CS Secret Santa 2025

It was the day before Christmas Eve and not one to let the town down, Killian once again started to climb the rigging to the main mast. He'd always hung Christmas lights on the Jolly Roger since she'd been returned to him and he'd learnt about the joy of Christmas.

David paced anxiously below. “Careful up there, Emma won't be happy with us if anything happens to you,” he called up to his son-in-law. “And Snow will have my balls if I allow you to get hurt and ruin Christmas,” he said under his breath more to himself.

Everything had gone well and the lights were up and looking festive. Killian took a moment to look around Storybrooke. It wasn't often he climbed up the main mast. If he was honest his knees didn't like the climb as much as they used to, but the view was always worth it. Committing the vista to memory, he started to make his way down the rope ladder.

However, what should have been a routine climb down turned into a mini disaster. Killian felt time slowing as one of the rungs snapped, making his foot slip. He heard David scream, which if he wasn't in so much pain he'd have laughed at. Throughout all this Killian tried grappling around for something to break his fall. Unfortunately for him it was his foot that stopped him and he found himself upside down hanging by that one foot. “Buggering hell!” Killian exclaimed.

“Killian! Are you alright?” David checked, rather unnecessarily.

“Do I look ok? Get me down… get help… Just do something, mate and stop floundering. Be the bloody Prince and ex-Sheriff, not whatever you are right now,” Killian managed to get out through gritted teeth, still swinging around upside down.

Killian’s words sparked something within David and he finally took action, cutting the former pirate down.

The Jolly Roger cushioned her captain's body as it fell onto her decks. Whilst she felt the seismic change within the town, when it came to the man who'd spent so much time in her company, she refused to see him in any more discomfort. It had already pained her greatly hearing his groans. Of course this was nothing to what she'd witnessed from him over the years. So she did what she could to make his fall more bearable. If she could have healed him she would have done so. That job would need to be left to his lovely lady wife. The Jolly swayed to a gentle stop when Killian patted her boards and whispered his words of thanks.

Meanwhile David, who felt much calmer now that his son-in-law wasn't hanging upside down by his ankle, had called through to Storybrooke Paramedics to seek medical advice. “Thanks to our delicate location they're going to send a team out,” he advised.

“Wonderful news. I'm sure I could hobble off here, though.”

Despite the grumbling ex-pirate, when the team had arrived, they managed to escort him off his ship and to hospital.

Meanwhile on the other side of town, Emma made her way out of Granny's. She inhaled the sweet scent of the Gingerbread Latte before taking a sip of the warming liquid. She was preparing to take a drive by the Jolly on her rounds through Storybrooke. Emma usually found the task dull, but at this time of year she loved seeing the houses decorated with their lights and inflatables. Of course this made the job harder, but she loved it.

Sighing in pleasure at how her life had turned out, Emma set off in the direction of the harbour. However, part way through the journey Emma received notification of an accident there. The dispatch went on to say the names of the two people closest to her and that they were on their way to Storybrooke Hospital.

As calmly as she could, Emma turned the car around and drove off in the direction of the medical facility. All the way she cursed Regina and her madcap idea to pause their use of magic. Her previously good, festive mood rapidly turned sour.

🎄🎁🎄

Upon her arrival at the hospital, Emma soon found her way to her husband and father. When she heard them laughing with each other about their antics it did nothing to lighten her mood.

It was only when her dad walked out of the room she realised it was Killian who was injured.

“I'll give you two a minute,” David said to Emma as he gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Don't be too hard on him, it was just an accident.”

Her eyes narrowed as she assessed her father, yet she found herself calming down as she entered the room. Seeing her husband sat up on the bed reminded Emma of the first time he'd been in the hospital.

“Hello beautiful,” Killian said, happy to see his wife.

Upset, scared and still just a little pissed at him that he'd put himself in the position where he'd got himself injured yet again, she couldn't help approach the bed and pat his leg.

“Ah, bloody hell love!”

“Do you have any idea what you've put me through, Killian? When I heard the call saying that you were in the hospital again… I was worried sick. You do realise that when Zeus brought you back to us he also made you age at the normal pace again? You do recall all this, right? I just can't… I don't want to be a single mom again.”

Killian dropped all bravado when he realised what his antics truly meant. He was older now, and he was going to be a dad again. That was the true blessing. Whilst he hadn't been messing around, he could admit to himself he had been reckless. Especially with the surprise gift bestowed on them just a few weeks before.

“Emma love, come here and sit with me.” Killian shuffled to make space for her to join him on the bed.

Silently Emma joined Killian on the bed trying not to catch his ankle. She started relaxing when his arms engulfed her and to her shame found herself crying.

“Hey, my love. What's this all about?”

“I'm sorry for shouting at you like that when I came in. I just got scared and I can't fix you without my magic?”

Killian chuckled as he shifted slightly to face his wife. “Oh darling. There's nothing to forgive. I get why you are upset with me. I should have been more careful.” He gently wiped his hand across her cheek cupping it before leaning in to give a soft, yet loving kiss.

Emma was just relaxing into it when Killian pulled back sharply. “Is that coffee I taste on those lovely lips of yours?”

She nodded. “You know how I love my Christmas treat. Besides, I've weighed up the fact that Granny would know something's up if I stopped drinking it, or my hot chocolate.”

Killian placed his hand on her belly, whilst his stump rubbed soothing circles on her upper arm. “That woman still has the strongest werewolf scent glands I've ever known. You do know she'll already be knitting our little girl her baby blanket already, don't you?”

He smiled to himself when he felt Emma nod.

“Are we daft thinking we can do this again?” Emma asked, biting her bottom lip with worry.

“Sweetheart, I'll tell you something I told you not long after I first met you… I've yet to see you fail. You and I make a great team. Even when you hated me and I was full of my quest to seek revenge, we still had each other's backs when we needed to.”

As Killian reminded her of this, Emma found herself boughed up by her husband's encouraging words. “Thank you, I needed that.”

Killian winked at her. “I know, open book remember?” he sassed. “Now where were we?”

They continued their loving embrace, almost forgetting their public setting as Killian wound his fingers through Emma's hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss.

A cough startled the pair. They jumped apart and looked towards the sound. Emma's dad stood in the doorway shielding his eyes.

“Seriously, Dad. After what Henry and I walked in on you and Mom doing?” Emma complained.

“Err, that was different.”

“How?” she probed.

“You're my daughter and he's my best mate. I don't need to see the two of you making out, no matter how happy you both clearly are.”

“Awe, Dave. Has my accident made you sappy? You don't usually admit that I'm your mate, nevermind that I'm your bestie,” Killian sassed.

“Don't push it, Hook. You know I care for you,” David sassed right back. “The nurse is on his way with your boot then you can go. I've already spoken with Snow. She prepared the downstairs bedroom for the two of you so you don't have to manage the stairs anymore than you need to.”

Killian thanked his friend as Emma moved from the bed to allow the nursing team to do their final examination of her husband.

Nurse Anderssen told Killian it was only a sprain so the boot was there to prevent further damage to the surrounding muscles. To Emma he said, “I expect that when your magic returns you'll want to heal him.”

Emma said she would so they showed her where the main area of damage was. She thanked him, watched as they fitted the boot, and listened carefully to the pain relief quantities and times for doses.

They all breathed a sigh of relief as they exited the hospital and made their way to the Joneses car. The drama of the day caught up with them all as they made arrangements to drop David at the harbour to collect his car.

Carol of the Bells provided a relaxing soundtrack to the journey back home. “Fancy watching ‘Home Alone’?” Emma asked.

Killian nodded wearily. “That sounds lovely.”

As they watched the Christmas comedy, Emma gathered their clothes for the next few days, packing them into their weekend bags. Together with the gifts, she set the bags next to the front door in readiness for the early morning quick getaway.

Then joining Killian back in their bed, she snuggled in next to him being careful not to knock his injured ankle. “Goodnight, Killian. I love you.”

“I love you too, my love. Goodnight.”

🎄🎁🎄

The following day, Christmas Eve, Emma and Killian arrived at the farm to find it decorated as if it was the actual North Pole. Silvery lights were strewn across the green trees leading up to the farmhouse itself. This was colourfully decorated with sparkly icicles, a sleigh on the roof and candy canes on the porch.

Snow opened the door before Killian could let Emma know his thoughts, yet Emma voiced them to her mom anyway.

“Wow, Mom. You really went all out this year, didn't you? How did you manage this all?”

“I had help from the dwarves. Turns out they love Christmas as much as me. Who knew?” Snow told her daughter and son-in-law gleefully.

“Who indeed,” Killian replied, nudging Emma conspiratorially.

Emma had to cover her mouth to stop herself from laughing as she entered the house, Killian hobbling behind her on his booted foot.

The inside of the house was almost as bright. The 8ft Christmas Tree was full to the brim with ornaments all of which were meaningful. Tinsel and lights surrounded each piece of furniture and Christmas music played from a CD in the kitchen. The sweet smell of cookies drifted from said room too.

“Mom, Dad!” Hope squealed as she ran down the stairs from her bedroom she used when she stayed with her grandparents. Now aged eight, she still loved Christmas, as did her young Uncle Leo. “Missed you. You got hurt Daddy.”

“I did, but it'll only be for a few days. I'll be better soon, but I'll be a bit slower until then.”

“Ok,” she nodded. “Will cookies help?”

Killian smiled. “Yes, little love. I think they will.”

After they all enjoyed their cookies, Snow announced it was time to finish preparing the vegetables. Allocating David and Killian to this job, much to their disdain, she pulled her daughter aside.

“You've had quite the stressful few days. I bet you'll be glad of a few days where you can rest up and relax.” Snow’s hawk-like eyes scanned her daughter. It was as if she knew Emma's secret but was allowing her the space to tell them all in her own time.

Emma laughed. “I'm not gonna lie, Mom, yesterday was pretty shitty. I just wish I could go back to when Regina and I had that chat about not using magic. I could have then healed Killian's ankle straightaway, you know?”

Her mom nodded, but before she was able to say anything further their chat was disrupted by the men grumbling loudly. Snow rolled her eyes making Emma laugh. “Ignore them. After their silliness yesterday it's the least they can do. Besides, Henry, Jacinta, and Lucy will be here soon. I've got one more bed to make. Help me with that, then I'll run you a nice bath if you'd like one.”

Emma sighed. Over the last few years she'd grown closer to her mom. And now that she was pregnant again she was so very grateful. Telling her she would love one, they headed off in the direction of the bedroom. When she'd first seen the double line on the test her doubts returned, as they did with each of her pregnancies. But this one felt different. She had fully supportive parents and a husband who was the best father to both her children.

🎄🎁🎄

Killian and Hope found Emma after her bath.

“Well hello, Mrs. Jones.” Killian’s eyes glinted with flirtatious desire seeing his wife wrapped in a towel, drying her hair.

Hope groaned loudly reminding them of her presence. It made them all laugh, but broke the heated tension building between the seasoned couple.

