The feud between Regina and everyone who wasn't Henry had entered détente, like the US and Russia, or vegans and seafood. After helping banish Cora, saving Granny from a curse, and not having anything to do with Gold burning down the department store, her popularity was at an all-time high. Which was why she wasn't stoned in the streets when she started handing out fliers for her Christmas party.

But Storybrooke came around. She had the only house in town big enough to take a celebration from House Party to House Party 4: Da Party Goes Inta Orbit! Henry had also promised there'd be free food. And Emma, roped into it by Henry, had promised free booze. In turn, the Charmings (roped in by Emma) had promised they would be there, along with the mistletoe, appealing to everyone but Foody the Asexual Dwarf.

Regina, for her part, had assured everyone she wouldn't use apples in her cooking.

Though the guests wore a variety of body armor and protective charms, it was a successful party. Regina was kept busy making refreshments, which she had always enjoyed, and which meant she didn't have to socialize much. Both sides were happy with that, though Henry wasn't.

"It's your party, they have to be nice to you! You paid for the drinks!"

Regina buzzed around the kitchen, following some arcane ritual for which chips went in which serving bowl. "Beer doesn't make up for cursing people for thirty years. Not American beer, at any rate."

"But it's Christmas."

On occasion, Regina could be even more obstinate than Henry, just not as childishly. "It wasn't my idea to have a party. I wanted to stay in and watch a Christmas movie with you. I was even willing to rent Die Hard, despite its R rating."

Henry heaved a sigh. She had to rub it in. Everyone said Die Hard was a classic, but even Emma wouldn't let him watch it. Emma was willing to go scream for scream with Regina, but not over a movie, even a Bruce Willis movie.

Wait, that was it!

Emma showed up next in Regina's kitchen, wearing an abbreviated Santa suit that Regina privately thought of as ill-advised. One of those red minidresses with white trim that, if Mrs. Claus did wear it, put her way out of a fat old elf's league. It showed off a bit much of the only charms Emma seemed to possess.

"C'mon, your highness, everyone's singing Christmas carols. Now, I didn't curse anyone and I have to do it, so you're definitely in."

"You're going to lecture me on the joy of consequences?"

Emma felt the headache that was Regina's tag-team partner jump into the ring. "Is there anything alcoholic in this kitchen?"

"The eggnog has beer in it."

Emma poured herself a glass of nog and sipped it, promising herself she'd go easy. (Eggnog count: 1).

"Well, it would've made Henry happy, so I'm not surprised."

"I'm sorry, you must've picked up some slang in prison I don't understand; what were you implying?"

"Just that, in the past, when there's been a choice between Henry's well-being and, say, continuing your blood feud against a six-year-old…"

Regina's eyes narrowed. Her nostrils flared. She stared at Emma like a wrestler about to challenge the world champion to a cage match at the next pay-per-view. Then something funny happened.

Regina faltered. Her breathing slowed to a near stop, her eyes lost focus, and she bit her lip instead of saying something about Emma having premarital sex. She actually looked vulnerable, and Emma actually felt mean for sassing her.

The ex-mayor recovered quickly. "I'll lip-sync. I won't sing."

Regina made it through Carol of the Bells and Deck The Halls, but Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer was enough to make her tap. The half-empty punch bowl was too much of a temptation. She went to refill it and at a look from Henry, Emma went to corral her.

"Regina, wait—" She grabbed Regina's arm in the doorway, right under the mistletoe. Emma didn't notice until Regina looked up.

"Don't even think about it."

Emma let go of her arm. "We're about to open presents. Stay that long, at least. We got you something."

The stare Regina gave her now was downright confused. It took a moment to harden. "We need more punch. Stop trying to be nice to me."

She left Emma stewing. "Or what, they'll kick you out of the Legion of Doom?"

