Kellie🪝🦢

“Hey Mary Margaret, what’s up?” she asked, seeing her mother’s picture on the screen when she pulled the device from her back pocket.

“Can you and Hook meet us down in the parlor in say five minutes?” Mary Margaret asked.

“Sure?” she said, the word coming out more of a question than a statement.  “What’s up?  Is everything okay?  Did the witch–”

“Oh nothing like that,” Mary Margaret said.  “Don’t worry.  Your father and I just had an idea.”

Killian gave her a concerned look as she hung up the phone.  “Another crisis, Swan?”

“I don’t think so,” she said slowly.  “That was Mary Margtaret and she sounded….excited.  She wants us to meet her in the parlor.  Just give me a second to tell the kid where I’m off to.”

Five minutes later, they found themselves seated on a loveseat in front of a merrily roaring fire in Granny’s parlor, an equally confused–and annoyed, from the look of it–Regina sitting across from them.

Before any of them had a chance to speculate what was up, Mary Margaret and David breezed in, cheeks reddened from the cold and a few stray snowflakes in their hair.

“Brr!  It’s cold out there,” Mary Margaret said with a smile, “and it’s starting to snow–which is just perfect.”

Emma shot Killian a bemused look, and he shrugged, clearly as at a loss as she was.

“Mom,” Emma said, hoping to win some favor by using the familial term.  “What’s all this about?  Is there a new threat from Zelena?  Did something else happen?”

“Oh nothing like that!” Mary Margaret said.  “We called you all here because, well, tomorrow’s Christmas Eve.”

“Tomorrow’s….Christmas Eve?” Killian said blankly.

“Oh come on, Hook,” David said, “we had Christmas back in our land.  Surely you know what it is!”

“Of course I bloody know what Christmas is,” Killian bit out.  “What I fail to grasp is why that warrants a meeting of the heroes.”

“We have to plan a celebration, of course!” Mary Margaret said, nearly bounding on her chair.  And there’s no time to waste!”

Regina gave her erstwhile enemy a look of disbelief.  “My insane half sister is running around, trying to steal hearts and courage and who the hell knows what else, and you want to plan a party?”

A look of steely determination came into Mary Margaret’s face.  “Yes, that’s exactly what I want to do,” she said.  “I don’t know what the witch has planned.  I don’t know how she plans to go about getting what she wants, but I do know one thing: when this town comes together we don’t fail.  I refuse to let her steal the joy of the holiday from me or my family–or my town!”

“And the best way to stop her is to set up a Christmas tree and drink eggnog and give each other presents we don’t want anyway?” Regina continued.

“Couldn’t hurt,” David said.

“Of course it could!” Regina exploded.  “Who knows what she’ll get accomplished while we galavant around town like idiots!”

“Swan?  What do you think?” Killian asked, turning toward her.

She thought for a moment before formulating her answer.  “I say, screw her,” she said finally.  “Whatever insane plot she’s hatching, she’s basically acting like a spoiled kid, and what do you do with a spoiled kid?  You ignore them.  She wants to throw a temper tantrum, we’ll be ready for her.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, Zelena adjusted her hat, and then poofed herself out of her farmhouse to the edge of town, curious to see the effect her showdown with her pathetic younger sister had on the rest of the town.

She’d defeated her handily, thanks in part to her secret, Dark One, weapon.  

Would the town be cowering in fear?  Would they be huddled together trying to prepare for whatever new hell Zelena planned for them?

She looked around, and her brows furrowed in confusion.  There was no spirit of fear or concern in the air.  There was an air of excitement, of festivity.  Grumpy and the rest of the dwarf’s were dragging a huge pine tree onto the square and untangling strands of lights.  Marco and Archie hung decorations on light posts.  Belle sang a Christmas carol as she strung garland on the door of library.

Zelena huddled farther into the large coat she’d donned to hide her identity for her reconnaissance mission.  Stepping into Granny’s, she noticed the core group of heroes–along with Granny and Ruby were engaged in a strategy meeting.

