A/N: Shout out to snoopykid for unintentionally inspiring this one shot with their story, "17 Again".
"Don't. Say. A. Word."
Emma was mad-
No, scratch that.
No, that wasn't it either…
'Furious', maybe? No, not quite. There was definitely a specific word for what she was feeling.
She rubbed at her temples, feeling a headache coming on. Of all the stupid, moronic, idiotic-
That was the word!
She was livid!
And to make matters worse, it appeared her mother was trying her hardest not laugh at her situation.
"Snow, I swear if you so much as giggle, you will regret it!" the blonde said as she glared as hard as she could at the brunette, who seemed like she only wanted to smile even harder.
'This sucks,' Emma thought dejectedly.
Snow literally had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing out loud at her daughter's predicament. She knew it was bad for her to do so, and she felt guilty about it to be sure, but she couldn't help it!
Never before had Emma looked quite so… adorable before.
"What," the brunette squeaked before clearing her throat and starting again, "What exactly happened?"
Emma continued to glare at her mother from her seat at the counter.
"Belle," she grounded out. "Belle 'happened'."
"How so?" Snow managed to get out, biting her lips hard enough to almost draw blood.
The blonde seemed to shake barely bridled rage.
"Belle," she growled the name, "Got it into her pretty little head, that a good way to better understand Gold would be to practice magic herself."
"Oh no," the brunette groaned, partly from knowing that that couldn't end well-
And partly because it hurt to restrain herself from laughing.
Still, despite her best efforts, a small snort escaped her, causing the blonde's glare to intensify.
"It's not funny!" she nearly bellowed before explaining.
"I was walking by the library while she was practicing and got hit by a stray spell! And wound up like this!" she pointed to herself so indignantly, that Snow lost it, and nearly dropped to the floor, she was laughing so hard.
She felt really, really, bad about her laughter; she really did.
But how else was she supposed to react to the fact that her twenty-eight year old daughter had been transformed into a six-year-old version of herself?
Said six-year-old was currently perched on one of their stools and was glaring daggers at her mother who had to use the nearby support beam to keep from falling over.
It really was a sight to behold, honestly; a six-year-old glaring with her arms crossed while wearing a red leather jacket like she was a total badass. Through her laughter, Snow was subconsciously grateful that the spell had shrunk her daughter's clothes along with her.
If this was how mad Emma was now, she'd hate to see what she would be like if she was forced to come home naked.
Or worse, at least in the blonde's opinion, if she had to come home in frilly, little kid clothes.
At the thought of Emma in a pink dress, Snow was torn between 'aw-ing' at the image, and laughing again.
She settled with both.
"STOP LAUGHING!" Emma yelled, nearly in tears. How dare her mother think this was in anyway amusing?
Seeing how upset the adult-turned-child really was, Snow choked down the rest of laughter and tried to be serious.
"Ahem, sor-sorry sweetie," she said, only giggling slightly, "Did, uh, did Belle try to fix…this?" she waved her hand over her daughter, not able to bring herself to say it without laughing.
Emma huffed. "She tried. Even had Gold take a look at me, 'free of charge'," she sneered, "But he said that due to the 'nature of the spell', I'm going to have to wait for it to wear off on it's own."
"Did he say how long?" Snow asked, successfully stopping her giggles this time.
"He said it could be anywhere from a few hours to a few days," the blonde all but moaned, clearly not thrilled at the prospect of remaining three and a half feet tall for any length of time; she'd been rather short before she'd gotten her growth spurt at twelve.
Snow sighed in relief. "So it is temporary then?"
"That's good," and the brunette meant it. As happy as she was at the chance of seeing what Emma looked like as a child, she knew she would miss seeing her daughter in her natural state and knew that Emma hated this.
Suddenly the blonde's head shot up.
"Where's Henry?" she asked.
"He and James went down to the stables today; something about his pony letting him ride him, I think… why?"
Emma looked down at the ground.
"I don't want him to see me like this," she mumbled, "It's embarrassing and he'll laugh."
Snow felt even guiltier at her early laughter, and moved to crouch before Emma, gently lifting her chin to meet her gaze.
"Oh, sweetie," she said, "I'll admit that, yes, he probably will laugh, and James will most likely join him, but they won't do it to be mean."
"Yes they will," her willful daughter grumbled.
"No," Snow gently reprimanded, "They'll do it because it's funny to see a six-year-old with such a serious look on her face and looking like she just bit into a lemon." She bit her cheek to keep from laughing again before continuing, "And if this was happening to someone else, I think you'd be laughter too. If you don't believe me, I'm sure we can find a few examples on YouTube."
At that, her daughter couldn't help but smile, just a little.
"See, its not so bad," the brunette said, mussing up the blonde's wavy hair on impulse: much to her daughter's chagrin.
She placed her hands on her near and stood up.
"Now," she addressed her daughter, "How's about I whip us up a couple of hot chocolates?"
Emma beamed, "With cinnamon?"
