Are you still with me? Pneumonia, a crashed computer that deleted this chapter and Illusions (still working on restoring that), mommy responsibilities, and one of the worst weeks I have had at work when I saw the system fail a child have meant little time for writing. However, here is a new chapter. I fast forwarded past Emma's out of town stuff and toward her birthday. So enjoy! Happy holidays everyone!

Sitting cross legged on curb outside Archie Hopper's office, Emma tried to respond to one of Regina's emails on her phone. While it was only mid October, the temperatures spoke more of December and there was a bit to the air that screamed for her to wear gloves over her long fingers. Using only one had made it a slow process, rife with misspellings and typos. But it helped to keep one hand warm by pulling the sleeve of her cream colored sweater down over her palm.

"All you need is a brown paper bag," Ruby said sweetly, hip jutted out and a coy smile on her red lips. "I thought things were going better. Didn't you say that Regina was impressed with some of your finds."

Rolling her eyes dramatically, Emma looked up from her phone and sighed. "Impressed is a bit too much for Regina. She found them adequate."

"That still doesn't explain why you are out here begging for money. Wait. Let me finish my coffee and you can have the cup to collect change and other donations. I'll see if we can get you some cardboard for a sign."

"Ruby," Emma said warningly, not wanting to think about her days on the run after leaving foster care one time.

"Seriously, Em, why are you here? Shouldn't you be curled up with Killian talking about place settings and color schemes? Or at least planning the honeymoon. I'm not even going to bring up that I'm offended you haven't been by to ask about a dress yet. I mean it's not like you aren't besties with a talented designer or anything."

"Ruby, I just got back into town two days ago. I've been working 12-14 hours both of those days. Can I have a moment to breathe before you start draping fabric on me and trying to get me to commit to a dress." She pressed send and threw the phone into her oversized bag before Regina would have a chance to reply. "I'm here for Henry."

Eyes following her blonde friend as she rose, Ruby noted the name of the town's only known therapist on the glass door behind her. "Ah," she said knowingly. "I guess the nightmares aren't any better?"

She shrugged as if she wasn't sure how to described the situation. "Wait? You know about those? Henry said he only told me, Killian, and Neal."

Ruby sheepishly held out her hand to help wipe a bit of debris off the bottom of Emma's coat. "He and Killian came to the diner for dinner the other night. He was asking Killian to let him have a coffee so that he could say awake and not have nightmares. P.S. Killian handled it quite well." She looked at the older two story building on Main Street, staring up at the curtained office of Dr. Hopper who still spent half his time working with the students of Storybrooke Academy and the other half working with patients.

"I hated being out of town for this and leaving it to Killian and to Neal."

Ruby's dislike of Neal was evident on her face as she scrunched her nose. "Well, you're back now and best I can tell, Henry's fine. You guys will make the right choices for him."

"Hashtag vote of confidence," Emma teased, knowing that it would drive her friend batty. A couple of years before Ruby had dated a guy who ended every sentence on their date with a hashtag comment. The friends had wondered if he would do the same in bed. Ruby swore not to find out.

"You're not going to let that go, are you?" Ruby sneered. "But for the record I would definitely stake my money on your parenting and Killian's over Neal's. Speaking of, where is that jerk?"

Emma shifted her weight from one booted foot to the other, knowing exactly what jerk Ruby meant. She'd asked herself the same thing, as Neal had not formally protested the therapy for Henry but not endorsed it either. He had not made time for appointments either, even stating to Henry that he would take him to a movie rather than drop him off at the first session. She had not yet confronted him on it, but she was prepared to do just that.

"Don't tell me. He thinks it shows weakness…"

"I don't really know his excuse," Emma admitted, not wanting to get Ruby too worked up. If she listened to Ruby badmouthing Neal, she'd not be in any condition to speak to him like an adult. "But Henry's doing this whole therapy thing and seems a little better. He's slept through the night with no issues the last two since I've been home."

Taking the clue, Ruby offered her friend a hug. "It's good to have you back. I hope you never have one of these long trips again. You left me with Mary Margaret. She wants me to design baby clothes. Do I look like a baby clothes designer?" Taking a step back, the multi-tasking brunette spun in place. Her own black leather jacket tapered in around her waist and made her look even smaller. She was not wearing one of her signature short skirts, but her high heels and leather leggings showed off the impressive length of her shapely legs. Peeking out from the opening f the jacket was an almost demure for her red sweater that sported a lace overlay that was one of her signature designs these days. Her cascade of dark curls was held back with a headband that was reminiscent of a school girl but also covered in the signature black lace.

"Yeah, I'm thinking the look might be a bit much for an infant," Emma said as gracefully as she could without picturing a baby in leather leggings too hard. "Maybe we should get together soon about wedding dresses. I wouldn't want you to think I was trying to find another designer."

"I have ideas!"

"You know," Emma said, lowering her voice in a way that someone might use to reveal a secret, "for a woman who is so anti-marriage, you seem to have no problem with wedding dress design."

She shrugged in response. "Yeah, well it combines two of my favorite things…fashion and wowing everyone with stunning beauty. I try to forget the whole committing to one person for the rest of your life thing."

