I do not own the rights to the TV show, the characters, or the music. This is just me writing as a fan.

No copyright infringement intended. Pls don't sue me. :)

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"A Storybrooke Thanksgiving"

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"Mum, you can't magically speed-cook a turkey. That's cheating!" Henry's voice carried through the mansion's kitchen, where Regina stood with her hands hovering over an uncooked turkey, purple magic shimmering at her fingertips.

"I don't see why not," Regina replied, lowering her hands with a slight frown. "It would be perfectly safe, and we're already behind schedule because *someone* forgot to defrost it yesterday."

Emma, who had been attempting to hide behind her coffee mug, winced. "In my defence, I was chasing a literal giant through town. The turkey didn't seem like a priority at the time."

Regina turned to fix her with an arch look. "And the three days before that?"

"Okay, that's fair," Emma admitted, setting down her mug and pushing off from where she'd been leaning against the counter. "But hey, think of it this way – now we get to do this the traditional way. Family bonding and all that."

Regina's expression softened slightly at the word 'family,' something that didn't escape Emma's notice. "The traditional way generally doesn't involve trying to cook a frozen turkey three hours before dinner."

"Challenge accepted!" Emma declared, rolling up her sleeves. "Henry, grab your mum's fancy cooking tablet. We're going to need to Google some turkey-thawing hacks."

"No 'hacks,'" Regina said firmly, but there was fond amusement in her voice. "This is Thanksgiving dinner, not one of your emergency ramen noodle situations."

Henry was already scrolling through his tablet. "It says we can use cold water to speed up thawing. And there's a way to cook it from frozen, but it takes longer."

"See?" Emma grinned triumphantly. "We've got options. And hey, if all else fails, we can order from Granny's."

The look Regina gave her could have frozen the turkey solid again. "We are not serving diner food at Thanksgiving dinner. The entire town is coming."

"About that," Emma sidled closer to Regina, adopting her most charming smile. "Why exactly did we agree to host the whole town?"

"Because you," Regina poked Emma's shoulder, "can't say no to your mother, and I," she sighed, "apparently can't say no to you."

"Aww," Emma's grin widened. "You love me."

Regina rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched upward. "I tolerate you. Now make yourself useful and help Henry with the vegetables."

The next two hours were controlled chaos. Emma and Henry tackled the vegetable prep while Regina supervised the turkey situation, occasionally muttering under her breath about proper planning and the indignity of rush-cooking. Every now and then, purple sparks would flicker at her fingers, and both Emma and Henry would call out "No magic!" in unison, making Regina huff in exasperation.

"You know," Emma said as she struggled with a particularly stubborn potato, "when I was a kid, I used to dream about having real family Thanksgivings. Though I've got to say, none of those dreams involved possibly poisoning the entire town with an undercooked turkey."

Regina paused in her meticulous basting to look at Emma, her expression softening in that way it did whenever Emma mentioned her childhood. "We're not going to poison anyone. Though your mother might wish we had when she tastes my apple pie."

"Mum!" Henry exclaimed, but he was laughing.

"What? It's a perfectly normal, non-magical apple pie," Regina said innocently. "The fact that it will be superior to Snow's in every way is merely... coincidental."

Emma shook her head, grinning. "You're ridiculous. Both of you," she added as Henry started listing all the ways Regina's pie was objectively better, complete with a scoring system.

The doorbell rang just as they were setting the last dishes out, the turkey having miraculously (but non-magically) turned out perfect.

"Ready?" Emma asked, watching as Regina straightened an already-perfect place setting.

Regina looked around at her dining room, now expanded to accommodate the entire town, at Henry arranging name cards with careful consideration of various feuds and alliances, at Emma in the ridiculous turkey-themed apron she'd insisted on wearing. Her face softened into a real smile.

"Ready," she said, reaching for Emma's hand and squeezing it once before letting go. "Though if your mother makes one comment about the cranberry sauce..."

"You'll be perfectly civil," Emma finished, grinning. "And then you'll mysteriously misplace her pie at dessert time."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, dear."

Henry appeared between them, throwing an arm around each of their waists. "Best Thanksgiving ever," he declared.

And as their guests started filing in, bringing dishes and stories and the controlled chaos that was Storybrooke's version of normal, Emma had to agree. It wasn't perfect – there was still tension between some of the guests, Regina's smile got a bit fixed whenever Snow praised her cooking with surprised delight, and Leroy managed to start at least two minor arguments before the turkey was served.

But it was real, and it was theirs, and when Emma looked across the table to see Regina hiding a genuine smile behind her wine glass while Henry regaled everyone with the tale of the Great Turkey Crisis of 2024, she knew she wouldn't have it any other way.

Besides, Regina had only used magic once, and that was just to keep the potatoes from burning, so Emma figured that counted as a win.

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#Happy Thanksgiving! Write some reviews :)