“Mom, Grandma gave me a Christmas Eve present and asked me to give you yours. She wants you to wear them tonight,” Hope told her.

Confused, Emma looked across to her husband.

“Not a clue, love. All we know is that Henry and the others will get theirs when they arrive. We'll leave you to get dressed then come back in.”

Emma took the package from her daughter, and after Hope left the room gave Killian the kiss he clearly wanted earlier.

“Careful, Mrs. Jones, you wouldn't want me sporting a trouser tent in front of our families.”

“Wouldn't I?” Emma laughed.

Killian stood. “You're incorrigible.”

Opening up the gifts they'd been given as Emma continued to dress, Killian soon realised what his mother-in-law had planned.

“Bloody hell! Captain Christmas. Emma, your mother wants me to wear a Christmas jumper. I bet yours is the same.”

Now fully dressed, Emma couldn't help but laugh at Killian’s outburst. “You know she likes to throw a curve ball. Now if you'd do me the honour of opening mine for me.”

He did so and the jumper read: ‘Sheriff Snowman.’

“Here's hoping everyone's is as equally ridiculous.”

They were, as Christmas Jumpers traditionally are, very silly indeed. However before either of them could say anything to Snow, the tell tale sign of crunching gravel stopped them.

Two overly excited children also wearing their matching Christmas jumpers appeared from the living room in readiness to greet the newcomers. “Christmas can finally begin!” they cheered before dragging Lucy away to give her jumper to her.

Snow smiled in their wake, filled with joy seeing her house filled with children. Her happiness doubled when her phone chimed with the ringtone assigned to Ruby. It was lovely even after all the years her and Dorothy had moved to Oz that they were able to keep in contact. “Ruby and Dorothy say hello and Happy Christmas to everyone.”

David kissed his wife's forehead just knowing in his heart how much she still missed her friend. “We can take a trip to see them in the New Year if you want?”

Snow nodded and went for a lie down on her own, processing everything happening. Her heart full of happiness.

🎄🎁🎄

Christmas morning dawned bright, crisp, and white. A deep covering of snow had fallen overnight making the farm look even more festive than it already had done the previous day.

Thankfully the adults had already decided to forgo a lie in because when the kids all saw the snow, all they wanted to do was go out and play in it.

Since it was Christmas morning, they all opened one present each then got ready to build a snowman. Adults versus children - with Henry joining Team Kids. It seemed that even after all these years he still saw himself as a big kid.

The children did of course win with their rather fancy version of Captain Hook thanks to the curved twig Hope had found and insisted on using.

Soon the time came to go back inside to warm up and have their big Christmas breakfast. Killian had been pottering inside watching his family whilst preparing the meal. It didn't take long for everyone to warm up and don their jumpers, yet they still managed to catch Killian unaware, singing to himself as he served the food:

O holy night! the stars are brightly shining;

It is the night of the dear Savior's birth.

Long lay the world in sin and error pining,

Till he appeared and the soul felt its worth.

A thrill of hope--the weary world rejoices,

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!

Fall on your knees! O hear the angel voices!

O night divine, O night when Christ was born!

O night divine! O night, O night divine!

“Dad's got a nice voice, hasn't he Henry,” Hope said, turning to her older brother.

“He really does, kid,” Henry agreed, ruffling his sister's hair.

David and Snow reached out for each other's hands simultaneously. As always, completely in sync with one another.

“We've really struck lucky with our family. I've a feeling this is going to be an especially good Christmas, you know,” Snow told David.

“I think you're right, honey.”

Emma approached her husband, wrapping her hand around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder. “Something smells delicious,” she whispered.

Killian rolled his eyes before whispering back, “Emma, love, your parents are standing in the doorway and the kids are at the table. You're really testing me and my ability not to kiss you right now.” He raised an eyebrow smirking at her.

Emma giggled. “What can I say? The baby just loves her baby daddy.”

Killian relinquished and gave her a small peck on the cheek. “That's a starter. Be patient and you'll get what you want from me later,” Killian said to her, winking as he walked away.

Emma muttered under her breath, “Cheeky pirate.”

“That may be so, love, but I'm your cheeky pirate.”

Whilst they were eating their festive food, Emma decided it was the perfect time to announce she was pregnant again.

The joyous news boosted everyone, making them even happier than they'd been before.

“You're right as always, Snow. This Christmas is proving to be an especially good one.”

“Hmm hmm, but I think next year will be even better with a new baby in the family.” Snow smiled across at her daughter, thrilled for her.

“Yeah, Mom and Dad congratulations,” Henry said to them.

Hope, being the curious child she was, asked, “Will I be getting a little brother or a little sister?”

Killian looked to his wife, seeking permission, and when she nodded her ascent told them, “Emma and I are pleased to say that in June, you'll be getting a little sister.”

This made Hope very happy indeed.

The rest of Christmas day was spent opening presents, playing games and enjoying the Christmas music being played on the radio.

🎄🎁🎄

Thanks to the surprise snow shower, Henry, Lucy, and Jacinta, along with Emma, Killian, and Hope stayed slightly longer than planned, however no one minded given the fact they hadn't seen each other for quite some time.

Henry kept the kids entertained by reading stories to them, and when this stopped working they came up with an idea to decide on a baby name. They called it Operation Baby's First Christmas.

Lucy suggested Jovie after her favourite character.

That was vetoed as too much alliteration just sounded silly. Also because the baby wasn't actually going to be a Christmas baby

In the run up to Christmas, Hope and Leo had spent quite a bit of time looking through some family history books that David was compiling. Leo nudged her and whispered his idea to her. She smiled and nodded.

“We think it should be Alice Ruth. Alice was Dad's mom and Ruth was Mom's grandma. They're also really nice names.”

Henry couldn't have loved his younger sister anymore if he tried. “I think that sounds lovely. They'll love them.”

“We do, sweetheart. Thank you,” Emma said through tears.

🎄🎁🎄

The following day, just as the snow was starting to clear they felt a soft ripple move across them. Unlike the whoosh when magic returned previously, this was a warming sensation that even those without it could feel.

Emma immediately sought out Killian. “Let's get that ankle of yours healed.”

“Aye, my love. Having one appendage out of use is acceptable, but a second is too much to bear.”

Sitting on the edge of the sofa Emma removed the boot, raised his ankle onto her knee then rubbed her hands together. Holding them above the sore spot she felt her magic transition from her and watched in awe as the bruising went away.

“You've certainly not lost your flair for healing, have you?

“Regina? When did you get here?” Emma asked.

“I, as you all have said in the past, poofed across just now. I wanted to see my family.”

Emma and Regina decided there and then that taking the magic away had been a bad idea and one never to be repeated.

Eventually the Jones and Mills families left the farm. It wouldn't be for long after all since Snow and David would be staying with Regina for New Year's.

When they did arrive back in Storybrooke, Henry and his family went straight to Regina's where to his surprise he found Robin waiting.

Regina's explanation for his presence? She'd decided she deserved her happy ending so had been working on a way of bringing him back. This was the Christmas she found success with her plan.

Henry was thrilled for his mother and couldn't wait to tell his other mom, dad, and sister.

The Joneses arrived quickly not wanting to waste a moment before they saw their friend again.

“Ah, welcome back mate. It's good to see you again.” Killian gave his old friend a warm hug in greeting.

“It's certainly nice being back here, that's for sure.”

Once they'd established he wasn't going anywhere, Killian winked badly at his family and friends. “So it turns out that Robins are for more than just Christmas then?”

Last Christmas had been less than ideal. 

Henry’s usual enthusiasm had been dampened by a rejection letter the week before from the college he’d applied to as his early-decision. They all had known that Brown was a “reach” school, but he’d had such a vivid picture in his head of himself as an Ivy League student, and his disappointment was a blow to his holiday spirit. 

Hope, meanwhile, had recovered from the virus she’d picked up at her preschool (which Emma called the “germ factory”) by December twenty-third, but not before passing it on to both of her doting parents. (“She gave it to you, and you passed it to me!” insisted each of them once they’d recovered, with a grin and a friendly shove). Between the illness and her age – barely three years old in December – her parents wondered how much of the season she’d even remember. 

To top it all off, there had been a heat wave, with temperatures hitting the 50s. The expected snow had been replaced with gray skies and rain. 

No, last Christmas hadn’t been the kind they write carols about. 

But this year was a fresh start. Henry would be home from college, and he was bringing a friend. “Not a girlfriend,” he added quickly (and unprompted). “Just a friend… who is a girl. Make sure Killian knows that too, Mom. Tell him not under any circumstances to use the word girlfriend, okay? And please don’t embarrass me.” 

It was a good thing Henry couldn’t see how high Emma’s eyebrows were over the phone, or the size of her smile. “We would never! But doesn’t her family want her to spend the holidays with them?” 

“She will! But Hanukkah is super early this year, so she can spend the end of it at home and then come stay with us from like, the fifteenth, if that’s okay…?” 

Emma took a moment to confer with her husband, although she knew he wouldn’t object.

“Will she be needing her own room, do you think?” Killian asked, in a voice loud enough to carry through the phone. “Or would she be sharing Henry’s?” Emma gave him a look, while trying not to laugh audibly. 

“Hilarious,” Henry said flatly. “She says she’s cool with the fold-out couch in the den. But maybe I should give her my room and take the couch myself? I do want to be a gentleman… I’ve gotta go study for my final tomorrow, but tell Killian I’ll call him about this later if he lays off the room-sharing cracks.”

Emma conveyed the message to Killian, who looked very pleased to be consulted. “See you soon, Henry!” she said. “We can’t wait to meet your friend-who-is-a-girl!” 

“Mo-oom!” Henry groaned, reminding her forcefully that although he was living on his own on the other side of the country, he was still very much a teenager. “Look, this is her first time doing Christmas, and I just want it to be perfect.” 

Great. He just wanted it to be perfect.

No pressure.

Emma had been keeping an eye on Henry’s flight status all day. His ticket included a layover in Atlanta. He and his mother had been texting back and forth as his flight to Atlanta got more and more delayed, and she got more and more nervous about his connection. The plan had been for him to arrive in ATL with two hours to spare. When his first flight finally got off the ground, it was two hours late. And Emma hadn’t heard from him since. 

All anyone waiting for Henry Swan in Maine knew was that the flight from Atlanta to Maine had taken off on time. There’d been some anxious discussion about whether they should wait to hear from him before leaving for the airport, but Storybrooke was a 45 minute drive away with good traffic. They’d weighed the risk of a fruitless 2-hour round trip to Portland with a 4-year-old if Henry had missed his flight, with the risk of not being there to greet Henry when he arrived home for the first time since Thanksgiving.

So here they were, camped out by the baggage claims, as the sky darkened through the windows. Traffic had been unexpectedly light, which was usually good news. But since they still hadn’t heard from Henry, all it meant was that they’d had to park and come in instead of driving up to meet him. Now, they sat, watching suitcase after suitcase being picked up by a throng of travelers who all seemed to be suffering from a severe case of Not-Henry Disorder. Killian was stroking the back of his little daughter, who had gotten increasingly cranky for every hour past her missed nap, but whose pouty questions about her brother’s whereabouts had finally turned to Zs. She had fallen asleep in the middle of yet another “Where’s Henryyyy?” 