"I thought you were getting better about that idea. Weren't you and Graham talking about a future together?" Emma and Ruby had had a few conversations over Facetime during her absence where she admitted to taking things up a notch with the sheriff. "I mean things looked…"

"Taking things to another level doesn't always mean marriage and children. I was thinking more along the lines of a set date night or cutting back on others. I wasn't thinking white dresses and cake."

"There's more to…"

Placing her free hand to her temple as though willing away a headache, Ruby sighed. "You are a wonderful example of a woman overcoming commitment fears and finding happiness, but seriously…I'm not you. I won't ever be you."

***AAA***

Elsa pushed the box of photographs, ticket stubs, and other memories under the bed with her toe. The photo she was searching for was not there, which left only a few possibilities as to its whereabouts. While she had not purposely left little evidence of her parents strewn about her condo, she was not one who dwelled on the past with smiling photographs that seemed to fade with the sun as fast as memories of details of those times.

"Any luck?" Liam asked from the vanity in the bathroom where he was shaving. "I would have thought it would be there." He was aware of the box where she kept most items of importance to her, though he had not been invited to inspect all its contents. That was something that couples did, but he knew her well enough to realize she thrived on more privacy than most.

"No, maybe it's in one of the photo albums that Ingrid brought," she said with a sigh. It wasn't that she was feeling particularly nostalgic. However, a hormone addled Anna had been thinking more and more about their parents lately. She had asked Elsa on more than a few occasions to share memories from before the younger sister was born. From the best she could remember, Elsa recalled a photograph that had been snapped when her sister was brought home from the hospital. It was fuzzy in her head, but she knew that her parents had posed with the baby and young Elsa with smiles a mile wide. "Thanks for helping me look this morning."

Liam smiled at her through the reflection in the mirror, knowing that she was stressing herself over something that might not even exist. "My pleasure," he told her. "I'm rather curious about seeing you as a young lass myself."

"I was kind of awkward," she said absently, readjusting the dust ruffle on the bed. "Horse like with all arms, legs, and teeth. And if memory serves from that picture, my hair was a stringy, tangled mess because mother and father were at the hospital and I was left with…well, I don't remember."

"When Killian was born I was in the negotiating stage of grief. I wanted to make a deal that I'd be a better son if they sent him back. Papa convinced me to give him a try."

Elsa knew that Liam quite rarely spoke of his parents, especially his father. She had seen only one photo of him and Killian with their mother, a curly haired spite of woman with blue eyes and the sweetest smiles as she was flanked by the two sons. The childhood memories he shared were usually about Killian only or about time in school. "Aren't you glad you did?" she queried, breaking him out of what was appearing as a sad memory given his expression.

"Remains to be seen."

Coming up behind him, she stood on her toes to prop her chin on his shoulder, arms wrapping around his waist. "Killian is a wonderful brother to you."

"Aye, I'm a lucky bloke. He even managed to impress the woman I love apparently."

"Well, the real test is impressing the audience. Emma is supposed to listen to the tracks we recorded this week. If all goes well, it could be released next month." She and Killian had recorded separately and then tried one session together that she wasn't sure was all that successful. However, the techs had each complimented them and the band seemed to love it.

"Should I be jealous?" he teased, knowing full well that Regina had hopes the single would out sell everything his band had done so far. "I'm pleased that you and Emma could convince him. He's far too talented to let opportunities pass him by."

"So are you," she said, their eyes meeting in the mirror. "You amaze me every day."

***AAA***

Killian dropped his messenger bag onto the chair in the dining nook, marveling at the quietness of the seaside house. It had only been months since Emma and Henry had moved in with him, their lives much busier and noisier than he had first imagined. Not that he was complaining. He loved the early morning rush as Emma gulped coffee or hot chocolate, barking orders to Henry who showed no signs of needing to hurry or any sense of deadlines. She was at her highest level of multitasking, reviewing vocabulary with her son, answering emails on her phone, and carving together breakfasts despite his offers to do that task. She always looked adorable in bare or sock covered feet and her work pants paired with the shirt she slept in with her hair damp from the shower. No matter how many irons she had in the fire, she always stopped to kiss him good morning, ignoring the fact that not half an hour before she had groaned at the thought of extricating herself from his warm embrace.

He had learned to even appreciate the sometimes odd sounds of Henry's video games or his trumpet practice before school that could have woken the dead. While one of his best students, Henry's almost shy and not completely confident way of asking if Killian would like to watch some movie he had found on Netflix or if they could do something that evening. Despite the still not quite settled trepidation in the now teenager's voice, Killian always jumped at those opportunities.

The seaside cottage now seemed more homelike with pictures of the three of them spread out in frames on the walls and most table and shelf surfaces. There were Henry's sneakers next to the door to his room where his mother had left them in reminder that he was to be tidier. Yet her sweatshirt she had been wearing before bed the night before was draped over the arm of the sofa. He wasn't sure if he or she had left it there in their hurry to get to their room.

