"But the thing... the thing... um," Regina loses her train of thought again as the loud rock music overwhelms everything. Apparently Ruby raided Graham's sad little apartment and retrieved his favorite CDs, which now blast over the club's terrible PA system.

"Rum?" Emma asks, and if Regina hadn't seen her drinking orange juice all night, she'd assume Emma was pretty drunk, too.

"No," Regina says, shaking her head, which is a really awful idea when it comes to balance. "Mr. Gold."

"He's a dick?" Emma asks, leaning in with a conspiratorial wink.

"Did you know," Regina responds, too far gone to care. "That he basically ruined my whole life?"

"Well," Emma says, knocking back the rest of her juice and not-very-successfully stifling a burp. "We should do something about that."

BABY BABY

Emma didn't really mean for the night to turn out this way, but there's something to be said for the sight of Regina, no longer caring about her scandalous hemline, throwing a garbage can at the window of Gold's dingy pawn shop.

The glass shatters in such a satisfying way that Emma almost forgets to run. Thankfully she's been in so much trouble over the years that her legs move before her brain can catch up.

Regina is not much help, hand over her mouth to cover an excited scream of what might just be relief.

"That felt great!" She confesses, as Emma yanks her towards the back alley to make a hasty escape.

BABY BABY

The Deputy responds much slower than Graham would have, but Regina has only barely found a stack of wooden crates to hide behind when the beam of a flashlight splays across the bricks.

"Maybe I should go out there and-" Regina starts to say, concentrating especially hard not to slur her words, but Emma clamps a cool hand over Regina's mouth.

"Shut up," Emma hisses in her ear. "Or do you really want to spend the night in a cell?"

Regina conjures a witty reply, but something in her brain short-circuits when she thinks of being locked in that confined space with Emma. Something in her subconscious conjures the image of Regina handcuffed to those sturdy metal bars, and Emma kneeling-

Jesus Christ, just what are they putting in martinis these days?

Shaking her head, Regina nips at the skin of Emma's palm to make her remove the unwanted hand, but Emma holds firm until the deputy moves off down the street.

BABY BABY

They're hysterical with laughter by the time Emma drags Regina through her front door. It's only then that Regina seems to suddenly sober.

"The baby! I've been leaning on you all night and all that running can't-"

"Ssh," Emma soothes. "I'm fine. The doctor said to get plenty of exercise."

"I thought I would be tired," Regina says. "But I'm not. I got you a present, do you want it now?"

"I love presents!" Emma squeals, ignoring the pang of guilt. Besides, knowing Regina it's going to be some ten-thousand-page book about how to be a lady, or something.

She's actually speechless, then, when Regina leads her into the den and shows her a brand new games console, all boxed up with a karaoke game and all the extras, sitting on the coffee table.

"This is for me?" Emma gasps, genuinely touched.

"I asked Ruby what you like," Regina admits. "I can't take credit. But now that Graham is... no longer with us, I thought you might appreciate the distraction."

If she hadn't sneaked four shots of tequila, Emma might point out that even a foster kid knows a shiny new toy is no replacement for a person, but Regina looks like she's going to burst from holding her breath in anticipation.

"I love it!" Emma says, and although it goes against just about every rule she has, she tries to summon what a good person like Mary Margaret would do, and extends her arms to Regina. For a moment, Regina just stares, like Emma is trying to communicate in semaphore and Regina has forgotten this particular signal. But then she gets it, and Emma moves in for the kill. No, for the hug. God, this human affection crap is way too complicated.

Regina, of course, is about as pliant as a plasterboard wall, but Emma wraps her arms around the rigid Mayor anyway, inhaling deeply the rich tones of Regina's perfume.

"I really need to get changed," Regina mutters. "This dress is indecent."

"You can keep it," Emma says softly. "Every woman should have at least one dress that makes her feel a little slutty."

"What a healthy message," Regina sighs, and Emma actually hears her eyes rolling back, it's so pronounced.

A minute later, Emma realizes the hug hasn't actually ended. She's about to pull away when Regina speaks again.

"Is the baby... is it kicking yet? I know it's early, but I read that sometimes-"

"Not yet," Emma says, the guilt rising up in the back of her throat, the taste of bile all she can process in that moment. Regina looks so hopeful that Emma wants the ground to swallow her up. She should never have let August talk her into something too big to handle. "I'll uh... keep you posted though. Anyway, I'm pretty beat..."

"Of course, you should rest," Regina says, back in babysitting mode. "I'll bring you some warm milk up before I go to bed."

"It's okay," Emma insists, but she knows she's going to get it anyway.

