Repeat (A Once Upon A Time Fanfiction / Captain Swan's Daughter)

39

"You're going to have to do something soon, Phoebe." Julie mumbled.

"What is it that needs to be done, exactly?" Emma asked. Her and Julie engaged in a legal related conversation with a lot of talk about documents and signatures. My concentration switched off and I began playing with my hair. There was nothing else to do, as my phone was currently in use. After a couple of minutes I went to the bathroom, leaving Emma sat on my bed.

"We're going to Boston." Emma announced once I returned.

• • •

"So tell me again why you're venturing out to Boston." Killian requested, his eyebrows furrowed slightly.

Emma explained for the second time that her files were still in Boston, and she needed to make sure she had or could get legal custody of me before anything bad happened, which seemed to be a common theme in our family. Killian didn't seem fully comfortable with the idea of Emma and I leaving for a day or so, but he understood that it had to be done.

"Could you remind me why I can't come?" He asked, fiddling with his ear.

"Because you hate cars and get travel sick driving to Regina's?" Emma answered, making Killian blush slightly. He prides himself on his tough image, yet Emma's car made him anxious.

"And you're leaving today?" Killian asked. Again.

"We're going to have to leave in about an hour if we want to miss the traffic." Emma explained. Anything to do with cities and road systems seemed to go through one of Killian's ears and right out of the other. "We also need to stop at my parents' to pick up some stuff."

"I'll miss my girls." Killian pouted. In response, Emma stood on her toes and gave the pirate a quick kiss. They were cuties.

"Make sure Henry doesn't do anything stupid while we're gone." Emma ordered.

"It's one night, Emma. I'm not quite 'father of the year', but I know how to care for the boy." Killian assured Emma. I had a feeling she had only said that so she could get a reaction from her husband.

• • •

"Mom?" Emma knocked on her parents' apartment door.

"The door's open, Emma. You could have just come straight in." Mary Margaret told her daughter, her son attached to her hip.

"I don't want a repeat of the last time I did that." Emma said. Mary Margaret cringed, and I had some ideas on what they were referencing.

"Would you like a drink?" Mary Margaret offered.

"No, thanks." Emma politely declined, "we're leaving for Boston really soon and I just came to pick up some things."

"Boston?" Mary Margaret looked surprised, so Emma repeated the explanation she told Hook for the third time. Luckily, Mary Margaret was more understanding and didn't need to have everything retold like Killian did.

"Hello Emma." David emerged from a doorway, buttoning the top of his shirt.

"Hey, dad. Do you know where my passport and birth certificate are?" Emma asked.

"I think they're locked in a safe at the station." David answered.

"Damn." Emma said under her breath.

"We can go and get them. It won't take any longer than ten minutes." David offered. Emma looked at me for approval, and I nodded. I didn't know why I was the one in charge, but I went with it.

With David and Emma gone, just Mary Margaret, Neal and I were left at the appartment.

"Hot cocoa?" Mary Margaret suggested.

"Yes please." I smiled. Could I ever ever turn down my favourite drink?

"Could you hold Neal?" She asked, putting Neal into my arms before I could answer.

"Hello." I cooed at the toddler wriggling on my knee. "Can you say Phoebe yet?"

Neal had been saying words like 'mama', 'dada', and 'Emma', but hadn't quite got his head around more complicated words like Rumplestiltskin. Obviously, my name was easier to say than Henry's other grandad's, but Neal still couldn't get past the first syllable. I was 'Fee' to him. He may not be quite at Shakespeare's level, but he was cuddly.

I looked up to see Mary Margaret with her camera pointed towards me. She saw my questioning look and explained.

"I was just taking some cute photos of you and your uncle." I smiled, remembering that the little toddler sat on my lap was my uncle. It was a bit like Modern Family, only Modern Family doesn't have cursed and people in their late thirties with teenage grandchildren.

"Cinnamon?" Mary Margaret asked once she's got back to making us a mug of hot chocolate.

"Of course." I smiled.

"Definitely my granddaughter." Mary Margaret smiled back.

"What's it like having having grandchildren so close in age to you?" I asked between sips of my drink. It was one of those questions I had always thought about, but never had the chance to ask.

"Well, for starters, it's weird having a daughter who looks the same age as you. Admittedly, I sometimes act like an old lady and Emma sometimes acts like a stroppy teenager. I suppose I'm used to it." Mary Margaret began, "It is quite scary to think that mr grandchildren only look 18 years younger than me.  I've gotten used to it, though. What bothers me is how much of your lives I've missed."

"We can make new memories." I reminded her.

"That's right!" Mary Margaret exclaimed in her best teacher-voice. For a moment, I felt like I had to sit up straight and act like I was in class. "That reminds me, as soon as you get back I'm going to give you some archery lessons."

"Are you good?" I asked.

"Am I good?" Mary Margaret repeated, exaggerating an outraged voice with her hand accross her chest. "Taught my Hercules himself, I am the joint-best archer in Storybrooke."

"Who's your competition." I smirked, knowing that she took pride in being the best and didn't want to admit to having competition.

"Merida." Mary Margaret admitted, smiling slightly with a shrug.

"I could have guessed." I chucked and picked up my mug. It was like living in Disneyland without the roller coasters.

• • •

"I wanna really, really, really wanna zigazig ah." Wannabe was playing on the car's radio, so me and Emma took it upon ourselves to sing all of the parts at once.

I wasn't sure how long we had been driving for, but it has been a while. Not long enough for my legs to ache from still for so long, though.

"We've got about an hour and a quarter to go." Emma told me, reading my mind.

"I'm nervous and I don't know why." I admitted.

"There's no need to be nervous," Emma reassured me, "you're my daughter and I'm not going to let anything happen to you."