The refrigerator was always bursting with all of their favorites, as they had finally settled on the fact they all had different tastes. Even the television was an eclectic mix of shows and movies on the dvr, as they mismatched in several ways. But Emma liked to say that they seemed to match in the ways that mattered. One of those ways was that they all loved his version of his mother's favorite stew. He gave the slow cooker a glance, breathing in the scent of lamb, beef, and vegetables simmering in a seasoned stock. He ran a knife through another onion and added it, smiling at his creation. With the bitterness of the dropping temperatures, he was already looking forward to a Friday evening with warm bellies and perhaps a fire in the fireplace.

He was just sinking into the overstuffed cushion of his favorite chair when the sound of her car arriving made him smile. As much as the previous version of himself had cherished his loner status, he had found himself loving not only the company but thriving on it. He enjoyed sharing the newspaper with Emma, learning about Pokémon from Henry, listening to both talk about their days, and feeling her nuzzle against him as the three of them watched some movie that one of them just had to see.

Henry was the first through the door, his head down and concentration focused on the handheld video game in his right hand. He broke no train of thought as his left arm shimmied out of his jacket that was probably too thin for the rapidly changing weather. Killian didn't see Emma immediately, but she called out in a rebuking tone after Henry. Abandoning his attempts to get out of the jacket, he kept his head down and used his bottom to hold the door open for her and the packages she carried.

Killian jumped to his feet to greet her, relieving her of the bag of work she had brought home and two canvas shopping bags of grocery items. "The heat in your little car is dreadful, love. You are freezing." His nose brushed against hers, stealing a chaste and sweet kiss before heading off to put her bounty away. "I was going to build a fire later, but let's get to that now."

She rubbed her hands together after shutting the door and smiled. "I didn't think it was possible, but that might just make me love you more."

"As you wish."

Emma headed toward the kitchen to finish putting up the few dry items she had bought after Henry's appointment. Nearing the counter, she slid, her boots practically flying out from under her. "Henry!" she scolded her son who was at that point sitting as a heap on the sofa. "Put away your jacket."

The normally amiable boy let out a very put upon sigh that echoed, stomping over to do as she bid. Throwing her a frowning face of angst and maybe a little hostility, he seemed to be saying that he hoped she was done with the requests.

Killian readjusted the kindling just so, arching an eyebrow in surprise at Henry's attitude. Emma matched her son's sigh, stepping up on tip toes to place a box of salt among the shelf items. "It seems that Henry forgot to tell us that we have a date tomorrow night. I ran into Violet and her father who were thanking me for us agreeing to take Henry and Violet to dinner and a movie. Seems that he arranged everything but the chaperones."

"We don't need chaperones," Henry muttered, the game already back in his hand. "I can do this without you."

"And you were going to pick her up on your bike?" Emma asked sarcastically. "Or were you planning to ask to borrow a car? I'm thinking my car might be easier than the jeep. Oh but wait! You're just 13, kid."

Folding his arms over his chest, Henry seemed ready for a stand off with her. "I meant the movie part and dinner. It's embarrassing to have you watch and judge. And for the record, I was just whispering something to her. I wasn't trying to…"

"It's not about embarrassing you. If I'm your chaperone, I need to make sure you both are behaving appropriately. Her father is depending on me to make sure of that." She frowned even deeper, rubbing her hands again. "And besides, you don't go around making promises of my time or Killian's time without consulting us. We have plans already with Liam and Elsa."

Henry turned to Killian for a bit of support, finding the usually supportive teacher to be silent to the argument. "Fine, I'll cancel."

"Perhaps we could speak to Elsa and Liam," Killian interjected, appearing thoughtful as he reached for the lighter to start the fire. "I am sure that we could work something out and all go together?" He knew that Emma would cave to her son's plans, as she was not the type to want to disappoint him. However, she was trying to prove a point that he had to be more cognizant of other's time.

"I suppose could ask." She let the furrow of her brow melt a bit as she looked at her now hopeful son. "I'm not sure they will say yes though. So you should prepare yourself for that."

Hiding a smile, Killian called Henry over to help him make sure the fire was going to be roaring and then placing the screen back. "Don't worry," he whispered to the slightly nervous glancing boy. "I think Liam has not seen that particular movie yet. He's wanted to though."

"I didn't mean to not ask. I was nervous about asking her and it just sort of happened. You're not mad, right?"

"No, but I think your mother is a bit frustrated. You're growing into a man, which is scary for any mum. Just let her know what's going on sometimes."

"I will," he said, standing up. "You made dinner?"

"Aye, a bit of stew to ward off the cold. Why don't you got get changed out of your uniform and it should be ready soon. I'll talk to Emma for you and get her settled."

"Thanks, Killian."

He waited until Emma was done on the phone with who he presumed to be Elsa. Using the extra time, he gathered a couple of the throws and fished out three bowls before checking the state of the stew. It still needed a few minutes, but he went ahead and began to preheat the oven for the bread. He was covering the baking sheet with foil when he felt Emma beside him, snuggling up to his left side. "They are willing," she told him, dropping her head against his shoulder. "So it's a triple date."

"You were a bit angry with the lad?"

"I didn't mean to be. It's just that he doesn't want his father to do this so it falls to me. And I feel like he was taking advantage. He even threw out that I hadn't been around much lately. The guilt kind of got me." She grinned as he lifted his finger that had a bit of the honey butter he had been spreading to melt on the bread. She licked it off.