But it wasn’t any kind of strategy meeting she would have expected.  They seemed to be planning….a party.

“Should there be a gift exchange?” Mary Margaret asked.

“Put together in one day?” Regina asked skeptically.

“Why not?” Mary Margaret said.  “What kind of Christmas party doesn’t even have a gift exchange?  We could make it a game.  A white elephant gift exchange!”

They were planning a party?  The morning after she’d so soundly defeated her younger sister?  Had they all gone crazy?

Wordlessly, Zelena slipped out of the diner.  They thought to ignore her and the threat she posed?  She’d see about that!

As she made her way back to her farmhouse, an idea came to her mind. A wonderful, terrible idea

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“So….the whole town is having a Christmas party?” Henry asked as he, Emma and Killian walked from their rooms toward the diner bright and early on Christmas morning.

“That they are lad,” Killian said, smiling delightedly. “Replete with gifts, games and holiday treats.”

“But…but weren’t you all just working to find the person who killed my dad, and how you’re having a party?” he asked.

Emma stopped and put a comforting hand on her son’s shoulder.  “Kid, don’t worry, we’ll catch her.  We just can’t stop living while we do.  We can’t let her steal our joy.”

“Your father would want you to enjoy the season,” Killian added.

“But….are we safe?” Henry persisted.

A steely look came into Emma’s eyes.  “The only person who isn’t safe is the w–I mean the killer, if she tries anything today.”

He looked closely at her for a moment.  The kid had an unsettling way of looking for lies–much like she’d always had.  Finally, he nodded.  “Cool.  So what does this town do for Christmas?”

“I guess we’re about to find out,” Emma said.  “And kid…this town is….different, so don’t be surprised if some of their…traditions…are kind of weird.”

“Hey, I’m a kid,” Henry said. “As long as there are presents and sweets I’m happy.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The party went off without a hitch–until late in the afternoon.  Frankly Killian was shocked how long it took for the witch to strike.

They’d just finished a delectable Christmas dinner and were setting up for the white elephant gift exchange–which would no doubt prove to be interesting, given the fact at least four of the dwarves were well into their cups by that point, and Happy was fully inebriated–when a tremendous clatter was heard outside the diner.

As one, the residents of Storybrooke fled to the door and windows to see what was happening.

Zelena, in full on green skin, black dress and hat walked purposely toward them, while a band of flying monkeys screamed to each other, tearing decorations from windows and doors, destroying the carefully decorated tree.

A loud murmur of concern and fear went through the assembly as the witch approached.  Henry, for his part, gave his mother a bemused look.

“Uh…” she said, thinking hard, “this is….this is…”

“The traditional Christmas interactive play,” Regina said, coming to her aid. 

“She looks like the Wicked Witch of the West,” Henry said, skeptically.  “What does she have to do with Christmas?”

“It’s the green skin,” Emma said.  “She’s like… the grinch.”

“So….you do an interactive Grinch play starring the Wicked Witch of the West?”

Fortunately, Swan was saved answering that question by the arrival of the witch herself.

“Well, isn’t this a festive assembly?” Zelena said, walking in confidently.  “Didn’t get enough the other night, sis?”

Without further ado, Zelena raised her hands, called on all of her magic, and…..nothing happened.

“What the hell?” she asked, looking down at her hands.

“Protection spell,” Regina said, gesturing around the diner.  “Covers the whole place.  Sorry to ruin your greatest Christmas wish, but your annoying green hands are tied here.”

“You can’t keep a spell that powerful up forever!” Zelena thundered. “Sooner or later I will break through.”

“Maybe so,” Regina continued.  “But it won’t happen until after Christmas.”

“Look, greenie,” Emma said, “It’s Christmas.  We’re all here to enjoy ourselves.  You’ve got two options: leave us the hell alone, or get over yourself, grab an eggnog and act like an adult, rather than a spoiled child.”