Emma was distracting herself from the dwindling luggage on the carousel – not one of which seemed to be the distinctive green suitcase she’d bought as a going away present – by texting Henry for probably the forty-eighth consecutive time with no response. 

“I’m sure he’s perfectly fine, love,” Killian said softly. 

“Of course he is,” Emma said, trying to make herself believe it. “I just want him to be perfectly fine at home, not perfectly fine and stranded in Atlanta for Christmas.” 

“He’s a clever lad,” Killian assured her. “I’m certain he can manage to find his way home sometime in the next two weeks.” 

Emma managed a weak smile, but looked intently back down at her phone. Killian shifted to glance over her shoulder at the text chain, but he must have jostled Hope awake. Immediately, she started another high-pitched “Henryyy!”  Emma closed her eyes for a moment, praying for patience. 

“Hey, kid! Miss me?” 

Emma’s eyes shot open even as Hope shoved her way out of Killian’s arms – only his finely honed dad-reflexes saved her from falling straight to the floor. Hope didn’t seem to notice, launching herself at her brother, who caught her with an “oof!” He spun her once, making her squeal with delight, and finally turned to the incredibly relieved adults of the family. 

“Hey Mom!” he said, kissing Emma on the cheek. And surely he hadn’t just leaned down to do it, right? She held him tight for a moment, so glad he was safe. When she let him go, he finished up his greetings. “Hey Killian!” he said, throwing the arm that wasn’t full of Hope around his stepfather.

“Welcome home, lad.” Killian said, clapping Henry on the back in a way that reminded Emma of how he’d so recently been patting Hope. She wiped her eyes surreptitiously, just so glad her family was safe and together. She was pretty sure she hid it successfully under a yawn. Killian put an arm around her, either because he thought she was tired or because he’d noticed. 

“So,” Killian said, “you made your connection after all.” 

“Had to run for it,” Henry grinned. “But uhh… my luggage wasn’t so lucky. The lady over there says it’s still in Georgia.” He pointed behind him at the information desk, which explained why he’d come from the wrong direction. “I filled out a form to get it mailed to me. But hey!” he continued, ever the optimist. “I’ve got my laptop in my carry on. And I have plenty of clothes at home, right?” He smiled sheepishly. “And maybe a spare toothbrush? Oh, and a coat… it was almost 70 in Santa Barbara when I left, so I packed it.” 

“I think we can scrounge those up,” Emma said, “but real quick –” She held up her phone to show a screen full of one-sided texts. “Why haven’t I heard from you for the last eight hours?” 

Henry winced. “When I got to Atlanta, I had to sprint for my plane. I was like the last one on, and the captain made the airplane mode announcement… By the time I remembered to text you, we were in the air!” 

“And after you landed in Portland?” she prompted. 

“Okay, so… you know how you told me last night to make super sure my phone was charged?” 

“Vividly,” Emma said flatly.  

“Well, I did! I was so careful to charge it that I left the charger plugged in in my dorm. And then my flight was delayed so long, that I might have… started playing Hearthstone on my phone.”

“Henry!” 

“So by the time I got here it was pretty much dead.” He gave her his most wide-eyed, innocent face. “But what else could I have done? I was so bored!” 

“You didn’t bring a book?” 

“Mom. That was for the plane!” 

“What about your laptop?”

“Oh…” Henry thought for a moment. “Oh, yeah.” 

The brief silence that ensued was broken by a little voice from the vicinity of Henry’s shoulder. “Henry is going to tell me a story now,” she pronounced. 

He did not finish the thought, but must have felt he’d gotten his point across and purposely set off to engage Philip Briar who was also awaiting the return of his wife, Aurora, from the facilities. Killian had not the opportunity to get to know their latest business partner very well, but Briar seemed a decent enough fellow; one who would fit in rather nicely with the Jones brothers and Graham Humbert. To say nothing of the potential new mergers and acquisitions such a partnership offered them. Many of the other men in attendance were, in a sense, auditioning for just such an opportunity. Earnestly hoping they might find themselves tied to the Jones’ interests in the new year. And the capital that came with such a lucrative alliance.

Not that the Joneses hadn’t benefited from mergers and partnerships over the years. Humbert was proof of that. The intel he’d brought with him concerning one of their biggest rivals, the Mills, had been invaluable. As was the man himself. Killian had never met anyone with sharper instincts and steadfast resolve. He was as cunning as he was charming, with a boyish air about him. It was the latter quality that made him likeable enough for others’ defenses to drop, lulling them into a false sense of security before they realized they’d conceded the upper hand.

Indeed, Humbert was a valuable asset. Killian almost wished he could lure him into the ‘off the books’ sector he’d created, but it was simply too risky. He needed to keep his clandestine affairs as separate from his legitimate ones as possible. He’d already mixed the two with Emma, and while he did not regret the outcome thus far, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t concerned for her each and every time she’d made a run for him.

He still hadn’t recovered from her most recent close call.

“Pleasant thoughts?” Emma’s voice cut into Killian’s musings and he forced a smile (though he did not have to force it for long), hoping his turmoil would go unnoticed.

“Pleasant enough,” he crooned, circling his arms around her waist.

Emma hummed, dubiously, and scrutinized his face. “Applesauce.” The admonishment was delivered in a teasing tone, her raised brows and cocked head emphasizing her confidence that she’d caught him out in the falsehood. Wrapping her hand about the back of his neck, her fingers toyed with his hair sending a ripple of want down his spine. “Wanna try that again?”

“It’s nothing, Swan,” he assured her. “Just thinking about business, which…” he repositioned his hold on her, a grin spreading across his face as a new song began to play on the gramophone. “I shall gladly put off until a more appropriate time. For now. Shall we?”

“We shall,” Emma giggled, following his lead and joining the others who were already cutting a rug to the lively tune.

After a few vigorous dances, a slow speed 78 was put on, allowing everyone to catch their breaths and enjoy a more intimate moment with their partners.

“Having a good time, love?” Killian inquired, tucking an errant strand of her hair that had worked its way loose of its pins behind her ear.

“I am,” she said with a contented sigh. “Tonight has been lovely. Much of the stress about the weekend is gone and I’m really looking forward to the holiday now.”

“I’m glad,” Killan replied with a slight chuckle in his tone. “Though, you may come to regret those words tomorrow when our guests are gone and it’s just our families.”

A smile lifted the corners of Emma’s lips even as she confessed, “I didn’t say all the stress was gone. Only some.”

“Well, you know…” he drawled, running his tongue salaciously over his bottom lip. “I happen to know a very effective way to alleviate stress from one’s body.”

“Do you, now?” Emma replied, pulling her bottom lip teasingly between her teeth.

“Aye,” Killian purred. “And I have no qualms in defying my brother’s edict.” His fingers skimmed down her bare back, a trail of raised fresh left in their wake that made Emma visibly tremble. “Tell me what room you’re in and I’ll come to you later tonight.”

Emma’s brows scrunched together as though she were confused by the request. “You… You don’t know which room I’m in?”

“My git of a brother refused to tell me, as if that would keep me from finding out.”

A sly smile tugged at her lips and a saucy expression took over her exquisite features. “And what makes you think you’ll get that information from me?”

“Come now, love,” Killian countered, his voice dropping to a lower register, a timbre he knew made her toes curl. “You would deny us both the pleasure of my having that knowledge?”

“I’m not saying I wouldn’t find it pleasurable,” Emma shot back in a husky tone. “I simply don’t think it would be good form of me to blatantly go against my host’s wishes.”

“You’re serious?” Killian asked, a bit astonished at Emma’s resolve.

“What’s the matter, Hook?” she taunted, evoking his code name. “I thought you loved a challenge.”

Pulling her flush against him, Killian growled, “That I do, Swan. That. I. Do.”

~/~

It was well after midnight before the party goers retired to their rooms, and later still for the house to become quiet and settled, the servants having to finish their work before they could retire as well. Killian waited until he was certain all were abed, not wishing to run into anyone in the corridors and start tongues wagging. With some sly questioning, he’d been able to narrow down which room his Swan occupied through the process of elimination. All he had to do was make his way to the other end of the expansive house without being detected.

Creeping out from his room, he tread lightly along the carpets, thankful for the soft glow of the sconces that remained illuminated in the hallway. His ears strained for any hint of movement; his body tense and ready to dart into one of the common rooms at a moment’s notice. Quick strides had him crossing the open expanse at the top of the staircase, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he made it to the east wing.

That was until a figure stepped out from the shadows. A weary eyed footman who did his best to maintain proper posture despite his evident fatigue.

Knowing he’d already been spotted, Killian continued forward, his demeanor exuding the confidence that he belonged there, and began to sidestep the servant.

The footman blocked him.

“Excuse me, my good man.” Killian attempted to step around him once more, but was again thwarted.

The footman’s Adam’s apple bobbed nervously at Killian’s incredulous look, and his voice shook slightly as he stated, “I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Jones, but I am on strict orders from your brother to not let you set foot in the east wing.”

“You can’t be serious.” Of course, Killian knew he was absolutely serious. He’d been a fool not to anticipate something like this.

“I’m afraid I am. His exact works were, and I quote, ‘Tell my little brother he is prohibited from setting foot in the east wing.’”

The use of that particular word - prohibited - was not lost on Killian. Seems he was resolute to uphold some sort of prohibition this weekend, and since he’d wavered on the alcohol he chose to double down on the pre-marital relations.

Wanker.

Before Killian could respond, a door several feet down the hall opened and a man’s head poked out. Killian groaned internally when he saw who it was.

“Jones?” David said, exiting his room, carefully closing the down behind him, then tightening his robe as he made his way over. “I thought I heard voices. What are you…” He paused as realization set in. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to sneak into my sister’s room.”

Slipping his hands into his own robe, Killian nonchalantly rocked back on his heels and replied. “Very well, then. I won’t.”

Taking a menacing step forward, David grit out, “I oughta knock your block off.”

Killian relaxed his cocky demeanor, his expression turning serious in the face of the man’s justified ire.

“You’d be well within your rights to do so,” Killian conceded, causing David to blanch. “I won’t even attempt to defend myself.

“Gentlemen, please,” the footman implored. “Our guests are all asleep. What would Mr. Jones say to having the entire house woken up to fisticuffs in the hallway?”

David unclenched his fists and studied Killian with a skeptical eye, still taken aback by the man’s response.

“Out of respect for my host,” David began in a calmer, but no less firm tone. “I shall refrain from any untoward actions, however…” His stare was piercing as he delivered the words Killian had long expected to receive from the man. “I think it’s time you and I had a talk about your intentions with my sister.”

“I agree,” Killian replied. Then, gesturing to a door just off the landing, he suggested, “Shall we do so in Belle’s library.”