"Aye, I suppose that is normal for teenagers though, love. They use whatever tools they can to get their way." With nothing to do but wait on the oven to heat, he turned wrap his arms around her. "And I suppose he'll try it next over you having to be in the same theater?"

"Probably."

"Shall we beat him to the punch. I am certain there is another movie playing at the same time. We four adults could go to it and allow the two a bit of privacy. You could check in from time to time I'm sure."

"We're talking about my son in a dark theater with a girl." She had her face buried in this collar so he could not judge her seriousness. "I can think of plenty…"

"Emma, he's a good lad with a stellar reputation, save a few quirks and cleaning habits." It's meant to be a jab, a joke really. But Emma felt her resolve break at the way that Killian said that, as it signifies a trust and belief that she never had as a child. Foster families never believed in her that way, never saw the best in her or thought that she was not only innocent but well intentioned. So maybe that was why she had a hard time seeing that in herself.

Killian wasn't sure he understood when she lifted her head, tears shining in her eyes. However, he immediately went into his mode to protect her. Even the dinging that the oven was the right temperature didn't stop him as he dropped his forehead to hers and his hand rested along her jaw and fingers delved into her hair. "I only meant…"

"I know," she responded before he could fumble with a reason. She wasn't sure if she could explain what it meant that someone besides her saw her son as good at heart. Maybe he would understand, though she wasn't sure how people had viewed him at that age. She and Killian both had abandonment issues. But unlike her, he had two parents for a while and then at least one. He was older when he was alone. Even then he had Liam. "We'll try. I'll try."

"You know we could always send Liam to look after Henry. He may be a sod when it comes to many things, but he's a bloody good watchdog. He'd not let them hold hands, let alone snog without permission."

"Back up plan," she said softly. "But I will need popcorn, extra butter, and some distraction."

***AAA***

Elsa admitted that she was more of a watch a movie at home kind of a woman. Still there was something fun in an old fashioned sort of way about standing in line with Liam, Emma, and Killian about 15 people behind Henry and Violet at the local movie theater. While Emma was trying not to stare at her son, the two brothers had decided it was the other's fault that nobody had considered buying tickets online. If they lived in a bigger town with more than one movie theater, the prospect of a show selling out would not have been a problem. However, the slower the line inched the more real that possibility seemed.

"We're not going to sit through 120 minutes of subtitles," Liam groused, eyeing the digital marquee that had only eight movies on display. "I'm not paying that much to read."

"You wouldn't be able to keep up," Killian teased, his affectionate squeeze of Emma meant to ward off the cold. "They don't leave much time for sounding out the big words."

The words that Liam used at that point weren't really appropriate for the ears of the younger patrons around him. So he tempered his rant with the suggestion that Killian and Emma see the new animated flick instead. However, his sarcasm was met with Elsa's adorable and somewhat embarrassed admission that she would prefer to see that to the sci fi movie they had chosen.

"I don't think the movie actually matters," Emma said, narrowing her eyes at her son. His back was to her, making it nearly impossible to read body language from that distance. "I just want to be on the same side of the theater as Henry so I can…"

"Emma, I assure you that I have been on enough covert missions in the Royal Navy that I can keep a watchful eye on the lad. You just need to tell me to what degree do you want this kept. I would assume physical contact should be at a minimum. But are we talking no hand holding? Or should I see the manager about them having separated seats with two or three people between them?" Liam's expression was masked with his best show of strategic military know how. "Perhaps I could stage…"

"I think Emma plans to be the one to keep an eye out," Elsa said gently. "But if we need any tactical maneuvers we'll let you know."

That made Emma smile at the thought of Liam rolling into the darkened theater with a tank. "I'm trying to trust my son here, guys."

The line inched forward, the crowd both grateful and anxious as reality and waiting seemed to mingle in the cold. "Did I mention that I will purchase you nachos?" Killian asked good naturedly, hoping that his attempts to distract her were not too soon. "Jalapeños included."

"Oh great, another line." Liam pretended to pout as Elsa reminded him that his favorite chocolate candies might also be available.

"Mr. Jones?" a voice from behind them broke through. The foursome turned to find a coltish boy about Henry's age looking quite shocked to see his favorite teacher outside of the classroom. It was clearly one of those moments when one of his students seemed to realize that teachers did exist outside of school.

"Matthew," Killian greeted, smiling brightly, welcoming the boy and his parents with a handshake and quick introduction of the three others. "It's a surprise to see you."

After a quick check of whether his teacher was going to same movie as him, Matthew, his friends, and his parents disappeared into the line to wait. However, the exchange was not lost on Liam who muttered about not being able to take his brother anywhere.

"I don't know," Emma said, noting that Elsa's appearance had been somewhat downplayed as part of her disguise for going out and not being recognized. "I kind of like dating a celebrity."

Liam chuckled as his brother blushed under the attention, pulling Elsa closer to him. "I think, Emma, that is something we can both agree on."

***AAA***

Regina straightened the eggplant colored blouse she was wearing as she listened to the rough recording on Emma's phone, her expression giving nothing away. After five weeks on the road Emma had signed two bands and found six more for development deals. Her presence in the club had created some buzz that had groups sending their videos and mp3 recordings to her at all hours.