She looked to Henry, who gave her puppy dog eyes from across the room. Fine. Emma stalked into the kitchen and hopped up on the counter. She didn't look at Regina. She looked at the glass of eggnog she was pouring herself. (Eggnog Count: 2)

"You have two minutes to get that punch bowl full and come back to the party. Or I tell you what David and Mary-Margaret did on Valentine's Day."

"You expect me to believe you would use your parents' love against me?"

"First, David hid a bunch of paper hearts around town and sent Mary-Margaret on a scavenger hunt. Each one had a love poem on it. The first one went like this—"

Regina slammed the punch bowl down hard enough for a lake to slosh over the side. "Fine! If you're so determined to torment me that you want me at a party where I'm clearly not welcome, then fine. I surrender."

"Who said they didn't want you at the party?" Emma asked. That was all she needed, someone antagonizing the Wicked Witch.

"You don't have to say it. I know." Regina had grabbed a towel and was rubbing at the spill like it was graffiti of an obscene word. "You and Snow White, you always play the innocent, but you know exactly what you're doing. It's Christmas, so you extend an olive branch and pat yourselves on the back for what good people that makes you. And tomorrow, you'll shut me out again without a second thought."

"How would you know? You never give us a chance."

"I did! When you and Snow were gone, I did everything I could to support David. I even let him have Henry. And just when my son started looking at me without wincing, you came back. And not one hour later, your big happy family was having dinner without me."

Emma was almost speechless. That? Regina was upset over that? "You didn't ask to come."

"I shouldn't have to! Dopey doesn't ask to come to dinner!"

Emma took a deep, deep breath. "Regina, would you like to come to our Christmas party? We'd all really like it if you showed. And I got you a present. Henry got you a present, I helped pay for it, so don't set it on fire, okay?"

Regina rolled her eyes. "I don't set things on fire."

Regina opened her present slowly, clearly bracing herself to hate it. At least she came off authentically surprised when it ended up being a stylish handbag, exactly the kind of thing she loved toting around town. "Thank you, Henry, I love it."

"Thank Emma, she picked it out."

"I just… thought it looked like something you might wear. He came up with the idea of getting you a purse."

Still grinning as if she were unsure of what to do with the expression, Regina set the purse demurely aside. She wasn't quite blushing, but her ears were red. "I got you something." Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, Regina removed a present from under the tree like she was playing Jenga. She set it in front of Emma. If Emma had been told it was a firebomb and she had thirty seconds to disarm it, she would've looked up at Regina with the same look on her face.

"Open it!" Henry said.

Emma pulled the ribbon. Once it was gone, the wrapping paper opened up like a lotus blossom. Of course.

Inside was a copy of The Complete Idiot's Guide to Raising Kids. "I thought," Regina said weakly, "since we're… raising Henry together, in a way…"

"I get it," Emma said. "Gag gift. Thanks." She picked up a glass of eggnog Grumpy had left on the piano and guzzled. (Eggnog count: 3)

Henry's father couldn't attend; lingering problems with the Curse; but he sent a present through the mail. Henry opened it excitedly; the Curse didn't cover Skype, and over it Neal had promised his gift would make up for at least three missed Christmases.

"Holy crap!" With enough wrapping paper to cloth a small child around Henry, the massive present was revealed—a Nerf Pulse Rifle, with Super Soaker capability, rapid-fire dart launcher, and underbarrel water balloon launch capacity. If WW2 had been fought by children, the Nerf Pulse Rifle would've won it.

"Does that have an attached laser target?" Emma asked.

"It does!"

"Can I see it?" Regina asked. Henry eagerly handed the box to her. She strained a little under the weight. "This seems a little dangerous. Look, there's a choking hazard."

Emma finished another glass of eggnog. (Eggnog Count: 4) "Henry, promise not to chew on it?" He nodded. "We're good."

"Emma," Regina said seriously, in a tone that brooked no disagreement.

"Regina," Emma replied, in a tone that said I have prison tats.

"Emma."

"Regina."

"Emma."

"Regina."

"Fine!" Regina said, already planning the rant she'd go on when Henry shot his eye out. "I have cookies in the oven," she said, making for the door. This time, Henry let her go.

