Pulling her nightgown closed, Regina stalked down the steps, over to the front door, and threw it open to find Mary-Margaret Blanchard, nee Snow White, on her doorstep. Despite the truce between them, there was only so peaceable she could be in the AM. "It is five o'clock in the morning, Snow. You are aware of that? We literally have a giant clock-shaped building in this town for exactly that reason."

"I know the time, Regina. Are you busy or not?"

"Only getting the eight hours of sleep that every human being needs to function. But please, don't let that deter you. In, in," Regina said, more out of a desire not to be seen talking with Snow White than anything else.

Awkwardly waddling forward, Mary-Margaret maneuvered the bulk of her pregnancy onto the foyer's sofa. In her not-so-concealing coat, she looked not unlike a duck trying to walk around with a basketball tucked under its chin. Regina smiled sweetly at her.

"If I'd known your pregnancies were this entertaining, the only spell I would've cast on you would be a fertility charm. Having five or six Emmas running around would be a small price to pay."

Mary-Margaret huffed. "I hope you appreciate that I am not conversationally sinking to your level."

"And I hope you appreciate that there's no way of knowing that's Charming's baby." Regina trained her eyes on a very occupied womb. "Maybe you had a one night stand with an ogre."

"Not funny."

"You're right. I shouldn't imply ogres are so promiscuous." Regina stifled a yawn. "What do you need, Mary-Margaret? If it's fashion advice, I'm sorry, but I'm not a miracle worker."

"I have a question about magic," Mary-Margaret said seriously. "The memory spell you cast on Emma."

Regina's lips curled in distaste. She wasn't a fan of Emma being able to remember her and not Henry. "What about it?"

"She has a lifetime of false memories, Regina. Even if she knows they're not real, is there any way they might be—influencing her behavior?"

"Clearly not, since she's the same… 'swan princess' as ever." Regina was awake enough now to cast a spell conjuring herself a cup of coffee. She drank greedily. "I don't know where she gets it from. She's more manly than Charming. And speaking as someone who's slept with your father, clearly she doesn't get it from your side of the family."

Mary-Margaret pouted menacingly. "I've noticed her acting strangely. Maybe you've just been too busy coming up with new insults to see it."

"No, they just come to me." Another sip and Regina let out a crisp exhale of satisfaction. "Acting strangely how?"

"Well, the other day—"

"Hey Mary-Margaret—" Emma called, followed by, "—ginormous fetus relying on Mary-Margaret for sustenance. Me and Henry are starting season six of Xena. It's a little complicated, but not that hard to catch up. You just need to know that Gabrielle is Queen of the Amazons—"

Mary-Margaret looked up from her belly (She doesn't mean that. You're just the right size for a fetus.) to Emma. "You're watching Xena?"

"Yeah, I decided Henry was old enough to watch it last year, me and him have been Netflixing it on and off ever since. Probably splurge on the whole series if they ever put it on Blu-Ray."

Mary-Margaret blinked. "You're a big… Xena fan?"

"Yeah, of course. Who doesn't like Xena?"

Mary-Margaret looked askew. "Straight people?"

Emma snorted a laugh. "C'mon, I'm making caramel popcorn."

"Your daughter watches Xena: Warrior Princess." Regina nodded thoughtfully. "Yes. Quite a change from her usual taste in French New Wave cinema."

"It's more than that," Mary-Margaret insisted. "You know Emma likes sports?"

"I recall that my son did not care for either pro wrestling or monster truck rallies until she came to town."

"Well, just last week—"

The kitchen sweltered with a steady output of snack foods. Emma was working the microwave in earnest, frying one platter just as another finished. Nachos, bean dip, and pigs in a blanket were already steaming on the island. Now Emma was stuffing jalapenos like a madwoman.

Mary-Margaret and David came home to find their living room possessed by the spirit of Guy Fieri.

"Awesome, guys, you're just in time!" Emma popped glasses of lager in their hands. "Sit, sit, game's about to start."

"Game? What game? It's Thursday."

"I'm a man," David declared. "I know when there's a game on." He sniffed the air. "Nothing but a volleyball match on ESPN4."