BABY BABY

Wiping the excessive makeup from her face doesn't take long, but Regina lingers in front of the mirror, examining herself.

She hasn't had reckless, stupid fun like that since... well. It reminds her of Daniel and his naive insistence on just doing whatever she wanted; Regina fights the frown at remembering exactly where that had gotten them.

Fresh pajamas take no more than a minute to change into, and still feeling tipsy, Regina is careful about negotiating the stairs, heating the milk in the microwave for safety's sake. It's times like these that she misses magic most, when she's tired and just not trusting enough of this world's ways.

Emma is waiting, fresh-faced and impossibly young, cross-legged on the bed despite being wrapped in one of Regina's robes. Some bright red underwear preserves some modesty, but Regina still finds herself blushing until she focuses on the gentle curve of Emma's stomach.

"Sleep well," she says, trying not to make it sound like a command for once.

"You too," Emma says, blowing on the milk to cool it.

BABY BABY

A hangover is one thing-Regina actually crawls to the en suite in search of aspirin-but the screeching noises from downstairs are quite another. Gulping water like she's just found an oasis in the midst of the sands of Agrabah, Regina makes a mental note to speak to someone about better insulating the house. Otherwise the baby is going to be giving command crying performances with better acoustics than Carnegie Hall.

"What... what are you doing?" She croaks, when she finally pushes the door of the den open. Inside, she discovers Emma dancing on the coffee table, apparently to some very loud song about kissing a girl. And liking it.

Oh.

The singing is apparently coming from Emma, too, and the girl hasn't met a key she can't butcher her way right back out of. Regina winces, before yanking the power cord from the wall.

"Hey!" Emma protests. "I was just about to level up!"

"To what?" Regina asks. "A stripper?"

"Rude," Emma retorts, but she's climbing down off the table with a sheepish grin, her oversized Nirvana t-shirt flapping around her thighs. "I thought the baby might appreciate some culture. So I started with Katy Perry."

"You started with..." Regina can't finish what she's repeating, breaking off and pinching her nose instead.

"Hey, you want some breakfast?" Emma asks, bouncing on the soles of her feet like an overexcited child. "It's about time I got a turn in the kitchen, anyway. And you need to soak up all those martinis."

"That... might help," Regina admits, thinking of the nights she'd drink herself to sleep on rich wine to avoid Leopold's attentions, and the breakfasts a sympathetic cook would prepare for her. "I'll just go shower quickly."

"I'll get started," Emma promises. "Be down in twenty, if you can."

BABY BABY

Ten minutes later, it's the smoke alarm that has her dashing back out of the shower.

BABY BABY

Emma has hidden the worst of it by the time Regina comes rushing in. A quick stab of the broom handle has shut the damn alarm up, but the frying pan is never going to be quite the same again.

"Uh, the French toast kind of didn't work," Emma admits. "But the rest is fine."

She nods towards the kitchen island, where freshly popped Pop Tarts (only a little burnt, because even the toaster is like a goddamned nuclear reactor in this house) and two glasses of Sunny D are waiting.

"I can't eat that," Regina complains, and somehow she manages to look bossy and totally composed, even though her robe is clinging to her wet skin, and there are drips of water from her hair making it worse by the second. They haven't actually had a conversation about how it's never going to happen again, but Regina's Frosty the Snow Bitch routine plus Graham's sudden death have put Emma's libido on ice.

There's a serious thaw in process at the sight of hard nipples pressing against wet silk though.

"Eat one pop tart?" Emma asks, trying not to pout. "And then if you really hate it, we'll go get breakfast at Granny's."

"It won't interfere with your stadium tour?" Regina mocks, sitting to the sugary breakfast with a sigh. "Miss Swan, I hope my child isn't developing a taste for this cuisine."

"Oh, I bet he's not. Or she."

"Are you saying-"

"Just habit, I swear. It's still too early to tell."

"Tell me these Pop Tarts at least have fruit in them?"

Emma smiles her most winning smile. "Well, in a way, chocolate is kind of like a fruit..."

BABY BABY

The town falls into a quiet sort of chaos without Graham around to do Regina's bidding. She gave up on heart control about a year after Kurt was dealt with, Graham's canine instincts responding marvelously to her training, meaning he could be more or less trusted to police the town without specific instructions.

Now, though, Storybrooke's days have lost their repetitive quality. The clock moves, and the weather continues to be as erratic as the people on television complain about. Regina huddles into a warm coat and misses the micro-climate of warm drizzle. She appoints Sidney as Sheriff, and the only person to challenge her on it is Emma, over dinner.

