Winter Party
Emma couldn’t believe she had let herself get dragged into this. Her mother’s classroom assistant had given birth almost four weeks early – mother and baby were fine – and Emma had been Snow’s first port of call for help with her class winter party. With the amount of time off she was taking this December, there seemed to be no way out of it. Exactly a week until Christmas, the fourth grade was going mad with excitement. Twenty-six kids were hopped up on sugar, running riot in a relatively small room. The desks had been moved to one side, and Emma was perched on top observing everything, a bowl of M&Ms by her side.
Snow was having an incredible time with it. She was currently leading Musical Statues at the front of the class, having not long finished up with a Christmas scavenger hunt. Emma’s eye was trained on the clock just above her mother’s head, the minutes inching ever closer to 3pm. Though she had barely listened to Snow’s incessant rambling about the party itinerary, she was sure that all that was left was the White Elephant gift exchange.
She entertained the growing gaggle of eliminated children requesting stories from The Saviour. Of course, not all of her tales were told exactly as they had happened, but she was pretty sure that was her right. Hell, no one exaggerated quite like Henry. The way he spoke of the Underworld put her on the edge of her seat, and she had lived it.
A tiny girl was crowned winner, and Snow directed Emma to collect the sack of presents from behind her desk while everyone else was ushered into a circle. The thing was heavy, and Emma had to practically drag it across the floor. The convent’s toy drive had provided the gifts, at least one for every child in every classroom. Snow had decided that making the gifts part of the Winter party was the best way to dispense them.
Emma had never much cared for the whole White Elephant thing. It was just Secret Santa dressed up with arbitrary rules, and she already hated that. David had wanted to do it for the staff in the Sherriff station but fortunately Mulan had put a stop to that. Mulan was incredible at her job, but Emma would always love her most for squashing that obligation.
She helped Snow lay out the presents neatly on front of the children chattering with rising excitement. “Ok, we have twenty minutes until the bell goes, so let’s not argue or squabble.” She stared intently and a handful of children. “You can choose to unwrap a present or steal one. If your gift gets stolen, you can steal from someone else or pick again. Abigail, you can go first seeing as you won Musical Statues, then go clockwise round. Ok?”
Abigail surveyed the gifts quickly before crawling to snatch the largest one right in the centre. She tore of the paper with gusto. She’d barely shifted back to her spot before the next person stole it from her and she had to pick again. From the look of utter disappointment on her face, Emma worried she might cry, but she pulled herself together and took another present.
Things continued as one might expect. Arguments broke out at more exciting toys being stolen, kids balked at having unwrapped something they couldn’t stand, and others tried to hide things they liked under their shirts so nobody knew what they had picked. A little boy unwrapped a box set of novels, and promptly stuck them in his bag to no-one’s complaint.
Emma was pretty relaxed about the whole thing until the child beside her got his turn. He tore off the wrapping and immediately began kicking his feet with glee. A part of Emma broke at the sight of the gift. He jumped to his feet, holding it tight in his arms the way Little Emma wanted to. “I’m keeping this. Nobody can steal them. All mine!”
Soft laughter lilted across the group, but Emma couldn’t pull her eyes away from it. It was three Beanie Babies, something she had desperately wanted back in the 90’s but had never been given. From what she could see, they looked like they came from the original set, and honestly, they might have done. Sometimes brand new ‘old’ things popped up in Storybrooke stores out of nowhere. Usually, it gave her a good laugh. Today was different. By the time Beanie Babies were a thing, she was considered too old for them. In one relatively lovely group home, all the younger children had been gifted them. Emma had pushed through her disappointment at a makeup set that hadn't interested her, trying to be grateful for having gotten anything at all.
Her upset was stupid, she knew that. Even if it wasn’t unlike her to get a flare of jealousy when she was with kids, she was skilled at pushing down. She was a full-grown adult, after all. It was perhaps to be expected. Over the last few weeks, she’d almost spent more time small than she had as that full-grown adult.
And the little girl wanted to snatch it out of his hands and run with it.
She kept her attention firmly on her feet as the game went on. She thought about Santa promising her presents, the bundle of wrapped gifts already waiting under their tree, the stockings she had chosen with their little trinkets. She didn’t need a beanie baby to complete her Christmas. Regina was doing it already.
The bell rang as the last child was unwrapping her present and – thankfully – she was overjoyed with the hair chalk. As the children packed away their toys, Snow shouted over the bustling noise, “if anyone really isn’t happy with their present, come and see me.” Emma began collecting the paper in a black bag.