She came back during the first five minutes of A Muppet Christmas Carol, setting a plate of cookies and a pitcher of milk down on the coffin table. "You can have five," she told Henry.

Emma patted the empty couch next to her and Henry. "Saved you a seat."

Regina sat down primly, like she wasn't quite sure what year the cushion had last been cleaned. After a moment, she reached over to put her arm around Henry. Henry was already snuggling into Regina. Her hand landed on Emma's upper arm, but she gave Emma a look saying 'wanna make something of it?'

"M'lady needs some more hot cocoa," David said, standing up with Mary-Margaret's empty mug. "Anyone need anything?"

"More eggnog," Emma said.

(Eggnog count: 5)

Ruby arrived late. Ever since it'd started snowing, she'd spending a lot of time in wolf-form, chasing snowflakes around. As soon as Regina opened the door, she handed her a fruitcake. "Granny made it. Merry Christmas!"

"When I was queen, a regent gave me a fruitcake once. I made him eat nothing but fruitcake for an entire year. By the end, his bowels—"

"Wow, are those real figs?" Emma asked, taking the fruitcake before Regina could continue.

"Yes!" Ruby said, ducking past Regina to join the party.

Regina stood in the doorway, glowering at a snowflake that'd fallen on her nose.

(Eggnog count: 6)

"Has anyone seen—" David spotted Mary-Margaret through the milling crowd of party-goers. "Oh, there you are! I thought you'd ditched me," he joked.

Nearby, Regina clapped her hands to her face. "Oh my goodness! Everyone, Snow White and Prince Charming found each other! Oh, wow! It's so magical, you guys! I'm getting a little misty, does anyone have a Kleenex?"

Emma had a camera in one hand and a glass in the other. "Smile, everyone!" She snapped a picture before anyone could process what Regina had said.

(Eggnog count: 7)

"And here is Henry in drama club," Regina said, pointing to the picture in her Christmas album. "He didn't want to do it, but I just told him that children who are in drama club earn thirty percent more in their future careers, and that if he didn't do it I'd take away his X-Box."

Emma stared holes in a picture of Henry in Peter Pan tights.

(Eggnog count: 8)

It was past ten and people were starting to go home. Archie had brought a mix CD, but for some reason it played Jingle Bell Rock every other song.

Mary-Margaret found Regina stuffing shredded wrapping paper into a garbage bag. If a garbage bag could enjoy such a thing, this one wouldn't be.

"Hey there, Regina. We were about to leave, I just wanted to thank you for the scarf. It's really nice."

"Of course it is. I picked it out."

Mary-Margaret nodded, thinking Regina was still a witch, but at least now she got a scarf out of the deal. "Well, we're having a New Year's Eve Bash on, uhh, New Year's. You should come."

Regina dropped the piece of wrapping paper she was holding. She snatched it out of mid-air a moment later. "Are you expecting someone's going to use magic against you?"

"What? No, no, you won't have to cast any spells. We're just going to watch the movie New Year's Eve."

"Oh, so you just plan on wishing someone had cast an evil spell on you."

"You have something against romantic comedies?"

"Only the ones that aren't comedic or romantic. Do you need me to bring anything?"

Mary-Margaret couldn't quite contain her surprise, which gave everything away to Regina. "You're coming?"

"Well, it gets boring staying home alone, thinking up ways to torment you. That was a joke, by the way."

Mary-Margaret laughed politely. "'By the way', would you keep an eye on Emma? I think she's had a few too many to make it home on her own. We called her a cab, just see that she gets in it."

"Why don't you take her home with you?"

"Let's just say I have yet to give Charming his present." Mary-Margaret winked.

Regina's face turned to stone.

"Yeah," Mary-Margaret nodded, "after tonight, I'm definitely going to be on the naughty list. Snow White's getting her freak on." She turned to leave.