“After you.”

David followed Killian into the freshly remodeled library, adorned with wall to wall bookcases that stretched to the ceiling. Out of all the renovations, Killian knew this room was his sister-in-law’s pride and joy. He only hoped, surrounded by words of wisdom and the knowledge of a variety of interests from those who had come before, that they would help keep the present topic and those wrestling with it in the here and now, civil and level-headed.

“You inquired about my intentions towards Emma,” Killian began, positioning himself next to the grand fireplace and allowing himself to be backed against the wall (metaphorically and literally) as a show of respect to David’s position as Swan’s elder brother. “I assure you they are entirely honorable.”

Scoffing, David replied, “Forgive me if I find that difficult to believe. Don’t forget,” He raised his finger and wagged it at Killian in the same insufferable way Liam did. “I know your reputation. Emma isn’t some conquest.”

“I wouldn’t carry around a two-thousand dollar diamond ring in my pocket for someone I only saw as loot.”

David’s eyes grew wide, and his brows shot up into his hairline. After gaping at Killian like a fish for a moment, he stammered, “You…You bought her a ring? An engagement ring? When?”

A soft smile lifted the corners of Killian’s mouth and he confessed, “The day she finally agreed to accept my dinner invitation and give me a chance to win her heart.” Stepping forward, Killian closed the distance and placed his hand on David’s shoulder, still tense with uncertainty. “Mate, I’ve known Emma was the one for a very long time now.”

“Then why haven’t you proposed? What are you waiting for?”

“I’m waiting for her,” Killian stated, thinking it was obvious. “Whatever we become is as much up to her as it is to me, and when I get down on my knee I want her to be as sure and as ready for that step as I am.”

David stood there, clearly gobsmacked, unable to utter a response. Taking advantage of the man’s current state, Killian added, “There was also the matter of… your blessing.”

That snapped the man back into action. “My blessing? You want my blessing?”

“Of course, I do,” Killian affirmed. “You are Emma’s only family. She loves you more than… well, anyone, probably.” And Killian did not begrudge that one bit. “You’ve carried the duty of her protection and well-being since she was a child, and I… I want to know that you trust and have confidence in me to take on that honor.”

The war was evident in the man’s eyes, the fight to reconcile what he knew of the rake pursuing his sister with the sincerity pouring out from the scoundrel’s heart.

“I don’t expect it tonight, mate,” Killian assured him, letting him off the hook. “I’ve had to prove to Emma over these many months that I am not the same man I was. That I’ve changed. That I’m trying to be better. I want to be a better man… for her.” Swallowing tightly, Killian clenched his jaw and dropped his eyes as he tried to extinguish the guilt burning in his gut as he confessed, “I have a ways to go in many regards, but not when it comes to her. I’m in this for the long haul.”

“You’ve given me much to think about,” David said, softly. “But you’re right,” Killian’s head snapped up and it was now he who was taken aback. Never in all their association had the man ever looked at him with respect. The expression he was giving now was damn near… friendly. “Ultimately, it’s up to Emma. And I learned long ago to not get in her way when she sets her mind to something.” Tilting his head forward, he gave Killian a significant look and added, “Even if that something is as reckless as racing.”

Reaching up to paw a patch of skin begins his ear, Killian shot David a chagrined expression and merely shrugged his shoulders, refusing to confirm nor deny that man’s statement.

“But that’s a topic for another time,” David said on a stifled yawn. “I suggest we both get some sleep… in our own rooms.”

“Aye,” Killian agreed, unwilling to do or say anything that might derail the progress they’d made as he followed David back into the hall, where the footman remained at his post. “I’ll bid you goodnight.”

Nodding farewell to both men, Killian made his way back to his room. Although he had not made it to his desired destination, his efforts had not been in vain. His step was a bit lighter down the dimly lit hallway, and a contented sigh released heavily from his chest when he entered the room, leaning back against the closed door with a swirl of elation (slightly tinged with disappointment that he would not being seeing his Swan that night) zipping through his chest.

A chest he grabbed in startled response to a voice calling out from his bed.

“I thought you’d never come back,” Emma said, stretching as she sat up from beneath the covers. “What took you so long?”

“Swan?! You nearly gave me a heart attack! What are you… When did you… How did you get to my room?”

“I used the secret passage.”

“I beg your pardon?” Killian said, certain he had misheard her.

“The secret passage,” Emma repeated, a sassy and amused expression taking up the entirety of her face.

“What secret passage?”

“The one uncovered during the restoration that leads from my room, to a secret hallway downstairs, to another set of stairs that leads…” Moving off the bed, she sauntered to a bookcase in the corner of the room and pulled on one of the volumes, causing a hidden door to spring open. “Here.”

Flabbergasted, Killian marched over to take a closer look. “How did you--”

“Belle told me when she showed me my room.”

Spinning around, Killian faced Emma in shock. “She did? Why? I mean… Why just you? Wh--”

“Come here.” Emma took his hand and led him back to the bed, allowing them to both get settled before explaining. “She promised Liam not to tell either of us when he realized we were assigned these rooms, but thought he was being a ridiculous prude in making us stay in separate bedrooms. I thought she would have told you, too, but when you asked what room I was in…”

“You couldn’t help but have a little fun?” he accused, though his tone carried no weight of agitation.

“Something like that.”

“Wait.” Killian said, agitation now hitting him full force. “Liam knew about the passage?”

“Of course,” Emma laughed. “It’s his house afterall.”

“That’s it,” Killian said, throwing up his hands. “I am going to murder my brother.”

“That might put a damper on the holiday.”

The two of them could only gaze at the other and laugh at the absurdity of it all. Once their amusement was spent, Emma tucked her bottom lip between her teeth and dropped her gaze to where her fingers were lazily drawing senseless patterns against his skin.

“You know,” she began, hesitantly. Wetting her lips and swallowing nervously, she took a deep breath and said, “There’s a way to ensure we never have to have separate bedrooms again.”

Killian’s heart skipped, then began to hammer loudly within his chest. Sitting up, he crooked a finger beneath her chin and lifted her face so he could address her eye to eye. “Swan. Are you suggesting we get…married?”

With a small shrug and hopeful expression, she replied, “Would that be such a mad idea?”

“Well,” he drawled out, reaching over her to the bedside table and retrieving something from the drawer. “If it is, then…” Opening the black velvet box, he murmured, “We’re both a bit mad.”

“Oh, Killian!” Emma gasped.

Shifting his position, he pressed his knees into the mattress and held out the ring. “Emma Swan Nolan. Will you marry me?”

With tears glistening in her eyes, Emma leaned forward and carded her fingers through his hair. Pressing their foreheads together, she murmured against his lips, “What do you think?”

From the way she kissed the holy hell out him, Killian gathered it was a yes.

The End.

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Debunked

“Seriously!” Emma eyed the shoebox sized room crammed with a wooden bunkbed, a dresser under the narrow window, and nothing else but five feet of open space between the bed and the opposite wall. 

“I’m sorry, the listing said there were five rooms, ten beds, they didn’t mention…” Mary Margaret peered inside, scrunched her nose and continued, “a bunk bed.” 

“Look I already agreed to share a room with Liam’s brother, but I seriously thought it was a two bed situation, not that!” Emma flailed her arms at the contraption, “if either one of us climb that thing it will collapse.” 

“Are you suggesting I’m fat, love?” Killian’s lilted British accent interrupted the two friends’ discussion.

Killian strolled down the narrow hallway, carrying a canvas bag over his shoulder. 

“Have you seen the room?” Emma stepped back and pointed at the tiny space, “we can’t sleep in a bunkbed, the one on the bottom will get crushed.” 

Killian slipped up next to Emma and leaned in to whisper, “I like being underneath.” 

Emma huffed and shoved him away, “Look at it.” 

Killian did, dropping his bag and strode in to inspect the space, he grabbed the railing of the bunkbed and rattled the frame. The wood cracked and groaned under the strain, “nope that will not hold, not even one of us.” Killian turned his focus on Mary Margaret, “you were in charge of the booking, how did you miss this contraption?” 

“I’m sorry, but the listing didn’t say anything about a bunk bed, I would have not booked it, neither of us have kids so we wouldn’t need one.” She found her phone and tapped furiously for a few moments before showing the screen to Emma and Killian, “Look, it says ten beds.” 

Killian walked over and squinted at the screen, “aye, give them a call and see if they have another cabin.” 

“You’re crazy if you think there will be a vacant cabin up here.” Ruby had pushed her way inside the small room, her eyes twinkling in mirth as she took in the small space. “It’s new years eve in a few days and this place is freaking popular, didn’t you know Killian?” 

“Bloody hell.” Killian pushed his hands through his hair and shared a look with Emma, “any suggestions Swan?” 

Emma glared at the Brit who’d come to be part of their group of friends when he’d joined his brother to live in the US six months ago. Liam had worked alongside David at the local sheriffs station for a year, settling down with a woman he met at the town hall. Elsa had been smitten with the handsome man and they’d married only six months later. When Killian had come for the wedding he never returned home, having fallen in love with the quiet life in Storybrook.

“Place the mattresses on the floor.” Ruby suggested with a shrug, “they’re quite narrow and could fit between the wall and the bunkbed, yeah?” She strode over and started to tug at the bottom mattress. 

Emma groaned, “we don’t have much else of an option, share the floor space or risk crashing the bunkbed.”

“Aye, I guess we must endure sleeping on the floor next to a beautiful and feisty swan.” He winked at her and Emma glowered at the obvious attempt to charm her. The man had been a flirt for far too long, and Emma had to admit he’d managed to crack a few new holes in her usually tightly built wall she’d constructed around her heart. 

Ruby slapped his arm, “you better behave. I know my girl here can fend for herself, but I will have no qualms about a kick to the balls if you hurt her.” 

Killian lifted his hands in mock surrender, “Wouldn’t even think to, love.” 

Emma pulled back from the room, not ready to process the fact that she would be sleeping next to Killian, she went on the hunt for some large pillows to create a makeshift wall between them. Mary Margaret followed her but she went into the kitchen, mumbling about starting early on some dinner prep. Ever the mother hen of their group, it was usually her who organized the food.

Emma strode into the large open-spaced living room, the panoramic windows framing the view of the snowcapped mountains outside. She picked up three oversized pillows from the enormous couch and walked back to the kiddie room. 

“Emma.” Mary Margaret called out from the kitchen.

“Yeah.” Emma stepped back and walked into the kitchen, “what’s up?” 

“Are you okay with the sleeping arrangements?” 

“Yeah why not?” The lie slipping over her lips tasted bitter, but she didn’t want her friend to feel too bad about the whole situation. 

“I mean…” Mary Margaret shuffled a few bowls around, arranging them around the chopping board preparing to begin a salad. “... you know… I’ve seen how you look at the guy.” 