“Well, that was a success.” Snow announced as the last child disappeared for the winter break. “I didn’t even need to get out my backup gifts.”
Emma gave her what she hoped was a reassuring smile. Keeping herself in check while she cleared away other children’s fun was not easy, and later she would be impressed at her repeated ability to blink back the growing tears. Soon, she assured herself. Soon she would be at home with Regina getting back to their Christmas.
“At least I know where Storybrooke’s sugar supply went.” Regina drawled.
Emma’s heart did a little flutter at the sound of her partner, though she didn’t turn to her. Snow rolled her eyes as she brushed the pile of wrappers into the bin. “It’s the last day of term. A little sugar every now and then won’t kill them.”
“I’m sure you’ll enjoy the angry emails from parents when they can’t get their kids to sleep.” She plucked a stray chocolate from a desk, unwrapped it, and popped it in her mouth, all the while studying Emma who was trying to make herself as invisible as possible. Regina could see through her unlike anyone else, and it would only take a millisecond of eye contact for her to pick up on her headspace.
“Did you come to help clean up?” Snow asked, chipper but not hopeful.
She scoffed. “No. I was passing by and thought I’d give Emma a ride home.”
Emma’s bug had been put in for a service after breaking down in the middle of the street for the second time in under a week. Her mother pouted. “Oh, I was going to do that. I thought we could get dinner first?”
Emma stared intently at the floor she was still sweeping up. There was no way she could keep herself together for an entire dinner with Snow, but if she tried to say anything right now she would fumble the conversation and made the whole thing worse. It was also somewhat embarrassing just admitting to herself that she had slipped out in public. She had to have better control over herself than this.
“I’ve already prepped our meal.” Regina said somewhat sympathetically but which left no room for disagreement. “And Emma and I have plans. I will be working late on Tuesday, why don’t you spend time together then?”
Emma rolled back her shoulders to summon a little confidence and turned to her mother with a smile. “Yeah, Mom, that’d be nice.”
Now that she could see Snow, it was clear the disappointment must have been radiating from her, but with an alternative she seemed to settle. “Ok. I'll look forward to it.” She nodded to herself. “Thanks for helping, sweetheart. I’ll finish up.”
They said their goodbyes and made their way from the school silently, their hands tightly interlocked. When they were beyond the school doors, Emma slumped against her partner and allowed her to steer them towards the car. She didn’t comment when Regina strapped her in, pressing a kiss to her cheek before moving around to the driver’s seat.
“Would you like to talk about it, dear?” A non-committal grunt, and Emma slouched against the door. She immediately regretted the loss of contact and snaked her hand over to rest against Regina’s outer thigh. The older woman gave the hand a quick squeeze before beginning to drive.
The silence was heavy but not necessarily uncomfortable. Out the window, a light snow was beginning to fall, not enough to lie but enough to engulf them in the wintery atmosphere Emma loved for Christmas. The beanie babies continued to come to mind, the boy’s elated face taunting her. She didn’t get to pick a gift. She never got to pick a gift.
They pulled into the drive and Regina turned to her with a kind expression. She reached across and unclipped Emma’s seatbelt with one hand while tucking her hair gently behind her ear with the other. “How would you like to take the potion and be small all weekend?”
A flicker of a smile crossed Emma’s face. She nodded numbly, then added, “five minutes first?”
“Of course, baby.”
They manoeuvred into the house, leaving shoes and coats in a haphazard pile under the stairs to be dealt with at a later time. Emma collapsed into the couch without a backwards glance, tucking her feet under her and pulling the throw blanket close for a little comfort. Regina disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a couple of sandwiches and some juice. She patted Emma’s knee as she passed, gesturing to the food, “undoubtedly you’ve eaten as much junk as the children. I do not want a sick child.”
The silence stretched again while Emma nibbled on a corner of a sandwich, Regina kneading Emma’s knee with her thumb. Only once it was discarded – with barely half of it eaten – did Regina ask, “how can I help?”
Emma shuffled until she was close enough, then stretched across her like a cat. She pulled her partner’s arms as tight as she could. “Just hugs.”
Regina obliged. She held with as much pressure as was reasonable, peppering kisses along Emma’s hairline. “How’s that?”
A giggle. “Better.”
Though craning her neck was a little painful, Regina rested her chin on Emma’s neck for a beat, pressing their cheeks together. “Good.”