Emma had insisted they go about their day as normally as they would have any other week, but it seemed that with each passing minute, she was acutely aware that she was one minute closer to having to leave for the airport. She did her morning run as per usual, though she took the extra long route that brought her in and around town, waving to each familiar face that passed her as they greeted the day. She even stopped by the diner, picking up twin coffees and a bear claw, a treat she had become addicted to in her weeks in Storybrooke. She tried to pay for it, but Ruby and her grandmother basically kicked her out of the diner, threatening that would be her last bear claw if she didn't get her butt back home. The usual struggle of getting Henry dressed for the morning was heard as soon as she retreated back to the mansion and closed the door behind her, placing the tray of coffees and a little note to Regina on the kitchen island before heading up to shower in Henry's washroom.
After the quick shower, Emma met both brunettes in the hallway where Henry all but jumped on her, yanking on her arms until she swung him onto her back, using one arm to keep him steady while the other was placed on Regina's lower back as she guided the older woman down the stairs. Though Emma had promised to be chef for the morning, once Emma had settled Henry onto the bar stool, the women set about making a batter for waffles and berries. The blonde grinned when Regina stopped her whisking when she noticed the coffee on the table, grinning at the Good morning beautiful and smiley faced note stuck to the sleeve and leaned over the corner where Emma was slicing up strawberries to kiss her swiftly on the cheeks in thanks.
It was the most domestic Emma had ever felt, sitting around the table having breakfast, her hand finding Regina's every so often in simple reassurance that her presence was there, Henry going on about his dream that seemed to morph into a recap of what had happened on House of Mouse. The trio had been in the department store earlier that week, and upon arriving at the Disney store, Emma had bought Henry the complete series of the TV show. It had been his choice of show for the nights in since the boy was completely enamoured by all his favourite Disney characters mingling under one roof.
But once the dishes were washed and Emma retreated up to her room to grab a sweater for a final day out to the stables, the sight of her packed duffel and rucksack laying on the foot of the bed was enough to break the bubble she built around herself that morning. Swallowing the tightness in her throat that hindered her breathing, she shut the door and sat down with a heavy sigh, taking inventory of the room she had called her own for nearly a month. Granted, lately she had become quite familiar with Regina's bedroom, but here inside the mansion's guest room, Emma began feeling the first remnants of a home.
In the early days of her stay, Regina would wake Emma up from nightmares and the two would sit on her bed, backs to the head board lying side by side, or retreat to the kitchen for tea, or in Emma's case, hot chocolate with cinnamon, and talk about it until dawn.
Some days Henry would help Emma work out, the boy used as a weight or sitting on her bed and counting, usually inconsistently, and sometimes in Spanish as his mother had been teaching him, as she went through her sets.
The first time Regina did Emma's laundry, Emma had found that her clothes were placed in the room's dresser and closet, her duffel and rucksack folded neatly on the top shelf. The intrusion bothered her for about half a second, but her clothes had never smelled that good or felt that soft before, and the care Regina had given them was more than any of the foster parents she had stayed with combined. Emma had kept her clothes in the dressers ever since.
That is until now, with her bags repacked and more filled than they were before arriving. A new sweater was added to her collection, red with grey print emblazoned on the front proclaiming it as Property of Storybrooke Knights, ironically the town's high school's mascot – no wonder Henry had such a fixation. It was Regina's when she went to school, and though Emma had every intention of stealing it as a token of her time (and just because it smelled like Regina), when she found it already folded and packed with her belongings, she figured her desires weren't as inconspicuous as she thought.
She lifted her rucksack and rifled through it, smiling fondly at the letters and pictures she guarded with her life, the beginning of it all, really. The newer photographs were an addition to her bag that she was excited to bring back with her. No longer would her walls around her cot be bare save for a schedule or itinerary of upcoming events. She now had a collection of pictures, her friends immortalized on film to look after her on those nights she'd be away from them.
The few pictures she already possessed of herself, August, and Neal were among the top of the small stack, but as she flipped those to the back, her eyes clouded with moisture as the movie reel of her memory played snippets of each still.
Regina had snuck a picture of Emma and Henry one rainy April day, the third day Emma had been in Storybrooke where Regina had taken the rest of the week off. Emma was holding an umbrella and guiding Henry by the hand down the mayoral pathway, the boy decked out in a blue rain coat, red rain hat, and yellow rain boots, resembling a humanoid version of Paddington Bear. Neither Emma nor Henry were aware of the shot. Henry had been too distracted by the puddles underneath his feet, and Emma had been careful to make sure he was properly shielded from the light shower. Regina had been on the porch when she quickly grabbed her camera to capture the moment.
The first few were of her and Henry with the boy usually stationed on her lap, hugging her around the neck, or one where he was sitting high atop her shoulders. Regina nearly had a heart attack at that one, but when both Emma and Henry promised to be extra careful, Regina relented, allowing their fun. It was their little secret that one time Emma miscalculated the height of the doorway and Henry accidentally bumped his head against the frame.
It started with the picture from Henry's birthday party where Regina began making appearances in the photographs. Emma had taken quite a few pictures with the birthday boy in their matching armour, though Regina had kept those. The older woman, however, made doubles of this particular photo where after Emma had made Regina her own crown, the trio had got their picture taken by the base of the stairs. Henry was on Regina's hip, a toothy grin on his face as he reached to wrap an arm around Emma who had her sword swung across her shoulders. Despite the paper crown and the ribbon trailing down her collar bone, Regina looked every bit the Queen she was teased to be.
Every picture held a story, a memory Emma promised to keep with her forever. Some pictures were as recent as her own birthday party where she was sitting on the couch with Ruby and Tina, or the more comical image of the entire group of guests, apparently slanted and dim save for a red glow around them as they were positioned around the dining room table, grinning at Henry behind the camera who insisted he wanted to try. Regina wasn't surprised to find that Henry had kept his thumb on the lens when she was scrolling through the Canon's library later that night.
Finally she got to the last picture where her heart clenched in her chest. It was just Emma and Regina, taken two days after her party when they were going through the digital camera's library and Regina had noticed they hadn't had one of them alone together.
"Let's fix that," the blond had said before grabbing the Canon and holding it above their heads. Regina had smirked at the gesture but pressed into Emma's side all the same, her head nestled just above Emma's shoulder and settled into the crook of the blonde's neck, both women sporting matching grins.