"A reporter as Sheriff? What counts as deadly force: a papercut?" Emma sassed, shovelling pasta into her mouth like wheat was about to be made illegal. At least the girl is starting to show now, her belly nicely rounded in a way that makes Regina's heart skip a beat every time she sees it.

With the citizens of Storybrooke back in their routine, Regina feels justified in leaving the office early again, eager to get home and inspect the babyproofing she ordered and had Geppetto spend the day installing. Maybe this will be the step that silences those nagging doubts, and makes it feel like a baby is truly on its way into her life.

BABY BABY

Afternoon naps are totally the best part of being fake-pregnant.

Emma hauls her sleepy ass out of bed just after four, and maybe it's all the trying to act pregnant and the extra weight of the strapped on cushion, but she really does need to pee a lot lately. The six-pack of Dr Pepper she's been hiding in the mini-fridge and polished off just after lunch might not be helping there, admittedly.

Wrinkling her nose at the sleepy sight of herself in the giant mirror, Emma moves to flip the toilet lid up (the perk of no longer crashing somewhere with August is that the seat is never up) and to her horror, it rattles a little in her hand but doesn't budge. She tries lifting the whole thing and still nothing.

It's only when she's using her leg for leverage and straining every muscle in her arms that she notices the little while clip. God, Regina has finally gone the rest of the way around the bend.

Emma looks at what seems to be a very simple device, takes a deep breath, and attempts to liberate the damn toilet.

BABY BABY

Regina doesn't call out in case Emma is resting, more than likely given that the curtains in her room are closed. At least the karaoke obsession has waned a little, and for the most part Emma is eating the healthy things Regina prepares. For the sake of keeping the peace, Regina doesn't mention the contents of the mini-fridge in Emma's room, or the box of Twinkies hidden in the back of the pantry; some battles really aren't worth fighting.

She heads upstairs to freshen up and change, the day clinging to her like smoke after a bonfire.

Opening her bathroom door shouldn't be a heart-stopping experience, but when Regina pushes it open to find Emma Swan squatting in her sink, she's quite sure the poor organ dies for a full minute.

"Uh," Emma says, blushing furiously. "Someone locked all the toilets?"

BABY BABY

Okay, but seriously? Who childproofs an entire freakin' mansion over four months before a baby is even due? Emma is full of apologies until the insults starting tripping off Regina's tongue, and then all bets are off.

It ends, as the worst fights do, with Emma sobbing in the bathtub and vowing to run in the middle of the night, never to be seen again.

BABY BABY

Right after Emma's 'running away' alarm sounds at three am, Regina knocks on the bedroom door.

"Please," Regina begs, crawling under the covers beside Emma, who hasn't dared to move beyond silencing her phone. "Don't go. I won't say those things again."

"You're in my bed," Emma says, glad that the cushion is wedged firmly under the mattress.

"I am," Regina admits. "I've been meaning to try this since that night. With the ultrasound."

"You're saying if I show you pictures, I get laid?" Emma teases, but she's already rolling onto her side, watching Regina in profile as she breathes, and it's such a gorgeous sight that Emma thinks she might finally understand why people burst into tears when they see a really pretty painting for the first time. "I don't have any more pictures right now," she adds, running a solitary fingertip over the waistband of Regina's pajama pants.

"I think we should do it anyway," Regina says, as bossy as ever but maybe not quite as confident. "When I made you cry, I... I don't want to be that kind of person. I don't want to be that kind of mother."

"Well, I'm not calling you Mommy," Emma can't resist the obvious joke. "But I can do this," she finishes, slipping her hand beneath the fabric, until her fingertips graze soft, tight curls.

"Yes," Regina says, and coming from her mouth, it sounds like a foreign language.

BABY BABY

Emma's smart enough not to fall asleep again after, sneaking away when Regina's soft snores start to sound in the dark room.

She could still run.

Instead she pulls the pregnancy cushion out as quietly as she can and takes it into the bathroom with some fresh clothes, intent on showering and starting Tuesday in a much better way than Monday.

She traces the paths that Regina's mouth and fingers charted, washing away the memories with shampoo and warm water. If she focuses on the scent of coconut and the tune she's humming, Emma can almost convince herself she didn't need that little repeat performance at all.

BABY BABY

Regina wakes in Emma's bed with a jolt, scrambling to get up even before her eyes are open.

"Morning," Emma says from the chair by the window. She's reading-an actual book-and with damp hair falling around her face and pink cheeks, Regina would have to say that Emma is glowing. Thankfully she doesn't have to say it out loud. "I'm assuming this doesn't change anything, right?"

"Right," Regina agrees, her throat dry. "But it was..."

"Yeah," Emma agrees. "It was."