"And so you saw them perform?" Regina asked over the lackluster applause at the end of recording. "Do they have presence?"

That was a normal question from her boss, who truly must have believed that appearance of the act was more important than any other factor including talent. Skills could be taught, she had said of a trio of talentless but good looking young men who wanted to sing. Emma begged to differ, but it wasn't her name on the website as the president and CEO. "Honestly? No, I haven't. But they are pretty persistent. I think they have a good sound."

Regina pushed the phone back across the glass desk and folded her fingers together under her chin. "Do a little recon and see if you can find some video of them – pictures at least. I want to know what we're dealing with here before I fly them in for a demo." She looked at the hastily typed agenda that Emma had provided of new talent, her painted lips turning up when she realized the list was complete. "So let's move on. Elsa's ready for her shows? How many did you book?"

"The guys have her performing upstate New York for two shows next week. After that she's got a 15 city tour as the second opener for that new pop group – the one they are comparing to…"

"Fine," Regina interrupted with a dismissive roll of her eyes. "I just want her out there more. I know that her sister is not feeling much like traveling, but it's a waste of time and money not to get that music out there. I haven't heard anything on the recordings with her and that teacher yet. Are they that horrible?"

"No, it's just that they recorded separately and the crew is editing it together now. I'll have something for you soon." Emma rolled her boots back onto her heels, feeling a bit like she was in a thick blanket of snow with the thick white rug that was under the chairs and Regina's desk. It was perfect with the black and white motif of the office and its modern vibe. When alone, Regina was the only pop of color in the room.

"Next Tuesday. I want it then. And that just leaves Robin. He's expressed some concern over the fact that you haven't been paying much attention to the group lately." She never called the band by name or acknowledged that Liam was the actual lead and responsible for negotiations. While Robin was always friendly with Emma, even trusting her and Killian quite a bit with little Roland, he was careful not to divulge much about his relationship with Regina. It had become a thing that when Emma and Killian had dropped off Roland or stopped in at Robin's with some sort of something or agenda that she had noticed Regina's unsung presence. There was the night that her shoes were under the coffee table, the scent of perfume still in the air. John, Robin's neighbor, said that Regina's car was there quite a bit these days too.

"Well, with Liam taking on that role with Zelena and Jefferson having some responsibilities at the school with his daughter, it's been a bit tough to…"

"I don't want them withering on the vine because of excuses. My sister knows that Liam's first commitment is to this label and not her little project. Get with the guys in booking this week and get them on the road. I want more exposure. And get them into the studio to do a rerecord on that song that Robin hates. I don't care how much any of the others like it. It's atrocious."

Emma didn't want to think about how Regina knew of the song that honestly wasn't that bad. "I'll make it a priority," she said, a phrase she often used with her boss. "What about…"

"I think those are enough priorities for this week," Regina said as if offering some sort of reprieve. Emma didn't doubt that there would be six emails of more tasks by the end of the day. "It is coming up on your birthday week after all."

That was a surprise. "End of the month," Emma answered the unspoken question, staring a bit incredulously at her boss. "I didn't know that you…"

"Relax, I'm not looking through your personnel files. I was merely invited by Robin to a little get together your fiancé is throwing you."

Trying not to appear too stunned by both the invitation of her boss and the fact that it appeared Killian was throwing her a surprise party, Emma nodded mutely.

"I know that this can all be a little awkward with socializing outside of work. I wouldn't want you to feel uncomfortable about it. I was just thinking since this party is at the Rabbit Hole that we book the entertainment that night with a few of the local acts you've been working with these days. Maybe not a showcase, but it might get a little attention."

"I'm not sure that's what Killian had in mind…" She honestly had no idea what he had in mind, as he hadn't told her a thing about the party. She wasn't even sure she was happy about it, as birthdays were something that she liked to avoid thinking about in terms of her own. "I mean it will probably just be a little low key."

"Ms. Swan, I think you need to look at the opportunities here. I'm betting he invited that little blogger friend of yours. You know the one with the month as his name. Imagine the write up he could do if he had exclusive access. It could even get syndicated in the trades. I'm liking this idea. I guess it is a bit gauche for you to plan the acts for your own birthday party. I'll do that. Just make sure the publicity department leaks the details enough that our media friends want access. When they can't get it, they'll show up outside."

***AAA***

Elsa sipped the warm peppermint tea and watched the emotions run across her sister's face with an amazing speed. In October there was not much in the way of peppermint available, most of the blends leaning toward pumpkin spice. However, Anna's morning sickness had only been settled with the strongest of mint flavors. So when Storybrooke's only store that sold tea bags had produced only one dusty plastic covered box, Liam and Kris had agreed to drive two hours away to find the right combination. It had become somewhat of a joke that they had to drive so far, but Anna had been so grateful that she had launched herself at both men, hugging them tightly and threatening to name the baby after Liam in some way.