Emma virtually coughed in exasperation. "The WNBA game? Houston Comets vs. L.A. Sparks? It's gonna be a barnburner."

"WNBA?" Mary-Margaret repeated. "Isn't that like—" She paused as Emma shoved her down beside Henry, who held a small Sparks pendant in one hand. "Basketball with women?"

Dropped down beside her, David's brow assumed a thoughtful aspect. "Good question, Snow. On the one hand, yes, the game the WNBA plays does involve the object of the basketball. On the other hand, is it really basketball without dunking?"

Henry reached across Mary-Margaret to poke him in the ribs. "They have a great grasp of the fundamentals."

Emma nodded. "You tell 'im, Henry."

Mary-Margaret concluded her story. "No dunking, Regina. It was like watching white men play."

Regina stroked her chin. "I'm seeing a pattern emerge here. Anything else?"

"Well, she does have a Tumblr account now."

"I see." Regina briskly slapped her knees. "She's a lesbian."


"You were right to be concerned. She is absolutely having sex with women. It's the only possible explanation."

Mary-Margaret tried to stand up in shock, but pregnant as she was, she would've had to have been a weightlifter to pull that off. Instead, she sort of mamboed in shock. "My daughter is not a lesbian. She has a boyfriend! She has two boyfriends! And a monkey! A boy-monkey!"

"I'm sorry, Snow. But she's only going to get gayer over time. She think she's a lesbian now? There's a new Captain America movie coming out with Black Widow in it. Scarlet Johansson, leather catsuit, guns, barking orders? All we can do now is give her support. And flannel. Lots of flannel."

Mary-Margaret tried standing again, and this time managed it, though she looked quite a lot like one of those toy birds that drank water. "What did you do, Mills?"

Regina put an affronted hand to her chest. For her, the only thing easier than playing innocent was putting a hand on her chest. "Why is everything always my fault?"

"Because Rumpelstiltskin's dead."

"Good point. Alright, I gave your daughter a bunch of memories of sleeping with women."


"Do you have any idea what it's like to be a bisexual woman and see someone that butch insisting she's heterosexual? I haven't seen such a waste of potential since Michael Jordan tried to play baseball."

Mary-Margaret let loose an offended gasp.

"In my defense, I laughed about it a lot. And honestly, how well was heterosexuality working out for her? She dated a monkey. A monkey, Snow. Do you want her to date someone who's five rungs behind her on the evolutionary ladder?"

"It seems to be working fine for Charlize Theron and Sean Penn!" Mary-Margaret snapped back at her.

Regina sighed. "Alright, alright, let's just calm down. They're only memories. All they're doing is helping Emma come to terms with who she has always been. If she weren't some kind of gay already, all she would do is chalk those memories up to teenage experimentation. And college experimentation. And thirty-something experimentation."

"Did you give her any memories where she wasn't banging some bimbo?"

Regina shrugged. "PTA meetings?"

Mary-Margaret crossed her arms and paced, though not for long, lest she be tempted to sit again. "My daughter's gay. Fine. Fine. At least she gave me a grandchild before she realized it. I'd better go tell David. And apologize to him for thinking he recorded that Victoria's Secret special on our DVR."

Regina waved goodbye. "Always a pleasure, Snow. I'll see if I can find a list of half-orc baby names to e-mail you."

Mary-Margaret huffed her way out the door. Then Regina went upstairs, took off her nightgown, and climbed back into bed with Emma.

"Who was that?" Emma asked, buried in her pillow, half-asleep, and still inquisitive.

"Your mother. I came out to her for you."


"Yes. Remember all those sordid sexual encounters you told me about? From now on, pretend they were fake memories I gave you. Mary-Margaret's happiest when she gets to blame things on me."

"Okay," Emma yawned. "Cuddle now."

Looking around furtively, Regina obediently became Emma's little spoon. But only because she'd already fireballed someone that month, so no one would think she was some kind of… sub.

Graceful as ever, Emma got comfortable by headbutting the back of Regina's neck. "Taking Henry to the zoo tomorrow, by the way. You should come."

Regina gasped in mock horror. "Emma, I thought our relationship was going well. And yet, here you are, telling me you're looking for someone new."