Chapter Text
It began snowing before sunrise.
By mid-morning, Regina stood by the window of her office in Town Hall, arms crossed as she watched thick flakes blur the horizon into a white haze. The snow hadn’t stopped since dawn, and the town was blanketed in a soft, deceptive quiet.
She tapped her fingers against her arm. A snowstorm was coming, and fast.
By late afternoon, she issued a warning through town broadcast and emergency alerts.
“Due to worsening weather conditions, residents are advised to stay indoors. There is a high probability of a power outage tonight. Please ensure you have extra blankets, water, flashlights, and food. Stay safe, and stay warm.”
She'd triple-checked her own home—stocked food, candles, extra logs for the hearth. Emmett and Henry were joking and tossing popcorn at each other as she came in from her last round of mayoral duties.
“Snowstorm’s hitting earlier,” she announced, removing her coat. “We might lose power tonight.”
Henry groaned from the couch. “ Noooo. That means no movie night! ”
Emmett raised a brow. “No power means no heat, no TV, no Wi-Fi.”
“No Wi-Fi ?!” Henry nearly dropped his bowl of popcorn in horror.
“Do you want to try climbing the roof to hold the Starlink up?” Emmett asked dryly.
Henry flopped back dramatically. “This is the end. I’ve lived a good life.”
Regina rolled her eyes, unamused but secretly enjoying the dramatics.
“At least we’ve had dinner,” she said. “And showers. You’re not freezing with soup in your hair, which is a plus.”
“But we’re cold ,” Henry whined. “The heater’s already slowing down.”
Regina glanced at the fireplace, then the rest of the living room.
Emmett stood, rubbing his hands together. “Alright. Operation ‘Camp in the Living Room’ is a go.”
Regina narrowed her eyes. “Operation what ?”
“It’s survival, Your Majesty,” he said with a teasing grin. “We will stack all the pillows and blankets, and huddle near the hearth. Body heat plus fire equals not freezing to death.”
Henry perked up. “Wait, like a fort?”
“A grown-up fort,” Emmett said seriously.
Regina sighed but found herself smiling faintly. “Fine. I’ll get the extra blankets.”
Within twenty minutes, they’d turned the living room into something resembling a cozy campsite.
Blankets were layered thickly across the rug. Pillows lined the floor and couch cushions were repurposed into makeshift walls. Candles were lit around the room, casting golden flickers across the snow-streaked windows. The fire crackled in the hearth, warm and steady.
Regina had even surrendered her plushest blanket—the heavy one she usually reserved for evenings alone with wine and silence.
“All set?” Emmett asked.
Regina looked over their creation, arms crossed.
“It’s decent,” she allowed. “A bit chaotic, but warm.”
Henry was already lying down, half-buried in blankets. “Best idea ever.”
“We’ll see how you feel when the Wi-Fi withdrawal hits,” she muttered.
They arranged themselves for sleep—Henry in the middle, of course. Regina on his right. Emmett on his left. Regina tried to keep a respectable distance between her and Emmett, but space was limited, and warmth was a higher priority.
“Night,” Henry mumbled, already halfway to sleep.
“Good night,” Regina and Emmett echoed softly.
The fire crackled.
Outside, the wind howled.
Inside, everything was still.
Regina stirred first.
The fire had long since dimmed into embers. Early morning light peeked through the curtains, faint and silvery. Snow still fell softly outside.
She became aware—slowly—of weight on her chest.
Her first thought was: cat? Which made no sense, she didn’t own one.
Then she registered warmth. A head. Soft breathing.
Oh no.
Henry was curled across half her body, one arm flopped over her stomach.
Okay, she reasoned. That’s normal.
Then her eyes drifted down.
Emmett.
On the other half of her body.
His arm draped over her waist, his body curved along hers. His head— his face —was resting on her chest. Mouth slightly open. One of his legs tangled with hers under the blanket.
She couldn’t breathe.
Or move.
Do not panic, she told herself. It’s just physics. Body heat. Shared blankets. Nothing inappropriate.
But still.
He was— good gods —snuggling her like a teddy bear.
She swallowed. Her heart was thumping.
Henry snored softly.
She risked a slow movement, trying to inch away.
Emmett shifted with a faint groan—and nuzzled closer.
Nope.
Absolutely not.
This was an ambush.
Finally, after several excruciating minutes, Emmett blinked awake.
“Hmmph…”
His lashes fluttered. Then he froze.
Green eyes met hers.
She raised one eyebrow.
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Then whispered:
“…Morning.”
“Get. Off.”
He slowly—very slowly—lifted his head from her chest, trying not to jostle Henry.
“Not how I imagined waking up on you,” he murmured, voice low and raspy.
“Emmett.”
“Not that I’m complaining. ”
She shot him a glare, cheeks flushed.
He rolled to his side—carefully—and sighed.
“Henry’s still asleep. Thank gods.”
“Exactly. If he saw you using me as a personal teddy bear.”
“He’ll be exciting.”
She buried her face in her hands.
Emmett chuckled softly, stretching.
“Well,” he said. “At least we didn’t freeze.”
“No,” she muttered. “Just died of secondhand embarrassment.”
“Next time, I call the spot on your other side.”
She threw a pillow at him.
Eventually, Henry woke up with all the energy of a sugared-up puppy.
“Did the storm pass?” he yawned.
“Mostly,” Regina said, brushing his hair back. “Power’s still out, but it’s calmer now.”
“Awesome! Can we make pancakes over the fire?”
Emmett raised a brow. “Now that’s a snow day plan.”
Regina groaned. “I suppose. But if you burn my pan, I’m locking you out in the snow.”
They spent the morning cooking over the fire and laughing while Henry pretended he was a pioneer. Regina eventually smiled through it all, warmth spreading through her chest in more ways than one.
She found herself watching Emmett more than once—how he laughed easily, how he helped Henry without being asked, how he moved through the house like he belonged.
And when he caught her watching, he only smiled.
Still smug.
Still warm.
And this time, she didn’t look away.