"Of course!" Snow retorted as she began gathering her ingredients.
"And a shot of scotch?"
"Not a chance, missy."
Henry and James soon returned from the stables, and like both women had predicted, after making sure she was okay, both boys busted out laughing at Emma's predicament. But they soon stopped and began to talk over what to do with the blonde in the meantime.
Going to work in her… condition was out of the question, so it was decided that until the spell wore off Emma would remain at the apartment.
The blonde was fine with this arrangement; she didn't want any more people than necessary knowing about her situation.
What she was not fine with was the decision that Snow would take time off from school to take care of her.
"I might have the body of a six-year-old, but I'm still twenty-eight!" she cried indignantly, "I can take care of myself!"
Snow did her best to hide how much that statement hurt her, and instead said, "Oh? So you can reach the stove-top? The pantry? How 'bout the sink?"
Emma glared at her mother, but with no real argument, she had to settle with crossing her arms and leaning back against her chair in a huff.
"I wonder if the spell is be making Mom more childish," Henry wondered aloud.
"No sweetie," the brunette quipped, "She's always like that; it's just easier to see now."
"Ha ha ha, you're hilarious," Emma said with a deadpan voice and expression.
Still, despite her vehement protests, the decision for Snow to stay home with her tomorrow remained final.
'So now Snow gets to spend the day fawning over the child she has always wanted,' Emma thought dryly.
The night passed quickly and before the blonde knew it, it was the next day and James and Henry were off to the stables before work and school respectively.
Emma had expected Snow to be all over her the second the door closed, but to her surprise the brunette simply finished cleaning the dishes from their breakfast, took a seat on the couch, picked up a book, and began to read. The blonde watched her do all of this, more than a little stunned, and suddenly found herself standing awkwardly in the middle of the apartment, not entirely sure what she should do.
She thought about escaping back into the room she and Henry shared upstairs, but that felt like running away, and for some odd reason she didn't want to do that.
Tired of standing awkwardly, Emma forced herself to walk as nonchalantly as she could and took a seat in the armchair across from the couch.
Working up her courage, she asked, "Mind if I watch some TV?"
"Sure," her mother replied and she handed the blonde the remote without looking up from her book. This irked the girl for some reason, but she quickly squashed the feeling before trying to find something to watch.
Meanwhile, Snow's heart seemed like it wanted to beat out of her chest.
She and Charming had talked after Emma and Henry had gone to bed, and both decided it was for the best if Snow just treated Emma like everything was normal.
Like she didn't looked like a little six-year-old angel.
Her six-year-old angel.
'Don't even think about it, Snow. She's twenty-eight. She's twenty-eight,' the brunette chanted to herself silently.
It took every ounce of her will to just nonchalantly clean the dishes and sit down with a book like this was just one of her normal days off.
She nearly laughed at the thought: as if anything about her family was 'normal' anymore.
Still, Snow couldn't help but sneak a peek at her shrunken daughter, watching her try to find something decent to watch. She had a bored expression on her face and her head was in one hand while the other kept clicking on the remote, flipping from channel to channel.
'She really is adorable,' the brunette thought to herself. And it was true. Between Emma's golden locks, her bright eyes and fair skin, and despite the slight scowl on her face, in Snow's eyes, she was perfect.
'Absolutely perfect,' she decided before quickly lowering her eyes back to her book before Emma glanced in her direction.
Not able to catch her mother staring, though she could of sworn she had been, the blonde simply shrugged and brought her attention back to the TV.
After flipping through over a dozen channels, Emma finally hit one that was showing Saw. Feeling brave, and subconsciously wanting to show that she was still a grown-up and could handle stuff like this, the blonde got settled in her chair and began to watch the actors on the small screen.
Snow recognized the movie Emma had decided on and for half a second considered commenting about it, but she bit her tongue and tuned out the screams of the terrified people: a skill she, or rather, Mary Margaret had perfected over her years of teaching occasionally rowdy fourth graders.
Emma watched what was left of the movie for over an hour, taking in every shot, stab, blood drawn, and scream unleashed. She wasn't super scared, but she was more than a little uncomfortable. Still, her pride wouldn't allow her to change the channel.
As the end credits rolled, the blonde breathed a silent sigh of relief, which was quickly cut off when she realized that the next film starting was Saw II. Apparently the channel was having an all day Saw marathon.
Emma debated on changing to a different channel, but instead set her jaw and kept her eyes on the screen, bracing herself to watch more people die horrific deaths.
Her pride would not allow her to make so much as a single peep; even when she wanted to scream and cringe at the atrocities on the TV.
'Who the hell came up with this twisted shit?' she wondered as a man awoke to find himself faced with a deadly ultimatum on screen.
'Probably Gold,' she thought dryly, 'Or maybe Regina.'
Still, despite the horrors she was seeing, Emma watched all of Saw II.
And managed to get halfway through IV before she fell asleep in the armchair; although whether this was from being mentally exhausted from trying not to outwardly freak out, or because her six-year-old body needed the rest was anyone's guess.