"We look happy," Anna said breathlessly at the photograph that Elsa had finally found among a few of their father's books that she had kept. "I mean you and mom and dad do. I'm a newborn. Do you think newborns can look happy? I hadn't really thought about that. Do you think my baby is happy? I don't want him or her to…"

"I'm sure the baby is happy," Elsa ensured her, feeling a bit like the boy putting his thumb in the dam to stop the leak. "And I think we were very happy then. Mom was always holding you. She said you were the least fussy baby ever. I cried when other people held me, but not you. You were always cooing and putting on a show for whoever had you at that moment. Even Mr. Wicker. You remember him. He looked like a troll or a warlock or something. Every kid we knew was scared of him, but not you."

"He wasn't that bad. He was just misunderstood." She turned the photo over in her hand, seeing their mother's curving handwriting on the back. Even though she knew the script by heart now, she read it again anyway. "I miss them. Isn't that crazy? They've been gone for so long and I still miss them. More now. I guess it's the baby. This is their first grandchild and I wish…"

"I know. I wish they were here to see you and the baby too. You know dad would be excited and overprotective as usual. And mom would put up a good front, but she'd be concerned about what the baby would call her. You know she hated the idea of anyone thinking she was a day older than she was."

The townhome they had shared was now Anna and Kristoff's home. Elsa's former room emptied and becoming ready for transformation into a nursery. Nothing had been decided yet, but the bare walls had a few splotches of paint samples that Anna had changed her mind on daily. "It's just sad that the baby will only have us and Aunt Ingrid as family."

Ingrid had finally left a few weeks before, still harboring disapproval of Liam and questioning Elsa's plans for the future. She had said she would be back again for the holidays, but neither sister had issued an invitation. "I think I'll take on all the aunt duties. It's only fair, right?"

"Maybe double duty," Anna said, her free hand fluttering over the more obvious curve of her lower abdomen. "Kristoff and I were talking about you maybe being godmother. Now don't answer yet. I still don't know how all this works. I mean you and I didn't have that, but he did. And he's insisting that our baby have godparents and christenings and all that. I don't want to think about all the planning for that party. But anyway. Let's think about it, okay? He or she can still call you Aunt Elsa or Auntie Elsa or just Elsa if you prefer. Or we could come up with some other name."

"I'd be honored, Anna."

***AAA***

Mary Margaret's pregnancy was progressing quickly as well, evidenced by the roundness of her face more than her stomach by October. Killian wouldn't have said anything, knowing that she was quite sensitive about the topic and he was not an idiot.

"If I was orange, my head would look like a pumpkin," she announced as she entered the office off his music classroom on the Friday before Emma's birthday. He had not planned to stay later than the normal planning time that day, but the files on his desk had beckoned. Usually he was exempt from such paperwork. However, Gold's new plan meant that he had to justify the expenses of each child's musical education with research driven data that his or her academic studies were enhanced by the efforts. It meant a two to three page narrative on every student, including those who were simply in music because it was the only class that fit a rigorous schedule or for purely social reasons.

"I dare say we could all say that about ourselves," he countered good naturedly, typing the end of the sentence before looking up and moving a stack of journals out of the chair so she could sit. "I hope this realization doesn't mean you're avoiding the party tomorrow."

"I'm not thrilled at the idea of being photographed at it, but I'll be there. Seems like a big deal for Emma both personally and professionally."

"Aye, I'm afraid once Ms. Mills became involved that there was no stopping the size. She's dropping hints to the trades and planning on leaking photos on social media whatever that means in this case. I was just planning friends, a cake, and maybe a round of singing happy birthday."

The pixie haired brunette let him vent a bit about the party getting out of his control, telling him that Emma would still appreciate his gesture. However, they both knew she would probably dislike the attention. Besides it was sounding like it might be a little too close to work for her. And as much as Killian needed the reassurance, he was pretty sure that his colleague was not there to discuss the birthday party at all. He even wondered if she was about to start her pressure for wedding planning on him, but relegated that to the back of his mind. He'd been involved in the not quite yet formal wedding plans that had taken a back seat to real life.

"You're wondering why I'm here, right?" she asked, interrupting his thoughts on the subject. "Well, it's just that I didn't know if you had noticed lately that a lot of us have…"

She didn't get to finish the sentence when Henry entered and wanted to know if Killian had nutmeg in the house. A mental inventory had determined that he didn't, which was then added to a list that he promised to pick up on the way home. She either welcomed the interruption so much that she didn't fight to continue the conversation or she was overwhelmed by it and offered to take him to pick up the items for Emma's birthday breakfast instead.

***AAA***

The wait for takeout took far longer than Killian had planned, the sky dark and most already finished with the evening meal by the time he took the sharp turn onto the road that ran by the shore. Emma had arrived home from work famished and exhausted – having been in the studio with Liam and the guys and hedging off offers for a group they had just signed. She had made some mention of heating up leftovers that nobody could remember where they came from. However, Killian would not hear of it and placed an order at the local Asian Fusion place with special instructions from Henry to make sure the rice was fried with peas and carrots.

It did his heart good to know that Emma was merely a mile away from him at the moment, a distance he could quickly cover by foot if he had to do so. Most of her time back had been spent at work with Regina finalizing details on development deals for several artists and bands she had found. While not one for compliments, Regina had said that the signings were more than adequate. The night before Emma had barely made it through dinner without her head dropping to her arm and sleep coming to overtake her. Even though she had been back almost two and a half weeks, Henry was still thrilled to have his mother back, following her about and telling and retelling tales from school and his social life. She had done her best to listen, though most of the stories had already been related to her by phone or in person.