BABY BABY

Emma's slurping down the ends of her hot chocolate, including a very fulfilling chunk of melted marshmallow, when she hears the rev of an engine and a very familiar tooting of the horn outside Granny's. Sure enough, Regina's Mercedes is idling in the middle of the street, blocking traffic while nobody dares get out of their car to question her.

Emma knows when she's being summoned, so she jogs out to take her place in the passenger seat.

"The Budget meeting ran long," Regina explains. "For some reason, people have started to actually ask questions. It takes twice as long as usual these days."

"Okay?" Emma ventures. "Are we late for something?"

It's been a peaceful two weeks, of not-quite-nightly trips with one or the other sneaking into bedrooms they didn't start the night in, except for Friday where they very embarrassingly ran into one another in the hall. It had taken fifteen minutes to reassure Regina that she hadn't induced early labor before she'd even think about letting Emma kiss her.

"I made an early appointment," Regina says, in a very conspiratorial tone, like she's scored Emma backstage passes for her favorite band. "Dr. Whale is a little reluctant, but he says we should be able to see something this soon, why wait another week just to be even clearer?"

"At the hospital?" Emma asks weakly.

"Of course," Regina sighs. "Or did you think I'd make you drive to Boston for your 20-week scan?"

"Well," Emma hedges, realizing that she really should have made her escape plan after handing over the 16-week scan. There's nothing August can do to help her now, and she doesn't have the skills to hack the hospital systems. "I do like going to my own doctor."

"I really want to be there," Regina says, pouting just a little as she shifts gears. "You wouldn't deny me that moment, surely?"

Before Emma can start to cobble together an argument, they're pulling into the hospital lot. Regina abandons her car on the edge of the ambulance bay, and once again people scatter in fear rather than question her.

"I can wait here, while you go park?" Emma suggest.

"There is fine," Regina insists. "Now, come along. I made Dr. Whale give up his lunchbreak for this."

Emma hasn't even seen any other pregnant women in town, so God knows what's made him so busy. Apart from a sweet blonde girl who's friends with Ruby, nobody even has a baby that Emma's seen.

"Can I take a bathroom break first?" Emma pleads. "You know, baby bladder and everything?"

"They prefer you to have a full bladder. But fine, be quick," Regina says, and to Emma's complete, heart-sinking despair, follows Emma into the ladies' room.

Shimmying out of the window is no longer an option, since the only one is outside the cubicles, where Regina is making a show of washing her hands. Emma locks herself inside one stall and leans against the door in an attempt to regulate her breathing. If only she hadn't already provided fake photos, she might have been able to convince Regina it had simply been a false positive. Little does Regina know that Emma's peeing on a stick had only brought up a little row of negatives, before Emma called and lied her sweet, about to be dead ass off.

There's no choice but to face the music. The moment Emma's done washing her hands, Regina grabs her by the arm and practically drags her to the ultrasound room. She presses some bottled water into Emma's hand, and she downs it in huge gulps just to avoid having to speak.

Dr. Whale greets her with the usual bored expression, but still manages to get a lingering glance at her boobs in there, too. The man's a pro, and Emma almost has to applaud that. She could 'fess up now, end the charade before the gown is on and the gel is applied, but she's clinging onto one last, desperate hope that this will somehow present as an invisible miscarriage or something. Which, Emma realizes, makes her pretty much the shittiest person alive.

She's on the bed, sheet over her legs and gown hiked up, when Regina leans in. For a moment, the stony expression suggests she's on to Emma, and is simply exposing her as a heartless fraud. But the crinkle around her mouth and eyes suggests something else, and Emma recognizes it all too well: the shaking last defenses of someone trying desperately not to lose their cool in public.

"Regina," she says, barely feeling the ultrasound wand as it makes first contact. "I can explain."

"Well, well, well," Dr. Whale says, and Emma feels the water sloshing in her stomach, a sure sign that she's about to toss her cookies. "What have we here?"

"Oh!" Regina gasps, before slapping her hand over her mouth. "Oh, Emma!"

"I'm sorry," Emma pleads, reaching for Regina's arm like a fool with a deathwish. It's only when Regina keeps staring at the screen that Emma hears the noise. Like the creepy soundtrack to every movie with a submarine in it, there's a whoomp, whoomp, splashing kind of sound.

That's when Emma dares to look, and comes one blink from blacking out in shock.

"What the fuck?" She blurts, unable to help herself. "What is that?"

"Well, not to disappoint you," Dr. Whale smarms. "But that is, in fact, a penis. So you're having a little boy, Ms Swan. Sorry, Ms Mills."

