Disclaimer: I don't own OUAT or Hoarders. Yes, I did spend an entire day marathoning Hoarders and my house has never been cleaner. Will be multiple chapters.

"You're really fine with me going camping with Ruby and the girls all weekend?" Emma asked tentatively as she shoved a couple clean shirts into her already over-stuffed bag. "'Cause I don't have to go. Or you could come. They said it was fine; no hard feelings about past heart theft or asylum sentences, really."

"Go, Emma," Regina ordered, palm held upwards in a silent offer to take the smaller of the two bags at the savior's feet. "I have no desire to sleep on the dirt and watch Miss Lucas attempt to light herself on fire for the sake of s'mores."

"You'd have fun," the blonde protested. One weekend away with the girls was all well and good, but an entire weekend alone with the girls and her girlfriend? Priceless. "My tent is big enough for two; Ruby won't mind bunking with Belle. We can go hiking, and fishing, and swimming in the pond-"

The mayor glared at the younger woman, quietly contemplating the extent of their six month relationship in relation to all of the things Emma had seemingly forgotten about her in the span of five minutes. "I don't hike, dear, and fishing is something best left to professionals if you'd rather eat sometime over the weekend. And swimming-" Regina shuddered at the very thought of willingly subjecting one toe, let alone her entire body, to the no-doubt leech infested waters of Storybrooke's one and only pond in the middle of the woods. "Well, there are certain luxuries I've grown accustomed to in this world, and filtered water is one of them."

"I'm going to miss you."

"It's two days. I'm sure you can survive the weekend without me. But if you're unsure, you could always call Archie and see if he has an available session before you leave to discuss your co-dependency issues."

"You're going to miss me," Emma tried. "All alone in this big empty house of yours with no one to talk to. C'mon, Regina! Even Henry managed to find something to do this weekend. You can't tell me you actually want to spend the time alone."

Regina shrugged. "Hoarders is running a marathon this weekend. I could catch up on the episodes while you're off playing Tarzan in the woods."

Really? An entire weekend of a germophobic Regina watching a show about people with incredibly filthy and cluttered houses? Emma smirked. She wouldn't be the only one on Archie's couch come Monday morning bemoaning other people's troubles. "I wouldn't really be Tarzan without my Jane, would I? And Hoarders, Regina? You'd have an anxiety attack ten minutes into the episode at the sight of those houses, Miss-Remove-Your-Filthy-Socks-From-The-Sanctity-Of -My-Newly-Polished-Floors. You freaked out last week when I wore my boots upstairs and left them at the foot of the bed."

"There's a shoe rack for a reason, Emma. Besides, Archie said it might be good for me to expose myself to situations out of my control."

"That's me," Emma replied flatly. She was the situation out of the former Evil Queen's control, with her boots well away from the assigned shoe rack, propensity to sleep in well past noon on any given day, and general acceptance of everything guaranteed to grate on the brunette's nerves. "I'm your out of control thing, not some t.v show that's going to drive you crazy. Hell, you still reorganize Henry's comic books according to name, episode number, and- I'm pretty sure you color-coded some of them."

"There's nothing wrong with being well-organized, dear, which is something you might want to consider." She looked pointedly to the duffel bag complete with straining zipper that threatened to burst. "You might find that your bags close easier when you fold your clothes rather than shove them in without care."

The bag was fine; well, it would probably survive the trip into the woods without busting. "See? That's why I need you to come this weekend." Emma took a page from Henry's book and grinned in that special way of his that manipulated his mothers so easily. Big blue eyes widened, chin tucked down, eyelashes batted.

"Stop that. You look ridiculous."

"Adorable," the blonde countered.

"Like a giant, annoying Chihuahua."

"It's working, isn't it?" Emma blinked. She didn't know how the kid did it without straining his eyes. "You wanna go camping with me. Admit it. The thought of staying in this huge house is driving you crazy when you could spend the weekend with me-"

"Sleeping on the dirt and watching you try to catch dinner with your bare hands? Hardly."

"We have fishing poles! And hotdogs. Oh, and Granny promised to send some of her potato salad." In a move she would later regret, Emma scooted forward and wrapped her arms around her girlfriend, burrowing her head into the dark hair skirting the other woman's shoulder. "It's ten minutes from the house, 'Gina. All I'm asking for is one night, that's it. If you hate it, you can drive back home in the morning and spend the rest of the weekend watching whatever you want."

"I'm not sleeping on the dirt," Regina relented.

Emma grinned. "I have an air mattress, your Majesty, and sleeping bags. So, you'll go?"

"What do I get out of it?"

"Besides an entire weekend with me? Uninterrupted time." The kid was adorable and all but he really had the worst timing Emma had ever encountered in another person. Two weeks after the sheriff moved in, she had to have the awkward conversation with the eleven year old about how it was no longer appropriate to burst into his mother's room at all hours of the night. Instead, he stood outside her door in the middle of night after waking from a nightmare pounding on the door until he was granted admittance. It was a lesson they all were glad to have learned.

That, and parental controls on the computer were a parent's best friend.

"One night," Regina repeated warily.

"One night camping. If you hate it, I will personally drive you back to flushing toilets and microwaved food and weekend t.v. marathons."