"I-burnt-your-favorite-doll-when-you-were-a-little-girl," Regina said quickly.

"What was that?"

"I didn't say anything."

Mary-Margaret left. Regina went to go find Emma, who was in the party room, working it on the dance floor. Regina wasn't sure what 'it' was, though, and had little desire to find out.

"Okay," Emma slurred while the stereo continued to pump out Jingle Bell Rock—not even a dance remix of it, "this one is really popular outside the Neighborhood of Make Believe. It's called twerking, and to do it, the first thing you do is pop your—"

"Sheriff Swan," Regina interrupted, "can I have a word?"

"Sure thing!" Emma sorta… reverse-moonwalked to Regina, which was impressive in a technical sort of way. "What up, biyatch?"

Regina almost forgot. She'd never been called a 'biyatch' before. She wasn't really sure what it was. "Not much. I just thought you might like to sit down. You've had a lot to drink."

"I already peed, if that's what you're worried about. Your bathroom is ballin', yo."

"Yes. It is. Yo." Regina hoped to Christ she hadn't used the good towels. "Come on. Let's go somewhere more private?"

"Ooh!" Emma grinned. "You tryin' to give me a present?"

"Yes." Called 'not traumatizing your adolescent son.'

"I gotcha," Emma said as Regina led her up the stairs to the bedroom. "Don't want the whole town to know you're a big softie."

"With perceptiveness like that, it's no wonder you're a police officer."

Regina got the door for Emma, who let out a low whistle as she walked in. "I bet you take all the girls here."

"Please. If I were so inclined, I'd focus my attention on Ruby. Her mother is a wolf."

Emma's face screwed up. "And thas better than Mary-margarine… Mary-more-organ… Mary-may-flannel…"

"Sit," Regina said, pulling the cushion off a cot she had by the window.

Emma humped down on it, her butt sinking into the soft mattress. "Whoooooa. Don't tell me. You make gross, sweaty guys sleep here after you 'get what you want' from 'em. Some loooovemaking."

Regina smiled. She knew she was about to freak Emma out. "Henry used to sleep there when he'd had nightmares."

"Oh. Eww! Ewwwww! I thought—oh god! Gross!"

Regina kept smiling. Simple pleasures. "I'll make you some coffee. Nip that hangover in the bud."

"I'm not drunk! I'm tipsy! There's a difference! If I were drunk, could I name all twelve of the Dwarves in The Hobbit?"

Regina walked over to the dresser. "I'd be a little concerned if you could do that sober. Shush, this takes concentration."

"Wha? Are you—are you changing your panties?"

"I am making. Coffee."

"With wha—oh." On top of the dresser was an espresso machine. "Okay, that's cool. I like… hold on… soy latte, half milk—"

"I know what you like," Regina interrupted. "Doesn't the multi-purpose mount I got for your…" She couldn't bring herself to call it a car, "vehicle prove that?"

"I guess. How come you're so good at getting presents for people? I think even Grumpy liked that sweater you got him."

"I don't know. It comes from being queen, I suppose. You get used to reading people. Knowing what they're afraid of. And what they would appreciate. Then you just listen."

"So what am I afraid of?" Emma asked, leaning forward. This should be good.

"People leaving you." Regina finished with the coffee. She turned around, presenting the mug and letting the smell waft over to Emma for her approval. "Maybe that's why things between us get so… spirited. I'm the one person you're stuck with, come hell or high water."

"I'm not stuck with Mary-Margaret? Or David?"

Emma wasn't taking the coffee, so Regina took her hand and curved it around the mug, making sure she had a firm grip on it. "You've made do without them before. You could walk away."

"If you tell me I could walk away from Henry, I'm throwing this coffee in your face."

"No. You couldn't. But that's different."

"How?"

"He can't leave you. You're his mother." Regina forced a smile. "No wonder you're so single-minded when it comes to him."

"Because abandonment issues?"

"Drink your coffee," Regina told her. "It's getting cold."