"A boy?" Regina murmurs, walking around the bed to touch the monitor. Emma hasn't seen anyone this enthralled by a screen since the little blonde kid in Poltergeist. "We're having a little boy?"

The 'we' takes Emma by surprise, but she barely has time to process it before the thundering train of JesusChristWhatTheHell comes thundering through her consciousness again.

"I'm really pregnant," she breathes. "And everything is fine? The heart and... everything?"

"I'm counting ten fingers and ten toes," Whale confirms. "That's a good strong heartbeat, and he's about as big as we'd hope for at this stage. You're doing a great job here for Mayor Mills."

"Emma," Regina says, finally remembering she's there. And that she can touch Emma's cushion-free but still slightly rounded belly. "You're really doing this for me. I don't know how to-"

"You don't have to," Emma squirms. Because she's doing her math and if those negative pee sticks were with Regina's egg, then she still has a lot of 'splaining to do, and Lucille Ball Emma most certainly isn't. "I'm gonna get dressed and then maybe you can go get a printout from the nurses' station?

"That's where they print?" Regina asks Whale. He nods, watching Emma like a hawk.

"Spill," he says, the minute Regina walks out of the door. "And don't think of bribing me, I make what she's paying you for baby hosting in a quarter."

"Listen, doc, I don't know what you're-"

"Emma, she's not a good enemy to make. Trust me. Maybe I can help you if you tell me what's going on and why you didn't expect to see a baby on that screen."

"Well, I took the tests about after the implantation," Emma admits. "And okay so it wasn't exactly two weeks, but they were negative. And I wasn't exactly crossing my fingers for a positive, you know what I mean?"

"You were going to take the money and run?" Whale confirms. "Girl, she would have hunted you down and... well, within an hour."

"I'm sure she's not that good," Emma tries to convince herself. "Anyway, I thought I was just putting on a little weight 'cause I'm eating everything I can get my hands on."

"So how are you pregnant?" Whale asks, checking the door for signs of Regina returning. She's nowhere in sight.

"Probably because I uh... you know, with a guy," Emma mutters, hiding her face in her hands. "And he's dead now anyway, so there goes child support when Regina gives me my own reject baby back."

"Graham?" Whale says, before bursting out laughing. "Oh, Ms Swan, I'm afraid not. Who else could it be?"

"No one!" Emma protests. "He's the only guy in a year, in fact."

"Well, Graham is also infertile," Whale informs her. "I shouldn't be telling you that, but what the hell, he's dead. He had a hunting accident a few years ago. So while some parts still worked there was no... uh, filling in the doughnut, so to speak."

"That's the grossest thing I've ever heard anyone say," Emma groans. "And I peed in a sink the other week."

"Wait," Whale continues. "You said you took the tests early?"

"Yeah, just a few days," Emma says. "I figured better sooner than later, right?"

"Not really," Whale says, patting her shoulder like a disappointed coach might. "That's how most false negatives happen. Congratulations, Ms Swan. You really are carrying Regina's baby."

"I am?" Emma starts to sob in relief. She doesn't have to do it. She doesn't have to break Regina's heart and ruin her life and all of the things that have been weighing on her.

She finishes dressing quickly, eager to get back out and process this new development. She comes to a sharp halt in the hallway though, seeing Regina leaning against the wall, in the one blind spot, between the room's two window panels.

"Yes, Miss Swan," Regina says, her voice barely a whisper. "I overheard the last part of your conversation. You were planning to trick me?"

"I panicked," Emma yelps, and that's exactly what she's doing now. "I didn't want to let you down. But you saw it yourself: I really am pregnant. With your egg. It's your baby, Regina. Your baby boy."

"You should stay away from me right now," Regina decides. "Because I don't want to risk that little life inside you."

"Regina, please," Emma is ready to drop to her knees if she has to. "Don't be that way."

"Stay with your friends," Regina suggests. "Or go back to your motel room. Tell Granny to bill me again."

BABY BABY

Regina marches straight to Gold's shop, and in the moment she says "Rum-" she sees everything she needs to know. The flash of recognition even he couldn't disguise.

"Is my curse breaking?" She demands to know, because plans must be made.

"I don't know what you mean," he lies, but the pressure of her fingers on his throat reminds him in a hurry. "Your Majesty," he croaks. "How lovely to see you again."

She releases him and he slumps, coughing and gasping for air.

"What will happen?" She wants to know.

"I suspect your love for that baby is the issue," Gold says, his old leer pulling at the corners of his thin lips. "And it's just a blob to you right now. Can you imagine, what it'll be like, to hold him in your arms for the first time?"

"How did you know-"

"I know everything, dearie. And this future was foretold long before you were even a babe yourself."