“Oh, yeah and how do I look at him?” Emma glowered at her long time friend, sometimes it was freaking hard being the only single person in their group. Until Killian arrived and took center stage with all his charm and impossible blue eyes. Emma shook her head, not thinking about blue eyes right now.

“I don’t know, I feel as if you see him beyond his scoundrel facade and all that charm.” Mary Magaret fanned herself, “I mean any woman with a pulse sees the potential in that man.” 

“Mary Margaret!” Emma exclaimed with a gasp, nearly dropping her load in utter shock, “I would never have thought you’d ever think that about anyone else but your prince charming.” 

“Shush,” Mary Margaret waved her hand towards the rest of the house, “not so loud, I only acknowledged the finer details of the man. I love David, and only David.” She smirked, “don’t worry, you won’t have any competition from my end.” 

“It’s not a contest, and don’t get any ideas about what should or could happen, I’m not interested in the bloke.” 

Mary Margaret chuckled, “you’re already picking up his British slang.” 

“Shut up.” Emma huffed then added, “Don't worry I’m fine with the sleeping arrangements here, it wasn’t exactly your fault the listing didn’t match.” 

“I know, but I will point it out in my review of this cabin.” 

“Hmm, sounds like a plan.” 

Emma walked back to the room with the pillows and dumped them in the middle of their mock double bed.

“What’s this?” Killian asked from his seat on the bottom bunk as he rummaged in his duffle bag.

“A wall to make sure you don’t get any ideas in your sleep.” Emma crouched down and placed the pillows in a line. “What are you doing?” 

“Locating my gloves and scarf, Kristof announced a snowball fight in five.” Killian pulled out a bright red scarf and wrapped it around his neck, “wanna join us?” 

“Hmm, I might.” Emma mused and located her own bag out in the hallway, “prepare to be throttled with snow, Jones.” 

“Shiver me timbers you have me all scared now, Swan.” Killian laughed as he walked past her and nudged her with his shoulder, “Perhaps you should join the winning team.” 

“Oh I plan to.” Emma knew their friends were competitive and usually ended up in a battle between the men and woman. “But I’m sticking with my girls. You won’t even know what hit you.” 

Killian laughed as he called out to his brother about the snowball fight. 

The afternoon was glorious with the forest as a backdrop of snowcovered mountains, the pine trees covered in a thick layer of snow. They paired up in two teams, women vs men. 

To Emma’s delight she managed to haul several bull’s eye hits at Killian.

Hours later, after they consumed the reheated lasagna dinner Mary Margaret had prepared before they drove up into the mountains,everyone gathered around the large indoor fireplace with mugs of hot cocoa, a few spiked with rum. 

There was a nice buzz rolling inside Emma as she watched her friends laugh and joke about the day’s snowball fight. She glanced over at Killian and realized he’d been watching her intently for some time now, his gaze never wavering when he locked eyes with her. Damn his confidence! Emma sipped her coca and closed her eyes, she didn’t to look at him to know that she might be falling for the charm he’d put on all day long. Perhaps even longer.

When her mug was empty she rose to her feet and went into the kitchen to rinse off the mug. She vaguely noticed someone else joining her and when she turned around she saw Killian at the door, his mug held in his hand.

“I’ll be going to bed, give me ten minutes before you come inside?” Emma asked 

“Aye, I’ll do that, love.” He lifted his mug in a salute and walked into the kitchen and Emma slipped out to find her sleep wear and toothbrush. Their room had no ensuite bathroom so they had to use the small one out in the hallway. 

She tried not to focus on the fact that Killian would join her soon. 

*****

Killian spent several minutes rinsing off the mug, his mind whirling with thoughts of how the night could end up. He might claim he was a gentleman but his body had clearly not gotten the same memo. His blood rushed  at the thought of spending the night right next to Emma. The woman was feisty and had a bite that could match her namesake, but damn if he wasn’t intrigued by the blond, adoptive sister of David’s, his brother’s colleague, and his friend. He knew he had to behave. He recalled the strange prolonged looks they’d shared today. Every time it was heated and he swore he’d seem something akin longing in her green eyes, but he wasn’t about to risk losing friends over this infatuation.

“Killian?” David’s voice sounded from the door. Killian placed the mug in the dishwasher and turned to the man he respected and whom he didn’t want to piss off if he ended up hurting Emma. 

“Aye?” 

“I just want to remind you that you’ll have a whole lot to answer for if you hurt my sister.” David gave Killian what could only be described as a fierce cop look, stern and with a promise of hardship should he not follow orders. 

Killian slumped against the countertop and rubbed his face, “aye I know, mate, I won’t muck it up between me and Emma.” 

“You better not, I like you, but my sister comes first.” David crossed his arms over his chest.

“Listen, mate, I know your sister is important and I won’t be doing anything that she wouldn’t agree to.” Killian walked over and clasped the other man’s arm, “Your sister will not be deprived of her virtue.” 

“Killian, I swear, if you…” 

“David!” Mary Maragret’s voice interrupted David’s words. “Please be nice, don’t pull the big brother card on the poor man, it’s not their fault they have to sleep next to one another.” 

Killian smirked and tipped his head to the couple, “I bid you both a good night.” He walked out to the rest of their group, “Goodnight to the house, see ya all in the morning.” 

“Do not poke the Swan; she might bite off your bits if you’re not careful.” Liam called out with a laugh. 

Elsa slapped her husband's shoulder, “be nice to your brother.” 

Kristof chuckled, “better watch your mouth Liam or you won’t have any fun tonight.” He reached over and grabbed Anna’s hand and pulled her closer and kissed her temple, “how about we do as the wolf girl and her hunter did, find our bedchambers and have some bit of wintery fun between the sheets.” 

Anna went beat red, her cheeks flamed in anger and something that looked like desire.They hurried out of the living room, hand in hand and two remaining couples chuckled and Killian shook his head. 

“Good night.” Killian said and walked down towards the kiddie room. He knocked, “are ya decent, Swan?” 

“Yeah, you can come in.” Emma called out. 

Killian walked inside and gave Emma a tight smile. She lay nestled up against the wall, and the covers pulled up around her shoulders, hiding whatever she wore to bed. 

He quickly found his toothbrush and realized he had no form of sleepwear with him, “Bloody hell!” 

“What?” 

“I… eh… ya mind if I sleep topless.” He looked over his shoulder at her and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of her. 

Her eyes gleamed in the faint light coming from the small beside lamp by the bunkbed, her hair sprawled out around her head in a halo of golden locks. 

“Eh, why… you didn’t bring pajamas or something?” 

“Must have slipped my mind .” Killian pushed his hands through his hairs, “sorry, I would sleep in my clothes if you…” 

“Don’t… it would be far too uncomfortable for you, I don’t mind.” Emma shifted around and lay on her side, one arm resting on top of the covers, showing off a bare shoulder. Only a thin spaghetti strap showed that she wore anything to bed. 

Killian closed his eyes not wishing to picture what exactly she wore. “I’ll just…” He cleared his throat and lifted his toothbrush up, “you know…” 

“Brush your teeth?” Emma smirked. 

“Aye.” Killian rushed out of the room and took a few calming breaths before he quickly finished his nightly routine.

Before entering the room again he took a few moments to compose himself, the woman laying behind the door had begun haunting his dream alarmingly fast . Not in the horror kind of way, but more in the way of waking up each morning with desire coursing through his veins, most often ending with him having to relieve the pressure in the bath each morning. 

He slowly opened the door and asked, “okay if I come in?” 

“Yup, I’m still decent.” Emma called back. 

Killian walked inside and dumped his toiletries in his bag and glanced over at Emma. Her green eyes followed his every move with a glint of curiosity sparkling in their depths. He had no idea what that meant, but he rubbed behind his ear, clearing his throat. “Do you mind?” He grabbed the hem of his shirt, lifting his eyebrows hoping she would get the hint. 

“Don’t mind if you do.” Emma smiled and tugged her hand under her cheek, her eyes still focused on him. 

Killian groaned, “bloody hell, you’re not making it easy for me to be a gentleman here, love.” 

“Hmm, go on.” She motioned with her free hand for him to continue. 

Killian rubbed the material of his shirt between his thumb and forefinger contemplating his options. She didn’t seem to mind and to be honest neither did he. 

“Suit yourself.” He lifted the gray henley over his head and tugged down his undershirt that had lifted up, showing off his stomach. When he looked back at Emma her eyes looked a little dazed.

“Emma?” 

“Uh?” She blinked and tore her gaze upwards focusing on his face.

“Close your eyes.” He reached for the button of his jeans, giving her a pointed look, it wasn’t as if this wasn’t a fantasy of his, but they still hadn’t crossed the line where it was okay to let his desire show on full display so to speak. He shifted his stance hoping she couldn’t see the bulge in his jeans, he hoped the shadows from the dimmed night light were able to hide just how turned on he was right now. 

Emma pouted, “why?” 

“I’m trying to be a gentleman.” He lifted one eyebrow

“Alright, alright, I’ll close my eyes.” She flipped to her back and covered her eyes with both hands.

“No peeking.” He muttered as he quickly pushed his jeans down his legs and dropped them on top of his duffel bag. Turning back to the bed he caught her peaking between two fingers, she giggled and closed the gap. “Bloody hell, woman.” 

Killian quickly dropped down to the mattress and crawled under the covers, now more than happy for the pillow wall she’d built earlier. Even if it did take up a bit of the already narrow bed, it would hide his arousal. 

He flopped down the pillow between their heads and pulled her hand away, “Safe to look now.” 

Emma turned on her side, looking at him over the pillow, “Sleep tight.” 

“Don’t let the bedbugs bite.” Killian added with a grin. 

Emma grimaced, “sure hope there are none of those.” 

Killian laughed, “I’m sure there isn’t any, this seems like a nice and clean cabin.” 

“They just need to update their listing.” Emma mumbled. 

“This isn’t so bad, is it.” He turned to his back and looked up, the bunkbed towering over them to his left, and the wall closing in on them to Emma’s right. 

“Nah I guess it’s alright, certainly not my first time sleeping on the floor.” Emma mumbled then cleared her throat. 

When Killian looked over at her and she rubbed her eyes as if trying to forget some past traumas. “Aye, I know.” He rolled over and rubbed her shoulder. 

“I still remember the first night I came to the Nolans, they had this princess bed all made ready for me to sleep, only me, not sharing with one or two other random kids.” She inhaled deeply. 

“They got a new princess in the family.” Killian smiled. 

“Once they finally adopted me I was certain of my place and asked for the frilly pink lace to be removed, not exactly the princess type.” Emma rolled over to face him as she grimaced. 

“Could have fooled me.” He tucked  her golden hair behind her ear, the strands feeling soft and silky between his fingers. 

She inhaled sharply and her eyes blew wide, her pink tongue licked her lower lip, “What are you doing?” 

“Not exactly sure.” He pulled back and scratched behind his ear, “Couldn’t ask for a better bed partner than you.” 

Her face heated in a deep blush, “What if I snore?” 

“I’m sure you don’t, you’re a princess.” 