Emma drank. Held her face still as she swallowed it in a drunken parody of solemnity.

"I know it's good. You don't have to tell me," Regina said.

"So, we, like… share Henry?" Apparently Emma would rather have that conversation then compliment Regina's coffee.

"That's one way of putting it."

"It's like he… handcuffs us together. That jerk."

"Keep drinking. I think you're going to need a second cup."

"No, no, this makes perfect sense! It's like we're divorced, right, and he makes us all… Kramer Vs. Kramer." Emma stared off into the distance, sipping her coffee slowly, some vastly important thought occurring to her. "Thorin, Balin, Dwalin, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Dwalin, Fili, Kili, Gloin, Oin, Dori, Nori, Ori."

"You said Dwalin twice."

"Fuck you." Emma pointed at Regina. "See, you're… you're like the mommy. You want Henry to be all safe and well-adjusted and have a job where he wears a tie. And I'm the dad. I want Henry to be cool and start calling himself Hank and get badass scars and go to work on a motorcycle! Do I have something on my face?"

Regina was looking at Emma very hard. "No. I was just thinking to myself that you're the mother of my child."

Emma laughed. "You know what your real problem is? It's just… you need to embrace your momness. Stop trying to be wonder-parent. Like this crotch… this cot. It's bullshit. Your kid has a nightmare and you make him sleep in a doggy bed? Why can't he sleep next to you?"

"Studies show that two percent of children who sleep with a parent end up with a thirteen percent…"

Emma waved her hand in the air. "Stop, stop! God! It's like talking to a Dr. Laura column. Jus'… be nice. You're making it up as you go along, I get that, it's cool, we all are. Henry's not IKEA furniture. He's not going to turn out perfect if you follow some manual."

Regina stared at Emma, who drank her coffee like a complete innocent. "Is that what you're doing with me? Making it up as you go along. 'Being nice.'"

"Huh?"

"Did you tell your mother to invite me over for New Year's?"

"I might've. Mentioned you would like to come. Clearly we can't keep posting nasty things about each other online."

"I never posted anything nasty about you online," Regina said.

"My point exactly! One of us has to be the mature one." Emma burped. It was the kind that made Regina want to check that her picture frames were straight afterward. "Hey, wanna hear something weird?"

"Why end the streak?"

"I heard my parents talking. Mary-Margaret and David. They're thinking of having another kid. Since they didn't get to see me grow up. They're trying all over again." Emma smiled, but it was particularly drunken, seeming to float an inch or two off her face. "Isn't that just sweet?"

"Sorry."

"No, you're not."

"I am. I know what it's like to have parents who aren't… don't… who want different things from you than what you give them."

"Yeah, sure."

Regina thought about sticking to her story about being good at gift-giving because she was such a nice queen. The hell with it. No one believed her anyway. "I got very good at knowing exactly what my mother wanted to hear… exactly what would make her happy. Oh, and your grandfather. The king. I had to give him what he wanted too. Being Queen… that was when all I cared about was what I wanted."

Emma got up. It was a cumbersome process. Her ass was embedded in the mattress and there was very little to grab on for support, and she was still holding the coffee cup, which sloshed espresso on the floor to Regina's endless winces—"Careful now," she said—before finally Emma made it out, bent over like she was touching her toes. She set the mug down on the floor like that was what she'd been going for all along, then straightened. Fixing Regina with a stare, she walked up to her, towering above the woman sitting on the bed.

"What do you want, Regina?" Emma asked.

Regina closed her eyes. She couldn't remember the last time someone had asked. At least, not in a 'what do you want to let my family go?' sort of way. "I'm not sure. I kept… taking things, and nothing made me happy. Not even Henry. Of course, I suppose I never had him in the first place." Regina stood up, feeling a sudden need to eat something, drink something, busy her body with something, but Emma just stood there, right in front of her.

"You want what I want," Emma said.

Not alone, together. Regina demurred "It's as good a guess as any. Lucky for me I'm stuck with you."

"Yeah."