The house was practically dark when he pulled the jeep in beside Emma's yellow car, a sight that made his heart skip a beat at the knowledge she was inside. Only the light of the fire that he had built before he left and a lamp near the front door provided any visible signs of life in the home. Balancing bags on his handless arm and fumbling with the keys, he tried to enter quietly with the knowledge that Emma and Henry could very well be asleep.

He was half right, as Henry was sacked out on the couch under one of Granny's knitted throws. His head was resting on a pillow that was anchored by Emma's lap, her hand softly running along the hair that she had already warned was being cut at the first opportunity.

"Hello, love," Killian said in a quiet voice after shutting the door. "Killian's delivery service has arrived."

She smiled sleepily, her other hand propping up her head on the arm of the sofa. "Eat in here?" she asked, sounding very much like her son with the husky sound of exhaustion. They had tried hard to make a rule that eating was to be done at the table, but the regulation lasted only a short time. Killian had not put up too much of a fight about it, as he recognized that the intimacy afforded them by curling up together for meals was far greater than formality around a table.

"Of course," he declared, placing the containers and bags on the coffee table and shooing off her attempts to help. "I've got it. I'll grab some plates and drinks. Do you think the lad wants to join us or should we let him sleep?"

Her eyes studied her son who seemed not quite his age as he lay curled up beside her. "He seems awfully tired, but his stomach is rumbling too. Maybe I should let him know dinner is ready."

"The two of you are going to catch up on your sleep this weekend," Killian announced firmly, scurrying about the kitchen to gather a few items. "I insist."

"No arguments here, but might ought to check with Henry, your brother, Elsa, and Ruby. Oh and Mary Margaret who has been texting me like crazy to get a plan together for wedding planning. I think our calendar might be filling up fast." She shifted slightly, her fingers twirling in Henry's hair. "And you've been awesome about keeping it a secret, but there's the whole surprise party thing tomorrow night."

Carrying a few condiments, plates, cups, and a large bottle of soda all balanced in his hand and under arms, Killian dropped down to one of the floor pillows and began setting up. "Who told you?"

Emma snorted with a slight shake of her head. "You do realize that it is hard to keep a secret in Storybrooke. Nearly impossible." She widened her eyes in surprise as he stopped dividing up the prawns and pork to give her a quick but hard kiss. "What's that for?"

"We hadn't properly greeted each other yet. I thought one of us should take the initiative."

She rolled her eyes again at his follow up kiss, pushing him back to the pillow before she set about waking Henry. His sleep patterns were still of concern to her, though he claimed the nightmares had subsided. He looked less tired than he had, the circles under his eyes not as dark. Still she was worried. So far he'd had about seven appointments with Dr. Hopper to see about what might be troubling him. While the reports showed nothing so far, she was hopeful they were on their way.

When Henry was in the bathroom washing up, Killian told her of Mary Margaret's cryptic visit to his classroom. She had not suggestions for the reason, but admitted it was a curious development.

***AAA***

"Killian?" Emma hissed against his ear, breath warm and sweet. "Killian, wake up."

They muted light was not yet bright enough to illuminate the bedroom they shared

"Hmmmm?" Killian asked, his handless arm pulling her from the middle closer to him. "It's not time to get up yet, love."

"I hear something," she said, pushing her hand against his chest to lift up inspect the dim room for any sign of an intruder. "I think someone's out there."

Grunting inelegantly, Killian ran his hand over his face. "Love, I assure you that it is fine."

"I heard someone walking," Emma insisted. He sighed again in response, leaving her to push away from him and reach to the end of the bed for her robe. "I'm going to go check it out."

"Emma, please don't. It is not an intruder."

"How do you know? There could be 14 people out there robbing us blind and getting ready to murder us. We could…" She threw the belt into a sloppy knot and searched with her toes for slippers or shoes. Finding none, she tiptoed toward the door. The gurgling of pipes echoed through the cool stillness. "See I told you. There is someone out there right now. I'm going to check."

"Emma," Killian said, pushing down the blankets and reaching out to her. "Come back to bed. I assure you that there is no malfeasance or mischief about."

She rolled her eyes that his vocabulary was still that of a teacher even in the predawn hours. "And how do you know? They could be in there washing away finger prints."

"Love, it's your birthday, remember?"

She felt her brow wrinkle with that odd reminder of the date of her birth. "Killian, seriously. I remember when my birthday is. I'm not completely idiotic. What does that have to do with people out there planning to kill us." She looked desperately about the room, her eyes narrowing on certain items before skipping to another. "Do you not have any weapons? A gun? A bat? A sword? Something?"

"Emma, your son is out there."

"Henry!" She lunged forward to the doorknob, fumbling for it in her attempt to get to her son and whatever intruder was threatening him.

"Making you breakfast," Killian concluded. "For your birthday."

Her hand was on the knob, having turned in a quarter of the way before the words sank into her brain. "My son is cooking?"

"Aye, a surprise breakfast for you. I taught him to make pancakes one morning while you were gone. He's got quite the knack for it, love."