“And you’re the gentleman who will stay on his side of the bed?” She lifted her eyebrows. 

"Aye, always.” He crossed his heart. 

Emma yawned and stretched her arms over her head, making the covers slip down her torso, revealing the dark blue satin top she was wearing. Killian rolled to his back and closed his eyes, bloody hell, that was going to be hard to erase from his mind. 

“We better go to sleep.” 

“Aye.” Killian swallowed, “sweet dreams, princess.” 

“You too.” 

Killian shifted around and faced the bunkbed, closed his eyes and tried to ignore the soft breathing coming from the woman behind him. 

********

Her face was pressed against something solid and warm, not at all fluffy like a pillow, Emma furrowed her brows. She blinked a few times trying to focus on her surroundings, the faint warm glow of the bedside lamp they’d kept lit gave her a somewhat good idea where she was. 

A warm arm was wrapped around her middle, fingers splayed over her hipbone, with a small gasp she realized she’d somehow demolished her own well built pillow wall and moved closer to the man beside her in the night. Killian. 

“Killian!” Emma whispered, trying to grasp why this felt so damn natural being here in his arms, the man was a walking flirt. But damn if she hadn’t imagined this scenario far too many times that she’d care to admit. 

Her own hand was curled up right over his heart, the dull thump of it echoing into her own. She slowly spread out her fingers, only now realizing that the man beside her was wearing nothing but underware. The chest hair tickled her fingers. Sure she’d seen him without a shirt on their last trip to the beach, but being so close, damn did it feel good.

Suddenly his warm hand wrapped around her hand, holding her close to his heart, “Emma?” 

“Yeah?” Emma didn’t dare look up at him, not yet. 

“That wall of yours wasn’t very effective.” She didn’t have to look at him to know that he was very amused. 

“Nope.” The warmth of his hand made it impossible for her to string more words together, still trying to come to terms with how at ease he seemed to be at this unexpected development.

“What do you suppose that could mean?” His fingers rubbed over the soft skin between her thumb and pointer finger. 

“I… I don’t… know.” Emma closed her eyes as his fingers smoothed over her hand, before they slipped between her fingers and pressed their hands closer to his torso. 

“Before you freak out and make a run for it may I say something?” Killian inhaled deeply as if preparing to say something important. 

Emma nodded, not sure if she was ready to hear what he wanted to say. 

“I don’t mind that the wall is down.” 

“Oh?” 

“I’ve been trying to knock that wall of yours down for months now.” 

“I only built it last…” Emma stopped speaking when she realized what he actually meant. “Oh… really?” 

“When I moved here from England and got to be a part of this group I was instantly pulled towards the beautiful blond swan.” 

“You always throw punchlines left and right, and flirt with any woman walking by.” Emma knew her voice was bitter but apparently this early morning was a place to reveal stuff. 

“I wanted to get your attention, love, I… didn’t you know? It’s always been you.” 

Emma held her breath, her hand twisted around in his and she linked their fingers together and gave a light squeeze. “It confused me I guess, I had no idea…” 

“I realize I was an arse and to be honest it was my brother that smacked some sense into my head not long before this trip.” 

“Oh?” 

“Aye, I contemplated opting out of this trip.” 

“No!” Emma lifted her head and searched his face, the dim light had his skin glow, his brow war furrowed and eyes crinkled in worry. 

“Aye, I couldn’t bear to be this close to you and know that you hated my sorry arse.” 

“I don’t hate you.” Emma rose above him and freed her other arm to cup his face. 

“Guess we were both fools, eh?” 

“Hmm, I’m not the best at this either, I’ve had my heart broken a few too many times.” 

“Aye, Liam said as much…” 

“Seriously?” 

“Don’t worry, he didn’t give me details, those are stories you can tell me when you’re ready.” 

“Hmm.” 

“I’m glad you don’t hate me.” He clasped around her wrist and turned his head to give her palm a small kiss, “can we perhaps start over.” 

“How?” 

“Go on a date with me?” 

Emma’s heart beat a crazy rhythm in her chest, making it impossible for her to string words together. So she did what she did best, show her feelings with action. Leaning closer she started with a small kiss on his cheek, then slowly dragged her lips to meet his. God she’d dreamed of doing this for so long. 

Killian groaned when their lips touched for the first time, his fingers clenching around hers, still resting above his heart. He moved his other hand to cup her face and as she deepened the kiss he wove his fingers through her hair, keeping her close. 

Gasping for breath Emma finally pulled away, “hi.” She grinned down at him and it was a rare change to see the selfassured man reduced to a man looking dazed and out of sorts. 

“I might have died?” 

“I’m fairly sure you didn’t die.” Emma shifted above him and pressed her thigh against the bulge she could feel between his legs. “This proves it.” She toyed with the hair behind his ear as she moved her leg over his arousal. 

“Bloodiest of hells, you’re not playing nice now.” 

“Still want to be a gentleman?” Emma lifted an eyebrow, somewhat surprised at her own bold words, but who was she kidding, she’d been dreaming about this for ages too. 

“Oh to hell with it.” Killian pushed forward and Emma tumbled back on her own side of their makeshift bed, the pillows tangling in her legs. She kicked them away and reached for the man who’d ignited something new inside her. This time they didn’t just stop at kissing, soon the little clothes between them were discarded and Emma saw stars with the insufferably charming man who had managed to knock down her well built walls. 

****************

Killian woke up hours later with the largest grin, Emma was wrapped in his arms, her head resting on his now bare chest. Despite the slight chill in the room, they’d kept warm for the better part of an hour in the very early hours of the morning. 

He slipped his hand down her spine, still sans her camisole, but she’d put on her knickers. His fingers skimmed over the edge of the lace trimmed underwear. 

“Hmm.” Emma mumbled into his chest, “what time is it?” 

“The sun is up.” Killian looked up towards the narrow window above the dresser, the sunlight streamed through the gap at the bottom, but the sun beams didn’t reach their little nest on the floor. 

“Ugh, not ready to face everyone.” 

“Why?” 

“You know we have friends who can spot change a mile away.” Emma grimaced. 

“So?” 

Emma looked down at him, she’d risen above him, partly laying on his torso. “Are you okay with everyone knowing about this…” She pointed between them.

Killian lifted an eyebrow. “Why is that so bad?” He knew his brother knew of his fascination with Emma, but he suspected a few of the others did too. 

“I don’t know.” Emma pushed her hair away from her face, she shifted slowly to sit astride his chest. 

Killian forced his eyes to stay focused on her face, “I’m sure no one will object.” He shrugged and his gaze dropped to her breasts, nipples reacting to the chill. Licking his lips he cleared his throat and focused on her face again.

Emma smirked, “see something you like?” 

“Aye, something I very much like.” He pushed himself upwards and Emma dropped down to sit on his lap and he wrapped his arm around her waist keeping her close, “not letting you go that easily, love.” He nuzzled into her neck, nipping at the skin behind her ear. “It’s still far too early for anyone to be up.” I hope.

“Hmm.” Emma hummed and tilted her head to give him better access. Her fingers curled into his hair, holding him close. 

Killian smoothed his hand over her naked back, before cupping her arse with both hands, tugging her closer to his arousal. 

“Hmm someone is ready for a morning round.” Emma hummed and pulled him in for another kiss. 

He groaned as he tried to keep to a slow pace, but his body had a different agenda, he shifted beneath her, her heat seeping through the thin material of her knickers. 

The door slammed open “Yoohoo, time for some breakfast peeps… oh shit sorry…” Ruby’s voice screeched to a stop, then she started laughing before calling out, “the kiddies have been doing the naughty naughty.” 

“Bloody hell.” Killian grabbed for the covers and threw it over Emma’s shoulder. 

Emma twisted around to glare at her friend, who only doubled over in obvious delight when she was joined by Mary Margaret and Anna. “Seriously?!” 

“What have the two of you been up to?” Ruby waggled her finger between them.

“I think you’re absolutely right that they’ve been doing some horizontal tango, look under the bed.” Anna’s excited voice piped up.

“Is that a condom?” Mary Margaret gasped. 

Emma groaned, and hid her face on Killian’s shoulder. He glared at the three women at the door, “aye that is a bloody condom, and I’m sure you’re all old enough to know why one uses it.” He only regretted that he hadn’t taken the time to dispose of the damn thing before falling asleep.

“And we know how to use it.” Ruby chuckled.

“As do we.” Killian grumbled, his arms wrapping around Emma’s shoulders now covered with the covers. “Now piss off so we can get dressed.” 

Anna and Ruby shared a giggle while Mary Magaret whispered for them to stop it and give them some privacy. Mary Magaret smiled sheepishly and as she closed the door she mouthed, “sorry.” 

“You do know that by the time we’re dressed and join them for breakfast they will all know that we slept together.” Emma mumbled against his shoulder.

“Is that a bad thing?” 

“I guess not.” Emma sighed and looked up at him, “but this certainly wasn’t how I planned to reveal to them all that I’ve been crushing on you for ages now.” 

“Perhaps a few of them already knew?” Killian asked..

Emma leaned in and kissed him, “but right now I don’t really care what they think.” 

“Hmm, I’m glad.” Killian loosened his hold on the covers, “I would never be able to step back once I’ve had a taste of how delicious you are.” His tongue swiped over her collarbone and Emma sighed in return, her fingers curling into his hair.

“Killian, we can't, we have to get up and join the others for breakfast.” 

“Why?” Killian pouted and looked up at her from under his eyelashes.

“Fuck it, they already know we’re doing it.” Emma surged forward and kissed him hard on the lips.

“Are you certain?” 

“Hmm.” Emma wormed her way out of his grasp, then strode over to lock the door. 

Killian took the moment to appreciate the gracefulness of her curves, so very fitting for her namesake. The woman was feisty as an angry swan, but she had the same grace and calmness oozing from her. 

She sauntered back to the bed, dropped her knickers and crawled back into bed with him. They continued to share the newfound spark between them, ignoring the fact that their friends might be waiting. 

It took another hour before they were both ready to face the music. Everyone was delighted that the trip had helped debunk the idea that Emma and Killian didn’t like each other. In the end Mary Margaret did make a note in her review of the cabin that the listing had been off, but no one else complained. Least of all Emma and Killian. 

The Jones Family Estate - Pendleton Wells Manor.

Of course, this was just one of many properties Brennan Jones, Killian’s father, had acquired during his lucrative and, some would say, ruthless time as a Captain of Industry alongside the likes of Carnegie and Rockefeller. However, unlike many of the other Captains, Brennan had two capable, studious, and enterprising sons to whom he could leave his legacy when he passed. Killian’s older brother, Liam, had taken on the role their father had left behind, carrying the weight of the Jones name almost entirely upon his back, while Killian worked to prove himself and advance the family business into the modern age.

Whether Liam - or the Modern Age - was ready for it or not.

After several long, silent moments, Killian reached down and took Emma’s hand. Squeezing it gently, he murmured, “Relax, love. My brother has always adored you.”

