Emma was chewing her lip. It was her own fault; well actually it was His fault but when you looked at the direct problem... it was her fault.

Sighing she picked up the phone and called Mary-Margaret.

"Yes?"

"Hey Mary-Margaret, it's Emma. Look… could you teach me how to sew on a button?" Emma nearly forced the words out. It was a bit embarrassing to say the least. 29 years old and not even capable to sew on a button. Track a guy with 3 false identities and take him back in time for his new parole hearing , slay a dragon, defeat a wicked witch; no problem.

But sewing a button back on, why she'd be clueless and left with sore fingers for even trying.

"You don't know how? What did you do these past years when it happened?"

"Chucked it and bought a new one?" she tried, an honest to god truth but her mother dear just laughed in disbelief.

"Just bring it on over and I'll fix it for you, how's that?"

"Are you sure?" Emma asked, straightening at her desk, "there are… well quite a few."

"Of course. Just bring them over, you know I've been itching to do something… your sister isn't allowing me much though." Mary-Margaret answered, rubbing her belly to calm the little one's kicks. Only a few more months to go, she thought.

"Alright. I'll have Killian bring them over. Thanks Mary-Margaret."

"No problem sweetie."

It was only an hour later when someone rang the doorbell, rousing Mary-Margaret from her rather comfortable position on the couch. She waddled over to the door only to find Hook – oh for god sake Snow start calling him Killian – full of his shirts and on top a bag with a lot of buttons.

She eyed him incredulously, certain that every shirt he owned was chucked in there, and all he could do was give her an impish smile with a blush rising on his cheeks.

"Sorry your majesty, but your daughter can be rather impatient."