Emma kissed her then.

Regina flopped backward on the bed before coming to her senses and scrambling up to a sit, trying to stand up before she remembered Emma was still in the way. Getting to her feet would put her back in kissing range. "What was that? Was that tongue?"

"You owed me a kiss." Emma pointed upward. "Mistletoe."

"What are you—oh. I get it. Very funny." Regina tried standing again. Emma grabbed her by the collar, helping her up, but only to kiss her again.

Does good kissing run in the family? Regina wondered, thinking of her endless unspoken jealousy toward Snow and Charming before thinking to give Emma a shove. "Quit that!"

"What's wrong, baby?" Emma rocked back. "Is it the Santa costume? I can take it off."

"It's not the Santa thing!"

"Good, I was wearing it to the orphanage, the kids love it." Deciding that was settled, Emma grabbed Regina again and kissed her again.

The hell of it was, Emma seemed to be getting better at it. Regina pulled away, sputtering. "Why are you kissing me?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Emma asked, starting to take off the costume despite Regina's non-objection to it. "You're mommy. I'm daddy. I think it's time we make a baby. It'll save our marriage."

Regina blinked very steadily. "The mistletoe… you didn't smoke it, by any chance?"

"I know, a baby at your age, it sounds crazy…"

"My age?"

"But trust me, they did on Gilmore Girls, she was way older than you." Emma gave herself a wiggle and she wasn't wearing a dress anymore. Just a bra and panties. Red and green. Some people had way too much Christmas spirit. "Do you want to rip these off me or should I show you my moves? I used to dance in college, and I don't mean the polka." Emma raised a confidential hand to her mouth. "I took off my clothes for money."

"As fascinating…" Emma pushed Regina down onto the bed. The former mayor managed to land on her butt instead of her back, sitting there very primly, but then Emma backed onto her lap and started… undulating. From where Regina was sitting, it was a very interesting perspective. "As fascinating as that is, I think you should—" Emma whipped around, straddling Regina's lap now and shoving some key aspects of her anatomy in Regina's face. Given the fur lining on Emma's bra, it made Regina want to sneeze more than anything else. "I think you should put some clothes on—" Emma took her bra off. Regina didn't feel like sneezing anymore. "Or not. No, no, you should definitely—stop—being naked. Right this moment!"

"C'mon, Reggie. All that trouble to have a kid and you never thought of getting one the old-fashioned way?"

"You don't even have a penis. Wait, you don't, do you?" For one shining moment, the majority of Emma Swan's behavior made sense.

"I don't have a penis, 'Madame Mayor.' I can improvise." Reaching behind her back, she pulled out one of those big candy canes that looked like they could only be hung off a redwood tree. She brought the bottom to her lips, opened her mouth, and proceeded to dispel any rumor of having a gag reflex.

"I don't have a penis either, why is that turning me on?" Regina wondered out loud, vaguely stunned.

Emma slurped her way off the candy cane. Although Regina couldn't speak for the chrome on a trailer hitch, not much of the red stripe on the cane had survived. "Alright. Neither of us have penises. I've had worse starts to sleepovers."

Displaying some impressive multitasking for a woman who was slurring more than an Alabama senator, Emma started kissing Regina's neck and rubbing the wet end of the candy cane under Regina's skirt. Regina felt herself go cross-eyed. She wasn't usually 'so inclined', but Emma was landing herself squarely on the exception list, right next to Olivia Wilde.

"This is so wrong," Regina muttered vainly, as Emma vacuumed Regina's pulse the same way she'd done the candy cane. She was turned on and Emma hadn't even touched her breasts yet. She'd never had a lover wait so long to touch her breasts. "I mean, you… you're… you're drunk!"

"Tipsy," Emma corrected. "I named all the Dwarves."

"You said Dwalin twice!"

Emma started sucking on the other side of Regina's neck. Regina's eyes rolled back in her head. "And… uhh… I hate you? Or something?" Quite understandably, Regina was finding it hard to think at the moment.