"I don't want to lose," Regina bites back a sob as she speaks. "I can't lose, after all this time."

"But the curse always had an expiration date," Rumple reminds her. "Just because you didn't think to ask, doesn't make it true. Emma Swan is your destiny."

"She's no such thing," Regina retorts, grabbing a golf club from a set in the corner, ready to unleash hell. She misses her magic so badly it makes her teeth ache to be without it.

"Oh, so sorry, did I hit a nerve?" The sing-song lilt in his voice makes Regina want to scream, because the chill that runs down her spine is an old one, the chill of her mother's heart vault and Leopold's castle and the mansion on winter nights when she gets lost in her loneliness and forgets to turn on the heat.

"The minute she pushes my baby out of her, I want her gone," Regina snaps. "You made this mess, and you will fix it."

"You're making a deal?" Rumple asks. "What do I get in return?"

"Your life," Regina says, with a sneer. She leaves, and slams the door hard enough to crack the glass.

BABY BABY

Emma hides for a few days, living off whatever Ruby brings her and sleeping as many hours as she can force her body to give her.

Eventually, her shame turns into anger, because whatever she did or didn't intend to do, she's still here and Regina is still getting her damn baby.

It's a great idea to go storming over there, until Regina has Sidney come and arrest Emma, right there on the pretty brick porch.

BABY BABY

Emma's heavily pregnant and counting the days when the weather improves. She sees glimpses of Regina on Main Street, her hair growing out and her suits as severe as ever. Granny is clearly reporting back on Emma's condition, and but for Ruby and Mary Margaret visiting, Emma would probably die of boredom.

"Not long now," Mary Margaret says. "You know, I've never even been pregnant, but I feel so confident when we talk about it."

"Because you're made to be a mom," Ruby insists, pouring lemonade for all three of them. "Look how you helped me go back for my GED."

"I did?" Mary Margaret asks, and although people here can be a little vague, Emma's caught by the genuine confusion. "You'd think I would remember."

"How long have you two known each other?" Emma asks, thinking nothing of it. It's only when she looks up to see her friends staring at each other that she realizes something is up.

"Snow?" Ruby whispers.

"Red!" Mary Margaret squeals, and they embrace like army buddies who made it back from the front in one piece. Emma feels really happy for them, even if she has no idea what-

Son. Of. A. Bitch.

"Emma?" Mary Margaret sounds all business now. "Are you okay?"

"Fuck!" Emma spits. "Con-ow!-contraction."

"The baby's coming," Ruby says, sounding way calmer than Emma feels.

"I had a daughter," Mary Margaret says, taking Emma's hand. "I called her Emma."

BABY BABY

Regina senses it before the phone rings.

She has her keys in hand and shoes on her feet by the time she picks up, and Emma's panting desperation is all the confirmation she needs.

"I'll meet you at the hospital," she confirms, racing towards the car. She doesn't dare look at the sky, but the storm clouds roll in anyway.

BABY BABY

"Regina!" Emma gasps, from where she's been forced into a wheelchair. "Everyone's gone nuts!"

"What do you mean?" Regina asks, despite insisting to herself she cares only about the baby and nothing at all about what Emma might have to say.

"Mary Margaret and Ruby are calling each other by weird names, and they keep muttering some plan about the Queen, and I know I'm in a lot of pain right now, but Mary Margaret keeps muttering about how I have the same name as her daughter, and I think she thinks, somehow that I might be-"

"You're Snow White's daughter?" Regina gasps, unable to help it. "No. No, I was so careful. That baby could never have survived in a new world, all alone."

"Regina?" Emma's eyes are like saucers now, more black than green. "Is there something going on in this town?"

"No," Regina mutters. "No, not like this."

"Owwwww!" Emma cries out suddenly, grasping the arms of the wheelchair.

"Does it hurt?" Regina asks, out of habit.

"It feels like I'm shitting a knife!" Emma pants, and she stares Regina down, defying her to call her on the language.

"Let's get you to a doctor," Regina says, snapping back into Mayoral mode. It's definitely best to get Emma away from wherever her newly-remembering friends are lurking. Regina wheels the chair through the doors, flagging down Whale with what she hopes is something like poise. Please let people from his world remember slower, or she's going to end up with a monster instead of a baby.

"Ms Swan," Whale says, no recognition as he looks at Regina. "How far apart are the-"

"Motherfu-"

"Close," Regina cuts off the profanity. "About a minute."

"Well, Madam Mayor," Whale says cheerily. "You'll be meeting your son very soon."