Zelena looked murderous for another moment, and then her facade crumbled.  “You’d really let me join your party?  Knowing who I am?  What I’m capable of? That I’m planning to destroy you all?”

Mary Margaret approached her with a cup of eggnog.  “It’s Christmas, Zelena.   Everyone deserves a little grace and a second chance at Christmas.  I bet there’s even a gift for you under that tree.”

“Come join us,” David said.  “After all, you can always go back to trying to destroy us tomorrow.”

Perhaps the magic of the season touched her.  Perhaps she, like all the rest of them was simply tired.  Perhaps her heart grew three sizes that day. Whatever the reason, after a long silence, in which it felt like no one so much as moved, the witch nodded and the party went on.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Much later that evening a bemused Zelena returned to her farmhouse.  What manner of witchcraft had her spoiled sister used upon her?  She’d gone to the town to destroy their Christmas, and instead they’d invited her in, allowed her to make merry with them, treated her as one of their own.

Was it possible she’d been wrong about them–wrong about everything?

No, she finally decided, sitting before the fire. No, she wouldn’t let a little reverse psychology derail her like that!  Tomorrow it was back to business as usual.  Tomorrow she went back to getting the ingredients she needed.  Tomorrow she took the next step toward getting what she truly deserved–a life in which her sister had never been born.  A life in which she was the favored and only daughter.

And, after all, tonight hadn’t been a complete waste.  She’d gained some useful intel.  It seemed the Savior and the pirate were quite close.  The way they looked at each other.  The way they sought each other out.  Quite the budding romance there.

Perhaps she could use it to her advantage.  Perhaps it was just what she needed to neutralize the savior.  Just a little bit of manipulation, a little bit of deception, and she had no doubt she’d succeed in cursing the pirate’s lips and letting him do the rest for her.

Until then, she had a bigger problem.  The whole noxious town had come together to work as one.  She couldn’t have that.  Couldn’t have that at all.  She had to do something to wipe the warm fuzzies from everyone’s consciousness.

Looks like it was time for one last memory spell.  Taking a vial from her bag, she uncorked it and let the fog waft from it toward the town.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“So kid, what did you think of Storybrooke Christmas?” Emma asked as the three of them headed back toward their rooms.

“Mom, this town is really, really weird,” he said.

“You don’t know the half of it,” she muttered under her breath.

“But,” he concluded, “it was a really good Christmas.  Thanks for bringing me.”

She gave him a quick hug.  “Kid, there’s no one in the world I’d rather spend Christmas with than you, no matter where or how we do it.”

“Me too, mom,” he said, returning her hug, before yawning loudly.

“Okay, time for bed, kid,” she said, opening their door, and gesturing inside.  “I’ll be in in a moment.  Just want to talk to Killian.”

She waited until the door was closed after him, and then turned back to Killian.  “Well, it looks like a Christmas disaster was averted, and the kid’s no worse for the wear.”

“Your lad is stronger than you think, love,” Killian said softly, taking a step closer to her and hooking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. “And you did a fantastic job giving him a joyful and memorable Christmas.”

“You really think so?” she asked tentatively.  “Killian, I never really had Christmas growing up the way I did, and so I always want to make sure Henry doesn’t feel the loss the way I did.”

“And he never will,” he said with a gentle smile, “because he has a mother who loves him.  It makes up for any….less than perfect Christmas moment.”

Her heart turned over at the look he gave her.  The look he was always giving her.  He believed in her, really, truly believed in her.  He was on her side and in her corner, no matter what.  It didn’t matter what she did, what she said, how much she tried to push him away.  He’d once told her he was in it for the long haul, and she was finally, finally beginning to suspect that he meant it.

She looked up at him for long moments as her heart pounded.  If she didn’t step away soon, she was going to do something stupid. Like kiss him.

She should turn around, walk back into her room.  Bid him good night.