Emma returned the grip and sighed. “As David’s little sister, maybe. Neither of us are certain how he’ll react to my being your girl.”

It was true, Emma had known the Jones brothers for much of her life. The Nolans had taken her in when she was eleven; the matriarch, Ruth, had found her digging through their trash looking for food after she’d run away from the orphanage. Again. After seeing the appalling conditions of the orphanage, they had elected to officially make her their ward and set up a fund for the nuns who ran the establishment. Although Emma was pretty sure her guardian, Robert, had done it to boost his public perception more than out of a sense of altruism. The Nolans may not have reached the fortune or status that the Jones had, but Robert, then his sons, James and David, had done well enough to find themselves within the same social circles.

Which had put Emma in those circles by proxy.

And, yes. Liam had always been polite and cordial with her, especially as his friendship with David - the only surviving Nolan left and the one member who had ever really felt like family to her - had matured over the years. It wasn’t until she was well into her adolescence, that she met the youngest Jones. Killian had been sent to live with relatives in England, attending boarding school then university before returning upon its completion. She hadn’t liked him at all back then, with his flirty demeanor and devil-may-care attitude.

Okay. That was a lie. She’d been immediately smitten, but refused to admit it to anyone, especially herself. He was a rogue. A rake. The black sheep of the family, with a new girl on his arm every week and a fresh black eye or split lip almost as often. It wasn’t until the death of his father that he finally turned serious attention to the family business and his role within it.

Which happened to be about the time David married Mary Margaret, and Emma and Killian were properly reacquainted at their wedding.

Little did the wedding party know that the two had been improperly reacquainted days before during an illegal canon-ball run. Emma would never forget the look on Killian’s face when he discovered it had been a woman, and his older brother’s best friend’s little sister to boot, who had bested him and his Blitzen in the point-to-point car race.

Of course, the bastard made her pay for it with teasing threats to expose her extracurricular pastime during the wedding unless she shared a number of dances with him.

Not that she really minded being in his arms half the night, especially when it seemed to irk her brother so much.

“I understand your trepidations,” Killian commiserated, pulling Emma back into the moment. “I am not relishing the face-off I am likely to have with your brother as he interrogates me about my intentions.”

They shared an amused and knowing look with one another before setting their eyes back on the road and the grand house that was now coming into view.

Killian had only just parked when a bevy of servants emerged from the house. Two footmen collected their bags while another man, the family chauffeur Emma presumed, took the keys to Killian’s Bentley to stow in the garage. With a firm yet gentle hand at the small of her back, Killian led her up the steps and through the front door where their host and hostess were waiting to greet them.

“Welcome home, little brother,” Liam boomed, taking Killian’s outstretched hand and slapping him affectionately on the shoulder.

“Younger,” Killian muttered exasperatedly before turning his attention to Liam’s wife. “Belle. So good to see you.”

“And you,” Belle replied, turning her face towards him so he could place a brotherly kiss at her cheek. “It’s been too long since you’ve graced us with your presence.”

Killian opened his mouth to respond, but Belle promptly cut him off.

“You are forgiven, however, considering the peace offering you’ve brought with you. Emma!” Belle hurried toward the woman who had been hanging slightly back and wrapped her arms around her. “I am beyond thrilled that you could join us for Christmas!”

“I… uh. Of course. I mean… thank you for inviting me.”

Pulling back, Belle kept her hands resting on Emma’s forearms as she stared up at her with kind eyes. “You hardly need an invitation. You’re practically family, after all.”

Taken aback by Belle’s pronouncement, Emma felt her cheeks grow warm as a blush swept across her face. While she hoped that she and Killian might settle down with one another at some point, there had been no mention of matrimony between them. Despite having known one another for nearly a decade, they’d only recently become an official item over the summer.

Fortunately, Belle quickly changed topics, saving both she and Killian from having to stammer out a reply.

“This coat is simply magnificent,” Belle cooed, running her hands over the soft fur before waving a footman over to assist Emma out of it.

“Thank you. It was a gift from Killian.”

Belle shot her brother-in-law a conspiratorial look over her shoulder. “Killian always did have good taste.” Turning back to face Emma, she added, “In just about everything.”

Another flush worked its way up Emma’s neck and she turned her attention to Liam, who was now approaching her. “Now, now, Belle,” he crooned softly at his wife. “Give the poor girl a chance to get beyond the threshold before you smother her.” Leaning in, he took Emma’s hand between his and stated, “We are very happy to have you, Miss Nolan. Please, make yourself at home.”

“Thank you.” The words lacked proper volume due to the overwhelming feelings she was currently experiencing at having been so warmly welcomed. Clearing her throat she added, “I will.”

“Wonderful,” Liam boomed, clapping his hands together and taking a step back to address the group. “Belle, darling, perhaps you and Ashley could escort Miss Nolan to her room while I accompany my brother to his?”

“Of course!” Belle replied cheerily, gesturing towards a young maid who had been waiting at the bottom of the stairs. “Ashley will serve as your lady’s maid while you’re here.”

With an air of command befitting the lady of the house, Belle led Emma up the steps towards the second floor, giving her a quick layout of the house as they went. Glancing back, Emma caught Killian’s confused and somewhat disgruntled expression before turning the corner towards the east wing of the manor.

“Seriously, Liam?” Killian groused. “Seperate bedrooms?”

“Aye,” Liam firmly stated. “Unless you and Miss Nolan have been recently joined by a clergyman, then yes. Separate bedrooms. I will not subject my wife to the scandal of unwed cohabitation.” Pausing, he gave Killian a stern and serious look as he reminded, “Besides, I did not think you’d wish to broadcast to her brother just how intimately you know his sister.”

Sobered, Killian conceded, “You may have a point.”

“Indeed,” Liam responded matter-of-factly in that somewhat pompous tone that never failed to grate Killian’s nerves. “Now come. You’ve just enough time to rest and wash up before meeting me in my office to discuss various affairs I’ve been meaning to ask you about until we both need to change for dinner. Formal attire required.”

Sighing, Killian followed his brother up the stairs towards the opposite wing from where his Swan had been led.

~/~

Emma spent the majority of the afternoon being pampered by her borrowed lady’s maid. A hot bath had immediately been drawn, a tray of coffee and refreshment waiting within her room after she’d made good long use of the soaking. She’d curled up on one of the chaises in front of the exquisite marble fireplace that had a warm fire crackling comfortably as she noshed on the provided tidbits while Ashley quietly performed her duties, readying Emma’s evening gown and stowing away her other garments and necessities for the weekend.

On their way to the room, Belle had informed Emma that this particular wing of the house had not been in use for a number of years. Brennan Jones had left it outdated and ignored, preferring to live and entertain in the more modernly updated west wing of the manor. After Liam had acquired it, he’d given Belle leave to renovate the east wing as a pet project to keep her occupied whilst he was away or engrossed with the matters of the family business that had been thrust upon him unexpectedly.

While Emma longed to explore and discover some of the uncovered hidden treasures Belle had pointed out to her, she had also been quite content to remain within the comfort and solace of her room. Of course, she missed spending time with Killian, but he had, no doubt, been railroaded by his brother to discuss work and give an account of the areas which he oversaw. And while she would not have minded spending the afternoon with Belle, she also did not wish to burden her when she already had so much to do in preparing for the evening’s gathering.

There was also the issue of her brother and sister-in-law’s arrival and the subsequent fawning from Mary Margaret and a peevish attitude from David over the current status of her love life.

Hoping to stay that interaction for as long as possible, Emma lounged and munched and read from the bawdy book she’d chosen to bring with her until it was time to dress. Ashley did an impeccable job shaping and pinning her hair into an elegant updo even though the modern trend for women was a shorter, sleeker style. Her beaded gown of deep green and stark black was, however, the very cutting edge of fashion and would probably have Killian telling her she cut quite the figure in it.

At least, that was what his expression was telling her as she descended the stairs, his gaze of awe and pride (mixed with just a hint of something improper) fixed upon her with a wide smile beaming from his handsome face.

“Swan, you look…”

“I know,” she quipped in a preening tone, taking his proffered arm and allowing him to lead her to the reception hall.

Festooned with lavish decorations, the anchor of which was a gigantic Christmas tree placed in the very center of the space, the hall and, each room she’d been able to sneak a peek into, simply took her breath away. Garlands and swags hung and draped from every corner. Baubles and bows garnished the lush greenery and the sparkle of golds and crystal shimmered in the glow of both candle and electric light.

Emma reluctantly tore her gaze away from the magical decor to greet her host, mildly surprised that it was only Belle there to receive them. The two women exchanged compliments on the other’s attire and Emma shared her heartfelt praise over the transformation the manor had received to welcome the holiday.

“Thank you,” Belle responded with satisfaction. “The servants out did themselves bringing my vision to life.”

“They certainly did,” a voice agreed, turning their attention to the guests who had just arrived.

“Mr. and Mrs. Humbert! How lovely that you were able to come,” Belle greeted warmly before making introductions. “I believe you both know Killian, Liam’s younger brother, but allow me to present Miss Emma Nolan, David Nolan’s sister and Killian’s…”

“Aaahhh,” Mr. Humbert drawled knowingly as he shot Killian a razzing look. “You must be Killian’s Swan. He mentions you quite often.”

Emma blushed and cut her eyes to Killian, who also had a tint of pink about his features and cresting the tips of his ears.

“Graham Humbert,” the man stated before turning attention to his wife. “And this is my wife, Ruby.”

“A pleasure to meet you both,” Emma replied, taking the opportunity to step closer to the other woman as Mr. Humbert approached Killian for a handshake of greeting.

“Please,” Belle said, gathering those who had already arrived and were assembled within the hall’s attention. “Won’t you all come through for light refreshments before dinner is served?”

Making their way into another exquisitely decorated room, Mrs. Humbert struck up a polite string of pleasantries. They were barely a step within the drawing room before both she and Emma were called into a corner where Mary Margaret was already conversing with another impeccably dressed woman.

“Oh, Emma! I’m so delighted you came!” Mary Margaret took her sister-in-law’s hand and pulled her in for a light yet affectionate hug. The ladies all offered introductions then spent a few moments pointing out and sharing the names and identities of the other guests. Several times Emma and Killian caught the other’s eye from across the room, struggling to keep decorum and good manners about them as they mingled.

One of the men, Arthur-something, had just asked where their esteemed host was when Liam suddenly appeared in the doorway.

“Welcome everyone,” he said with a slight tone of agitation underpinning what was certainly meant to be a warm greeting. “I beg forgiveness for not immediately joining you, however, I need a moment with my brother.” Casting stern eyes on the man in question, he clipped, “Killian. A word.”

Not ones to ever pass up the chance to witness drama or feast on a tidbit that might make good gossip, the party began to move towards the door so they might overhear the brothers' conversation. Or rather… Liam’s admonishment.

“Would you care to explain why champagne is being poured and trayed for passing, and wine decanted for dinner? Or where the bloody bottles came from in the first place?”