BABY BABY

She's had the private birthing suite reserved for months, and Regina notes with a wry smile that nobody else is in need of it. Emma stops yelling quite so loudly when lowered onto a plush bed, the small pool in the corner waiting as an alternative.

"What's going on?" Emma groans, blonde hair already damp with sweat. The nurses trade her clothes for a gown in record time. "Regina?"

"Just focus on the baby, Ms Swan," Regina insists, and when the nurses move away, she steps up to the side of the bed.

"Call me Emma."

"Emma," Regina concedes. "You're about to do something wonderful. The kindest thing anyone has ever done for me. I don't want to be angry, not now."

"I want you to have your baby," Emma says, through sudden tears. "I don't want to screw it up."

"You can't," Regina assures her. "You won't."

"After, will you tell me why you've all gone crazy?" Emma pleads.

"I have a feeling you'll find out, one way or another," Regina says, nodding sadly. "Now, let's meet my son, shall we?"

BABY BABY

It takes no more than forty minutes, every curse word in the English language, and a couple of German ones that Regina isn't even going to ask about.

In the end, it only takes the first cry.

She loves him, desperately. She loves him more than she's ever loved anything or anyone, and nothing else is ever going to come close, even if she lives another thousand years.

Regina holds Emma's hand the whole time, clammy and grasping and frankly a little too strong, but she doesn't let go even when Emma threatens to actually break some fingers in the process. It's only when the crying bundle, wrapped in a thin blue blanket, comes towards her that Regina even thinks to let go.

"Hello," she says, as the stretching, straining little boy wriggles against her chest. "I'm your Mommy."

"You got a name?" Emma asks, sounding very far away.

"And you're Henry," Regina tells them, tells the world. "You're named for the person I loved most, until this moment."

His face is wiped clean, and Regina can't wait a moment longer. She presses her lips to his tiny forehead, softer than downy cotton, and closes her eyes.

The thunder cracks, and the world as she knows it ends, once and for all.

BABY BABY

Emma has never felt so crappy in her entire life, and that's including the food poisoning/triple hangover combo of Tijuana four years ago.

It doesn't seem to matter as she watches Regina with Henry, sitting in a chair by the bed, looking like they've always been together that way.

Sidney appears at the door, clearing out the nurses with quiet efficiency. When it's just the three of them and the baby, he speaks in an accent Emma has never heard him use before.

"Your Majesty," he says, and Emma's jaw drops at not being able to deny any of this any longer. "I've secured this wing of the hospital. Those loyal to you will stand guard, day and night."

"They'll try to come for me anyway," Regina says sadly. "If anything happens to me-"

"Nothing will," Sidney assures her.

BABY BABY

On the third day, Regina realizes her defenses won't hold. Emma should be terrified, but mostly she relaxes in her comfortable suite and lets her body recover.

"I have to go," Regina says quietly, packing the supplies Sidney brought into a few baby bags. "I can't tell you where, but if you stay here, I think you'll find the family you didn't believe you had."

"The hell I will," Emma says, crossing her arms over her chest. "I've spent my whole life feeling abandoned, unwanted. You think I want to give these people a chance to make excuses? There isn't one."

"But you had so many questions-"

"Curiosity. I just wanted to know. To have someone to blame. No way I'm gonna play happy families with some strangers."

"I'm leaving town," Regina says. "All the money is in your account. I added five thousand for... well, this. If you want more-"

"I don't want your money," Emma sniffs. "You ever been out of this town before?"

"No," Regina admits. "But I suppose I'll learn."

"You need a guide," Emma decides, getting out of bed quite carefully, but already in far better shape. "And I just nominated me."

"If you leave, they can't come after you," Regina admits. "The curse may be broken, but we were never intended to mix with this world."

"I can always come back if I change my mind," Emma says. "Besides, you're gonna need help with Henzo."

"His name is Henry," Regina snaps.

"Every cool kid gets a nickname," Emma points out. "But fine, you're gonna need help with the kid. And I'm a master at surviving on the road. You know, when there are no organic vegetables and you need to buy whatever brand of diapers they sell in a gas station."

"You can't be serious," Regina sighs. "I won't stop you leaving."

"I'm coming with you," Emma decides. "Ever since I found out you're the Evil Queen-sorry, a Queen-I've decided what you need most is someone to stand up to you. Someone will have to teach the kid that."

"And what about us? That thing that kept happening before?"

"I've decided to forgive you for being a bitch," Emma says, with a shrug. "So you can forgive me for being a bit of a con artist, can't you?"

"Why would you want this?" Regina demands, packing the last of the baby clothes into a bright pink bag. "You're supposed to be starting your life over. You're supposed to be bounty hunting your family."