But it was Christmas.  The day had been magical.  She was feeling good–and he was a big part of it.

Screw it.  Tomorrow she’d go back to guarding her heart.  For tonight.  For one night only, she’d show him what his support meant to her.

Reaching up, she grabbed his lapels and pulled him down for a long, slow kiss.  If he was surprised at her actions, he didn’t show it, merely pulling her close, and kissing her back just as fervently as he let his hand tangle in her hair.

Just how long the kiss would have gone on–and how passionate it would have become–Emma didn’t know, because just as she turned her head to deepen the kiss even further, she caught a faint wisp of–something (smoke? Fog? A spell?) out of the corner of her eye.

She pulled away, watching as the fog billowed toward them, and then overtook them, so quickly, she didn’t even have time to cry out.

But no sooner had the cloud overtaken them than it dissipated, and suddenly Emma couldn’t remember what they’d been doing or why.

She shook her head.  The showdown between Regina and Zelena must have rattled her more than she’d thought.

“How did the queen fare against the witch?” Killian asked, 

Killian loved the ocean. He could spend hours listening to the sound of its surf, admiring the foaming waves and the sunlight playing merrily on its surface. Even when it was disturbed by wind and storm, Killian trusted it. He had studied its stubborn habits and capricious antics and knew how he should have acted to save his ship from the flashes of lightning that cut through the thickening darkness and struck the water dangerously close to Jolly's sides.

But not now.

Right now he was afraid of him. More afraid than ever as he watched in horror as Emma clung with all her might to the edge of the plank at the foot of the railing. Her fingers slipped on the wet, cold wood and she clutched desperately at the only thing that kept her from falling to the cold depths.

Tumbling over the railing, Killian held out his hand to her.

"Swan! Grab it!" He shouted, trying to sound louder than the winds and booming thunder.

Emma was in no hurry to do this. She looked uncertainly at his hand, and then her eyes met his, and he saw in them the same feelings that had burned him since their first meeting: suspicion and distrust. With every sentence, every action, every decision, it was as if she was slapping him every time he opened up to her.

"You would have done the same," she told him later, after she'd left him handcuffed at the top of the damn beanstalk.

But he wouldn't. He wouldn't let her down like that. And he wasn't going to fail her now.

"Come on!" Killian rushed her.

He could feel the burning stares of David and Snow White, who were barely restraining themselves from pushing him away and trying to help his daughter on their own. But Killian had gotten there before them, and all they had to do was believe the pirate - horrible and despicable. And even they handled it better than Emma.

Her frightened eyes slid over his fingers again, and then she looked over her shoulder at the raging waves, ready to take her in and drag her to the bottom. Killian felt anger rising in him. She was choosing between trusting him and the prospect of drowning, bloody hell. Really?! How deep were her traumas? There was only one way to find out - don't let her die.

"This is not the right time for your trust issues, Swan!" he yelled, getting her attention. She raised her head to meet his blue eyes again. "Please, just take my hand!"

The hope and concern she saw in his expression, the strain in his voice, seemed to finally convince her of his sincerity. Shifting her fulcrum to one hand, she gave a jerk in an attempt to reach him, and Killian almost exulted at the feel of her fingertips touching his. But as if out of spite, a bright flash illuminated the space around them, and lightning struck the surface of the water beside Jolly with a deafening crack. With a shudder, Emma lost her concentration and her fingers loosened, letting her body fall to the abyss.

With eyes wide open, Killian watched her move away from him. His body felt as if it had been poured with heavy, cold lead, stiffening his movements. All he could do was watch as the black, bottomless ocean embraced her, and her golden head disappeared quickly into the impenetrable shroud.

Only experience stopped him from the impulse that resounded in his head.

"Jump after her!" his emotions screamed, but reason dictated a different course of action.

"Wait!" Killian grabbed David's arm as he started to climb overboard.

"She'll drown!" he protested, breaking free of his grip.

"And so will you! Let me help!" Killian asked.