It's Complicated

Regina doesn't return the blonde's greeting, but sidesteps and motions for her to enter the house. They stand in silence for a few seconds after Regina shuts the door behind them, then Emma abruptly shoves the white box she's holding out in front of her.

"Uh-you didn't say if I should bring a dish or something for dinner, but I brought this pie....well, actually it's from Granny's. You know I don't cook, but hopefully it's alright-and I....am rambling." She finishes, and clams up her mouth, crimson coating her cheeks that was certainly not brought on from the outside chill.

"Yes, dear," Regina agrees to the latter statement, and takes the cardboard box from her. It's still warm, and she flips open the lid, as the smell of cinnamon apples wafts from the container. "Apple," she comments, the word slipping from her lips before she can stop it, and she clears her throat, closing the lid quickly.

"Oh, shit. I didn't think..." Emma trails off, a groan escaping her. She wants to add something else, try to fix her first mistake that's she's made within one minute of this visit, but nothing comes to mind.

"It's quite alright." Regina nods quickly before turning gracefully and makes her way to the kitchen. Emma takes a look around the familiar mansion, remembering a time not at all long ago when she saw this place as a sort of second home, but now just feels out of place. Not sure what else to do, she follows Regina (and the wonderful scent of a nearly-done roast) into the kitchen.

She watches Regina's backside in that wonderful wrap-around dress, and starts to think she herself is underdressed, a common feeling of hers when she's around the brunette. Regina sets the pie box on the counter, then goes about prepping the salad.

Emma clears her throat, awkwardly shoving her fingers into her jeans, (and why does she always do that when she's around Regina?) "So.."

Regina snaps, abruptly slamming the knife she'd been chopping carrots with down on the cutting board. She spins around on the spike of her heel to face Emma, mouth slightly open and upturned in a fake smile, hair whipping about her face with the movement, one finger raised half an arms-length away from her. "Miss Swan, allow me to make one thing exceedingly clear. You are here per Henry's request, because all he wanted for Christmas was a family. You are here because I would never deny that of him, but that does in no way mean you have to keep starting up insufferable, unnecessary conversations that neither of us want."

Emma's mouth hangs open, palms out in front of her. "I'm...I'm trying to be civil and nice here! What is your problem?"

Regina turns back to the vegetables. "You also did not come here so you could fight with me within earshot of Henry. Speaking of, our son is in the den, and he will want to know you're here."

Emma scoffs, throws her hands in the air, and stomps into said room. Henry's seated on the couch, seemingly extremely involved in a terribly violent video game, but when he glances up at her, he immediately pauses it and stands.

"Ma, you made it." He says kindly, in a shockingly deep, rich tone. He pulls her towards him and bends his figure to collect her into a warm hug.

She smiles into his chest, then pulls away, still not overly thrilled with hugs, though when it's Henry performing the action on her, she does enjoy it. "How could I miss Christmas with my favorite Kid?"

Henry grins, flashing those perfect white teeth he certainly didn't inherit from her. "I'm your only kid." He stresses the last word, eyes rolling in good-natured way, jokingly reminding her that he's certainly no longer what she keeps calling him.