"I've slept with people I've hated before. It was really hot."

"Was there spanking?" Regina asked helplessly.

"There was so much spanking…"

"Good god…" If Regina weren't having sex, she'd be running off to the shower to masturbate. "Wait, wait…" Regina pushed her back a little, which just let cool air hit the skin Emma had been so assiduously mouthing. It actually made Regina move toward the shower before remembering she didn't need to masturbate. Or she did, but it would send the wrong message if she did it with Emma in the vicinity. A sexy, sexy message.

While Regina was distracted, Emma's patience lasted its allotted five seconds and she went back to sucking. This time, on Regina's cleavage.

Regina finally realized why Emma had taken so long to touch her breasts. It was so Regina had time to prepare herself.

A few seconds of that, and one discarded bra, and she no longer needed to visit the shower. Emma lifted her head, pleased with herself. She was having sex and ruining some of Regina's panties, so this worked for her on multiple levels. "Sorry, what was that? Reggie?"

"First off, Reggie has the same amount of syllables as Regina, it's not a nickname, you're not saving any time by calling me that."

Emma went back to Regina's breasts. "Keep going," she said between them. "I'm listening."

Regina marshaled all her reasoning. "We simply can't do this. If we do, you'll hate me in the morning."

Emma leaned back as if considering Regina's words. Then, by demonstration, she showed Regina that the candy cane had two ends and one of them was perfect for Emma.

While Regina's jaw was still trying to close, Emma tried Regina's breasts again.

"Then again," Regina said, woozily falling back to the mattress, "you already hate me. And I am evil, after all."

"You're so evil, baby." Emma kissed her. "It's so hot."

She ran the other end of the candy cane up Regina's thigh.

"Sheriff Swan, if I'd known you could do that when you first came to Storybrooke, I think we would've had a much more friendly relationship."

Emma woke up with her lips sticky and something very sweet on her tongue.

Had she been nursing a candy cane when she went to bed?

"And this, Sheriff Swan, is why I have an espresso machine in my bedroom." Regina, wearing a bathrobe that was loosely tied enough for Emma to remember exactly what she'd been doing last night, presented Emma with a cup of coffee. "Merry Christmas, lover."

"Oh God." Emma thought about it. "Oh God!"

"That's funny, you said that so many times last night, one would think you had it out of your system."

Emma shot Regina a death-glare. "Bite me!"

"That too."

Jumping out of bed, Emma sought out her clothes in the world's fastest scavenger hunt. Then realized she was already wearing something.

"What's this?"

"Oh, during round three you asked if you could try on some of my clothes. That's my Halloween costume from four years back. I went as a cowgirl."

Looking at Regina, Emma's eyes were so wide her eyelids might've ceased to exist. "Did we-?"

"Yes."

"And we used the—"

"Oh yeah."

"And I—"

"Several times."

"Even—"

"Even there. I take it that's a no on the coffee?"

Emma shook her head numbly. Regina drank it herself. She and Emma had similar tastes. Also, they liked their coffee the same way.

"Relax," Regina said. "No one saw us together. And I'm certainly not going to tell anyone. Let's just consider it… an anonymous Christmas gift. No strings, no regrets. We just go on as if it never happened."

"Yeah. Okay." Emma started the lengthy process of changing from a cowgirl ("Sheriff Naughty," she recalled) to Mrs. Claus. It was harder than it looked. She had no idea how she'd managed it sloshed and in the dark.

Well, she'd had help, she supposed.

"Just so you know," Emma said, zipping her dress up for the walk of shame. "Having sex with a drunk girl is low, even for you."

"Drunk girl? Oh, right. The eggnog." Regina sipped her coffee. "Well, my recipe does call for spirits, but since I knew the party would have mixed company, I used nonalcoholic beer. Hard to taste the difference, isn't it?"

Emma's brow furrowed. "I, like… sixty-five percent hate you."

"I know. It came up during the spanking."