A/N: This ended up with much more feelsy captain charming than I anticipated. Sorry not sorry, I love captain charming (so damn much).
Snow is halfway through her meal, David probably not halfway through his grumblings about ice monsters and frozen engines, when a few high-pitched whines replace the happy gurgling that had been coming from her left. She sighs, and looks to the carrier beside her, and the little boy inside – the one showing every sign of an oncoming tantrum; a wobbling lip, tightly bunched fists – and sets down her knife and fork.
“I think he needs changing,” she tells David, carefully gathering her son into her arms, bouncing him lightly in an attempt to soothe the cries that are growing steadily in conviction.
Her husband’s mouth is full of the lasagne he’s been practically shovelling in (whether it’s because he loves it that much, or because he’s worried lunch will be interrupted with another ice-related disaster, or a combination of both, Snow doesn’t know) so he only nods.
She makes her way across the diner – the wailing of her son not heard over Grumpy’s very enthusiastic (and loud) play-by-play of the frozen car incident – and ducks into the hallway, watching her son and gently hushing him as she rounds the corner.
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