"My son is making me breakfast," she said, seeming a bit more emotional than she should be at the idea. "And you taught him."

"Should I not have? I thought it was a sweet gesture, a bit of mother son bonding once he learned the craft." His fingers groped for her wrist, pulling her back on the rumpled bed. "He's excited about doing this for you, said he always thought it would be a lovely gift for you, love."

"He's not going to burn the house down, is he?" Emma asked, giving a glance to the door, as if it offered a way to see her son.

"I should hope not, but if you wish, I will go check on the lad and you can curl back up and feign sleep for the purposes of this act of generosity." His lips touched her forehead and then the tip of her nose before pulling away to appreciate the way her lips turned up despite the fact that she was trying to decide if she was put out by his initiative or upset by Henry's march toward adulthood.

"He's a pretty good kid," she conceded, allowing Killian to let her back into the bed and pull the covers up over her legs. "Thank you for helping him."

"I would think all the credit belongs to you and to Neal."

"Group effort."

Killian ran his hand over her cheek, his fingers warm despite the obvious chill in the air. "I'm going to go check on the lad, but do try to be surprised when he comes in with the feast. It means so much to him."
Wiggling to remove her hastily added robe, Emma rolled her eyes again. "You mean like the party tonight at the Rabbit Hole. I'm going to have to pretend to be surprised a lot tonight, aren't I?"

He fished out his t-shirt and covered his upper body with it, trying to appear annoyed at being found out for his plans. As it was, he had argued in a good natured way with both Ruby and Elsa about the surprise party plans for Emma, knowing that she was less likely to be apt to wanting a fuss. Last night's revalation that she knew had come as a surprise to him, but now her rubbing it in was just annoying. "You know the answer to that." He leaned over to kiss her lightly again as she snuggled under the covers. "If you wish to break your friends' hearts by telling them that they already knew, far be it from me to argue. By the way, happy birthday."

"You just had to slide that in there," she said with an exaggerated pout. "I don't really like birthdays."

Winking at her, Killian did not respond and disappeared into the living room with a quiet thud of the door. It was there that he found Henry carefully ladling batter onto the griddle just as he had practiced nearly half a dozen times under Killian's tutelage. The teenager was concentrating with such focus that he barely heard the soft slap of Killian's socked feet against the wide planked hardwoods.

"Is she awake?" Henry asked, not bothering with a greeting.

"Aye, I convinced her to stay in bed and keep warm. She was afraid there was an intruder out here." Killian peered over Henry's shoulder to look at the batter consistency, complimenting it's texture as nearly perfect.

"She's going to hate this, isn't she?"

"Your mother is likely to appreciate anything that you do or gesture that you make. I'd fear more for myself and her friends who wish to celebrate her tonight. We don't have the luck of mother and son bonding on our side." He looked over at the counter where the other ingredients were lined up with some precision and organization. "Would you like some help?"

"Just keep Mom occupied," Henry said, nodding in the direction of the closed door. "I don't want her coming in and finding a mess."

Killian nodded, noting that the orange rinds in the garbage were indication that Henry had been at it for a while now, including squeezing juice for his mother that would probably not complement the hot cocoa that was a standard for most mornings with Emma. She loved her coffee too, but hot cocoa with cinnamon was something she had frequently at some of her foster homes. It was one of the only young and innocent things about her somedays. "Call out if you need anything," he instructed. "And Henry?"

"Yeah?" Henry answered, expertly flipping the pancake with his spatula.

"Maybe you could show me some time how you got them to that consistency. That's bloody amazing."

Emma was practicing his surprised face when Killian returned to bed, something that made him chuckle at the innocence of the act the fact that her acting skills weren't that good. She propped herself up against the headboard and ran a hand through her bed tousled hair. "It smells wonderful," she told Killian with a little awe in her voice. "You did good teaching him."

"I had some help on the subject. Mary Margaret's husband gave a few suggestions, including some super secret one that it appears the lad has employed."

"Nutmeg," Emma suggested, having been a part of breakfast with the now married Nolan family before. "I didn't know he was handing out that secret now."

Killian surmised that Emma and her son were just good at getting such information out of people. He then turned a thoughtful gape upon her as she readjusted the blankets over her lap in anticipation of her son's not so surprise filled attempt. "Do you really hate birthdays so much?"

"My own," she admitted. "It's not a getting older thing. It's just that growing up in foster homes and group homes, birthdays weren't a big deal. No deal actually. I would wake up on the morning of my birthday and nobody would acknowledge it. I would build it up in my head that they must be planning something great, but then nothing. And by the time I went to bed that night I would tell myself it didn't matter."

"But it did matter," Killian said softly, his heart feeling heavy at the admission. Each time she opened up about the pain of those years he swore it would be the last time she would have to share it for him to understand. He should have known or guessed. At least that was what he told himself. And if he had to hire a psychic to help him, he planned to never again to anything that would bring back bad memories of those days.

"I survived it," she reminded him. "And it seems that I have a fiancé and a son who seem hell bent that I feel appreciated on my birthday. So let me get past the idea that nobody cares and enjoy this morning with my boys, ok?"

I apologize again for the delay in this. I hope this supersized chapter made up for a little of that. I promise a new update soon.