"This looks like a fresh start to me," Emma murmurs. "And maybe I don't need my old family. Maybe I've been looking for a new one."

"I have no intention of being hurt again-"

"I won't hurt you. And if I do? Kick my ass to the curb. You're no worse off than you are right now. But I think we make a pretty good team," Emma runs it all off before she can chicken out. "And before you sex was something where I closed my eyes and waited for it to be over. With you I only want it to end so we can start all over again."

"Three days after giving birth and you're already horny?" Regina sputters in disbelief.

"Yeah, and it's weeks 'til I can do anything about it," Emma groans. "That kid and his stupid big head have got a lot to answer for."

"His head is perfectly normal!" Regina protests, but Emma is already in motion, shoving things into her backpack.

"Your Majesty!" Sidney bursts into the room. "I've found a vehicle and packed everything on the list."

"Your things," Regina says to Emma. "See? You can't come."

"Due respect, ma'am, Ms Swan already asked me to include her belongings," Sidney says, staring at the floor like he's awaiting punishment. Instead, Regina rolls her eyes and picks Henry out of his crib.

"You really want to come with me?" Regina asks, one last time.

"I really do," Emma replies, pulling on clean sweatpants and a hoodie.

"Well," Regina sighs, accepting her fate and for once not feeling horrible about it. "Let's go."

BABY BABY

They leave town just after midnight in Sidney's donated BMW. Henry cries all the way to the town limits, and settles the minute they pass the 'You Are Now Leaving Storybrooke' sign. Regina watches him calm in the rearview mirror, glancing back and forth between the mirror and the road in front.

Beside Henry, Emma sleeps soundly, curled up in a protective ball on the backseat.

She'll leave one day, Regina knows. The lure of the lost family too great, the ordeal of living with Regina too insufferable. She's learned to expect the sting of disappointment lurking in every moment of happiness, but with Henry in her life all these trials seem bearable. A child's love, as Regina knows to her cost, is so deep and unconditional. She'll bear any burden to see the day he first calls her 'Mama', to hold his hands through the first stumbling steps.

Henry fusses a little as they cross the New Hampshire state line, and just as Regina is looking for an exit off I-95 to attend to him, Emma stirs and places a soothing hand on his tummy, rubbing gentle circles until he calms. She opens her eyes long enough to smile at Regina in the rearview mirror, and Regina feels her breath catch in her throat, at the possibility, at the very existence of a 'maybe' right now.

"Where to?" Regina whispers, mindful of the sleeping baby.

"Anywhere you like," Emma murmurs.

EPILOGUE

They return on a spring day, the morning of Henry's second birthday.

An armed guard escorts them from the town line to the Town Hall, and Emma feels the sweat trickling down her spine while Regina fakes calmness by bouncing Henry on her knee.

"You think this is how Kate and Wills feel?" Emma asks, desperate to break the silence.

"Who?" Regina asks, as uninterested by Emma's television and gossip magazine as ever.

"Never mind," Emma sighs, but she pats Regina's thigh to remind her it's not that important. "I'm finally going to meet my parents. I don't even know who my father is."

"He was in a coma," Regina admits. "One meal with him and you'll be pleading for me to put him back in one."

"You promised to play nice," Emma warns.

"Yeah," Henry nods enthusiastically. "Nice!"

"Yes, Henry," Regina mutters, but one look at her son and she's smiling again.

"You tell 'er, Henzo," Emma mocks, and Regina nudges her with a very pointed elbow.

"Did you really think we'd make it this far?" Regina asks, turning away from Emma in case she can't bear the answer.

"Yeah," Emma confesses. "I don't know how, but I did. And if we can make this part right, if we can find some kind of peace, then we'll finally be free. What's not to love about that, huh?"

"You're impossible," Regina groans. "How did I end up in love with an optimistic idiot like you?"

"Hey, don't blame me," Emma reminds her. "I was a cynic and a crook until I met you. You made me this way, lady. So you got nobody to blame but yourself."

"We could blame Henry instead?" Regina offers, a wicked smile flickering over her lips. "He's too young to know any better."

"Henry, this is all your fault," Emma tells him, mockingly stern.

"'enry," the kid repeats, pulling Emma's hair with strong little hands.

She looks at Regina in exasperation, but Regina only laughs.

The car rolls to a stop, and Emma sees her former friend standing with a strange man's arm around her shoulders. She's ready, at long last.

Outside the car stands a family she might want, and she might not. But with Regina and Henry in her life, she no longer needs a family, won't accept anything just because the DNA says she should.

"Okay," Emma says, breathing hard through her nose. "Let's go meet the parents."