Snow sighed in relief when her daughter finally conked out in the chair. She thought she would have to sit through every single Saw movie and was very glad that she wouldn't have to. The brunette could block out only so many screams of pain before feeling like she was back in battle again.
Rising up silently from the couch, Snow quietly leaned over and gently plucked the remote from her daughter's fingers before using it to turn off the TV.
She was about to return to her spot before pausing and grabbed the blanket on the back of it, draping it over the blonde's slumbering form. She couldn't help but smile at the scene and had to force herself to retake her seat before she did something foolish, like give Emma a kiss or move a lock of hair out of her face; things she knew that her daughter wouldn't appreciate should she awaken while Snow did them.
Returning to her book, the brunette was resigned to just enjoy what she had with Emma, and not push any further.
Roughly an hour after she had fallen asleep, Snow noticed some movement on the armchair out of the corner of her eye. Thinking Emma was waking up, the brunette turned her head towards the chair and was concerned to see that her daughter's eye were screwed shut and she seemed to be breathing heavily as she tried to toss and turn on the small chair.
Worried that she might fall out and hurt herself, Snow put her book down and crouching in front of the armchair, gently grabbed Emma's shoulders and tried to shake her awake.
"Emma? Emma, wake up sweetie," she called softly, but her touch only seemed to agitate the child even further as she began to cry out in her sleep.
Her heart stopping at the pitiful sounds, Snow shook her harder and called louder; silently begging whatever nightmare had its hold on her daughter to let go of her at once.
"Emma! Wake up! It's just a dream!" The brunette struggled to keep her voice calm, but how could she when her daughter was in the throes of terror and there was nothing she could do.
"EMMA, PLEASE WAKE UP!" she eventually yelled, and the blonde's eyes shot straight open as she took in a gasp of air. Halting her tossing and turning, Emma's eyes roved around madly before settling on Snow's concerned face.
Snow sighed in relief and got halfway though saying her daughter's name again before Emma barreled into her chest and starting crying in near hysterics.
"Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom," the child sobbed again and again, clutching Snow as if she was a lifeline.
The brunette's joy at being called that name soon vanished when she remembered the situation and she quickly wrapped her arms tightly around her little, sitting down on the floor and cradling the child protectively.
"Shh, shh… it's alright… I'm here… I'm right here…" she cooed to Emma, "You're alright…I'm not going anywhere…"
"The-there was a-a room-an-and you-and Henry-and-," the girl sobbed even louder, not able to fully describe what she had dreamed, but Snow gathered enough to know that her daughter was horrified by what she'd seen and now was on the verge of a panic attack.
She began to rock her gently on the floor and rubbed little circles on her back.
"It's okay; it's over now… Shh…you're okay…we're all okay…"
Never before had Emma seem so small to Snow, and a part of her didn't think it was simply because of Belle's spell. Or maybe Henry was right and it was causing the blonde to revert to a more child-like mentality. More so than usual, at least.
Nevertheless, the brunette resolutely remained on the hard floor, focusing only on cradling her daughter's tiny body and whispering soothing words into her ear.
Eventually Emma's sobs died away to nothing more than the occasional sniffle. Feeling her calm down once again, Snow sat her on her knee facing her and gently moved some of her hair out of her face, asking with a small smile, "You okay?"
The blonde sniffled and nodded but kept her eyes down; clearly embarrassed at her little break down.
Snow smiled a little wider and rubbed her daughter's arm.
"Hey, it's okay," she said, lifting up Emma's chin to meet eyes she gotten from her, "Being scared for your family is nothing you ever have to be ashamed of."
Snow smirked. "Although in retrospect, watching almost four scary movies in a row to prove you're still an adult might not have been the best idea you've ever had."
Emma flinched. "You saw that, huh?"
"Sweetie, you don't exactly have the best poker face when it comes to your emotions," the brunette teased, "Which is fine, seeing as you're usually straight forward with people to begin with."
The blonde had to smile at that particular truth.
"Come on, let's go get some more hot chocolate," Snow said.
Not thinking twice about it, the brunette wrapped her arms around her daughter and lifted her up like she weighed nothing.
Realizing what she had just done, Snow froze. She knew that there were things Emma disliked her doing and this was one of the big ones.
So she felt her heart melt when her child, her dear sweet little Emma, wrapped her own arms around her and nuzzled into her neck.
Beaming happily, the brunette made her way over to their small kitchen.
"Hey… Mom?" a small voice from below her ear asked.
Grinning at the title, Snow replied, "Yes, sweetheart?"
"Can I have some-,"
"Emma Swan, for the last time, I am not giving your six-year-old body scotch!"
A/N: I have no idea if Emma actually prefers scotch: or even if scotch is good mixed into other things for that matter.
But it's FanFiction, and I call poetic license!
I might be persuaded to do a part two with some daddy/daughter moments-
If you give me lots of reviews to read.
I do love me some reviews! ^w^