She can hear the ruckus in the kitchen from her room all the way down the hall and she considers getting up and interfering in what by the sounds of it is likely the biggest mess the apartment has ever seen— but her bed is warm and she is tired and content and it feels like there is an invisible cloud holding her captive in such an impossibly good way. And the smell is shockingly heavenly.

"No… Killian— Oh!" there's another crash and scarcely contained laughter fills the whole apartment and she is so happy listening to them.

"Where is the… paddle contraption?" Killian asks, and he's trying to be quiet but failing oh so miserably. Then Henry snorts and she can just see the playful disapproval on her sons face. Her hand absentmindedly drifts to her stomach, rubbing gentle circles.

"What is that even supposed to be?" Henry asks with another, louder snort.

Killian scoffs, "A flower!" he answers indignantly, and now Henry's laughter is beyond control.

"Where are the petals?" he manages breathlessly, and another little gasp says that they're most definitely engaging in some sort of altercation now.

"Just plate the bloody things and take it to your mother, you imp," Killian's voice finally commands good naturedly, and softer sounds ensue, followed by the gentle patter of feet down the hall.

"You got the door?" Henry whispers from the other side of the wall, and Emma lets her eyes drift closed, pulling her covers to her nose and giving her very best impression of sleep as her door creaks open.

"Mom?" a soft hand on her shoulder and the wonderful, wonderful sweet smell of food is under her nose, and she lets her eyes flutter open.

Her heart swells as she takes in her boys, Henry balancing a heaping tray of fruit and misshapen pancakes, Killian coveting a tall mug of what must be cocoa.

"Mmm," she greets, sitting up carefully and reaching to muss Henry's hair. "Breakfast, huh?" she glanced over him at Killian, who is bouncing in that horribly excited way, back and forth on the balls of his feet. Henry sets the tray cautiously on her nightstand, and then throws his arms around her.

"Happy mothers day, mom!" she smiles into his hair, kissing him softly.

"Thanks, kid," she says softly, then glances again into Killian's sparkling eyes, "Thanks Killian."

"Of course, love," he scoffs, as if she should've expected no less. "Surprises are my specialty," he adds with a smug smirk.

"Mmm," she hums, running her fingers along Henry's back as he's settled in bed beside her. She allows a soft grin to tug at her lips, to see just how crazy she can drive him. His eyes narrow.

"Something you wish to say?" he asks suspiciously.

"Mhm," she nods, and his eyes narrow further, bearing into her. Her hand shifts back to her stomach, and his eyes follow and widen with realization, almost comically.

"Are you—" his voice trails off, but the utter hope in his wide blue eyes makes her heart flutter.

She nods once and every ounce of tension leaves his face, eyes glistening as he falls to her and pulls her to his lips.

"Okay, ew," Henry interrupts and it takes everything to stop kissing Killian, to glance at her son. He's confused, and looks minorly violated.

"Henry…" she says, and now it's his eyes searching hers and she struggles to contain the smile tugging at her lips, "I'm pregnant."

His face splits into a grin and he throws his arms around her again, before abruptly pulling back and looking at her hesitantly.

"I didn't mean to hug you so hard, I'm sorry," he says, concern evident on his face, and she giggles at his worry and glances again at Killian, who is clearly just as awestruck as before, watching her with a look of such pure love that she doesn't recall ever being on the receiving end of.

She is so happy.

"You can hug me as hard as you want kid."