didn't matter though. Just hearing Regina laugh made her happy.

Emma turned off the blender when its contents were liquefied, pouring the mixture into a glass, adding a straw, and walking it over to Regina. She slid it before her on the island, leaning in close and kissing Regina's cheek. She nuzzled her neck and smiled when Regina slipped her arm around her waist, thanking her for the smoothie.

"Anytime, baby. How's your throat feeling?"

"Sore."

"What's wrong with your throat?" Henry piped up, looking at his mom with concern.

"Whoa, he breathes," Emma teased. "I didn't think you were capable with the way you were inhaling those pancakes."

"Nothing. I simply woke up with a bit of a sore throat this morning."

"You sure? Are you getting a cold?"

"I don't believe so. Don't worry, my little prince. Finish your breakfast before your mother decides she'd like to eat your pancakes."

Henry sent a mock threatening glare towards his ma.

"She'd have to fight me first," he pretended to growl, bringing his plate closer to his chest.

Emma laughed loudly.

"Like that would even be a competition with your puny little muscles," Emma scoffed, poking at the boy's arm.

"Ma!" Henry groaned, pulling away as he shoveled another forkful of pancakes in his mouth.

Regina chuckled and took a sip of her breakfast, sighing happily when it soothed her throat on its way down.

"Okay?" Emma asked, looking at her with interest.

"Yes, darling. It's perfect."

Emma's stomach fluttered, pleased at Regina's use of the pet name, not to mention the brilliant smile she sent her way.

"Good," Emma said. She nodded with satisfaction before going back and starting on her own breakfast now that her family was fed.

A/N: For those of you who missed the memo, I created a poll for you guys to decide what you'd like Regina and Emma's baby to be :) You can find it under my profile