“Relax, brother,” Killian responded with a hint of amusement in his calming tone. “It is all on the up and up, I assure you.

“Spirits are illegal, little brother, and well you know it,” Liam reminded in indignation, the vein in his forehead practically calling him to the carpet all on its own.

“Aye,” Killian acknowledged, his inflection and posture demonstrating his appreciation for how serious the subject was to his brother. “I am very aware that it became illegal to manufacture, sell, or transport alcohol after Prohibition began. I, however,” he continued on with a little less seriousness and definitely more cheek. “Having the sensible foresight to plan ahead, purchased and stored within my cellar on this property, every bottle, cask, and barrel before it went into effect.” Liam opened his mouth, a tirade ready on his tongue, but Killian cut him off with an emphatic reminder, “And the law says nothing about it being illegal to consume. Therefore, we are not breaking any laws.” Slipping his hands into his pants’ pockets, he rocked back on his heels and grinned smugly at his brother. “And I have the receipts to prove it.”

“That flies into the face of the spirit of the law, and you know it.” Liam jabbed his finger in his brother’s chest for emphasis causing Killian to pull his hands from his pockets and ball them into fists.

“Liam. Darling,” Belle called out, her words bright yet sympathetic. “It’s Christmas.” Sidling up to her husband, she made a small, signalling gesture towards the corridor behind them, then wrapped her arms around Liam’s waist. “Now is not the time to quarrel. You both need to loosen up, and…” A footman appeared at her side, a tray laden with coupes of champagne bubbling delicately in their presentation. Selecting a fizzing glass, Belle raised it in salute and in no uncertain terms ordered them to, “Have a drink.”

~/~

Champagne and merriment flowed through the remainder of the social hour and continued right on into dinner where the bubbly was exchanged for wine. The sharp clinks of the cutlery were softened by the lively conversations that happened around the table. At times the entire group joined in, discussing one singular topic brought up by the host or hostess, while at others, tête-à-têtes formed between those who were seated within close proximity of one another.

Such was the case as the dinner party began to enjoy their desserts.

“Emma. May I call you Emma?” Ruby inquired, then continued on after receiving heartfelt approval. “I was wondering…” Her eyes flicked across the table to where her husband and Killian were engrossed in their own chat, then focused back on Emma as she asked, “Why does Killian call you Swan? Please tell me there’s a scandalous and juicy reason for it.”

Emma laughed at the woman’s eager expression and jumping brows.

If she only knew…

“Swan was my surname before the Nolans took me in,” she told Ruby, and the few others she could tell were listening in. “Killian began calling me Swan as soon as he learned that. I think it was because he didn’t want to have to think of David every time he had to address me as Miss Nolan. Given that the thoughts he had of me whenever we were together were ones he in no way wanted my brother associated with.”

A round of chuckles chortled through a number of the guests and Emma caught Killian’s eye; his smirk told her he had heard her response and was just as amused by it. Her brother, however, was not, if the tight grip on his fork and the softly placed, appeasing hand from his wife upon his forearm were any indication.

She shuddered to think what his response would be if he knew the truth.

Not that what she’d said had been a lie. Killian had taken to calling her Miss Swan or just Swan right after they’d become reacquainted, and she didn’t doubt it was partly for the reasons she’d given, but she also knew that it was mainly because Swan was the pseudonym she used for racing. The name she’d used when she raced and beat him. The name she used bootlegging for him, seeing as women were much less suspected in running liquor than men were.

Killian may have been honest with his brother about the alcohol he’d stocked the manor with, but his hands were in no way clean when it came to following the law in regards to Prohibition. In addition to buying up various types of alcohol in bulk, he’d also acquired a number of non-descript properties where he could safely store it, then built a network of bootleggers who oversaw the sale and transport of the illicit goods to speakeasies, private customers, and fronts who used a legitimate business as cover for their more clandestine enterprises.

Emma knew they were both playing with fire, but the rush of it all was something that had drawn them closer. It felt good to be a little bad, and she wouldn’t deny that she found Killian’s gangster persona (a role he put on to hide his true identity) extremely sexy. No one would deny his handsomeness, especially on a night like tonight where his face was cleanly shaved, his hair styled and tamed, and his tuxedo fit him to perfection, but… There was just something about the stubbled growth, mussed hair, and tweed suit, complete with suspenders and waistcoat he’d often tuck his thumbs into as to give a glimpse of the holster that lay beneath his jacket, that really got her blood pumping.

“And do you have a pet name for him?”

The question pulled Emma from her heady thoughts and she wet her lips in order to give herself a moment of composure before answering.

“Not really, no,” she lied, casting another furtive glance Killian’s way. Who was currently eyeing her with lowered brows and a heat in his gaze she often associated with his more colorful moniker. Hook. The nom de plume he used for his underground endeavors. A name that set an expectation that he was not a man to be trifled with; a man who would not hesitate to use less than savory means to get what he wanted, no matter the cost.

Sometimes it was difficult to know which of those men Emma loved more. The wellbred societal elite who was tender, civilized, and respected by his peers, or the dangerous, savvy, and ruthless man who was feared by those who were foolish enough to cross him.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to choose between them.

“Shall we adjourn to the salon?” Belle suggested, seeing that most everyone had finished their desserts. “We have some party games planned and the gramophone set up for those who may wish to make use of it.”

A chorus of delighted responses filled the dining room as guests stood from the table to follow their hostess to the salon, many of them taking their wine glasses with them. Emma and Killian both clocked Liam waving over a servant to fill his glass before following his wife out, and shared an amused (and in Killian’s case a somewhat smug) expression as they exited the room to join the merriment that would continue into the evening.

Part Two - Coming Soon!

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“It’s a boy, Emma.”

The doctor’s voice barely even registers in Emma’s mind because she’s still trembling, the blood still pounding in her ears, her hair messily matted with sweat as she tries to catch her breath from the physical strain of the birth and the emotional struggle of the entire pregnancy.

From the moment the prison infirmary had allowed her a pregnancy test, she’s wrestled with her doubts about having this baby.  It’s not that she’s afraid of doing it alone.  After all, she’s been alone for her entire life and gotten used to it.

But if this kid is going to have his best chance, it’s not going to be with her.

She had kept the pregnancy to herself until she no longer could because it was easier to avoid the cruel whispers from the other women when they’re gathered in the cafeteria for assigned meal times.

~*~

“She looks like she’s about to pop at any moment.”

“Yeah, I heard she got herself knocked up by some deadbeat who’s letting her do the time for his crimes.”

“Or maybe she’s been secretly banging one of the guards.”

“Or maybe I just need to punch you in the face,” Emma snaps, giving the rude loudmouth a hard shove.

“What the hell, Swan?” the other woman growls, returning the shove.

“Watch it, ladies.”  The guards call out a warning from across the cafeteria.

They both exchange angry glares but have enough sense to walk away, and Emma barely makes it a few steps when she suddenly clutches her stomach with a gasp.

“Swan?”

The guards rush to make sure she’s all right, but she thinks it's more to make sure she doesn’t pass out on the floor rather than any actual concern for her condition.

It’s a sharp but short contraction, and the pain fades quickly, but it only affirms the remaining doubts in her mind.

~*~

“Emma, just so you know, you can change your mind.”

No, she can’t.  She’s eighteen years old. Incarcerated and alone.  She can’t be a mother.

She’s already signed away that title anyway.  They did the paperwork long before her labor even started, and she doesn’t know why the doctor keeps insisting that there’s another choice.

The baby is crying, and Emma refuses to look at him, instead gripping the side of the hospital bed until her knuckles are white, trying hard to calm her breathing and blink back tears.

The doctor cradles the little boy in his arms, and his face falls a bit when Emma shakes her head, adamant that she doesn’t want to hold him.  He leans over to whisper something in the nurse’s ear, quietly handing the little boy over and giving a subtle nod towards the door.

They both step out of the room…and then her baby is gone.

The room is dark and instantly feels cold and empty, the familiar pang of loneliness stabbing her in the gut.  Emma tries a couple of deep breaths, but she can’t hold back the emotion any longer, and with no one else around to see, she finally lets herself break down into strangled sobs.

~*~o~*~

“It’s a girl, Emma.”

The doctor has a gentle manner and a friendly smile as he places the little pink bundle into Emma’s arms, and Emma’s heart feels like it’s going to burst.  Her eyes glisten with happy tears as she wraps both arms around her baby, and then she sneaks a glance at her husband.

Killian hasn’t moved from her side since the labor began, and now he brushes sweaty tendrils of long hair behind his wife’s ear.

“You’re amazing, love,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against the side of her head.

“Congratulations, Dad,” Emma tells him.

She’s exhausted and her voice is a little hoarse, as the birth has taken its toll, but her heart is filled with joy.  It’s a bright Christmas morning, with sunlight sparkling on fresh snow, and while her first pregnancy eventually gave her Henry and all the love that came along with him, she’ll always be haunted by the darkness of that night.

Sometimes she still has to remind herself that she’s not alone anymore.

There’s one thing I want you to be certain of…that I will always, always be by your side.

It wasn’t so long ago that Killian had made that promise to her, and he fulfills it every day as a husband and now a father.  And this time, rather than trying to bear the pain by squeezing the cold plastic bars on the hospital bed, her hand had been encased in his warm, reassuring grip the entire time.

It’s a little while later when two figures appear in the doorway, and it takes both Emma and Killian longer than usual to notice them because they can’t tear their eyes away from their little girl.

“Mom, Dad,” Emma finally acknowledges softly, and the baby squirms a little against her chest.

“Oh, Emma, Killian,” Snow breathes.  “She’s precious.”

“Are you sure you’re not upset about having another grandchild at your age?”  Emma isn’t so tired that she can’t still be a little bit cheeky.

“Of course not,” David huffs.  “In fact, we always wanted a granddaughter who’s half-princess and half-pirate.”

That deadpan tone of his makes it clear that it’s a little bit of a dig, but he and Killian have come to an understanding over the years, and Emma thinks that perhaps Prince Charming is fonder of his son-in-law than he likes to admit.

With the reassuring presence of her husband and her parents nearby, Emma leans back against the pillows and closes her eyes to rest, letting the baby do the same, and Killian squeezes his wife’s hand, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss.

The cozy warmth filling the room feels like Christmas magic, and Emma is surrounded by all the love and family that she had ever wished for. And with the newest member sleeping soundly in her arms, Emma no longer has any doubts that she’s found her happy ending.

The baby gives a yawn and reaches out her own tiny hand to her parents.  She hasn’t entirely awoken yet, so Emma can’t be sure, but she thinks her eyes might be as blue as her father’s.

Killian runs his fingers through his daughter’s wispy black hair, cradling her head in wonder, and Emma drops a kiss on the little girl’s forehead.

“Swan, you should have woken me.”

Killian is still half-asleep as he makes his way down the stairs because the clanging of pots and pans and his wife bustling around the kitchen has drawn him out of bed earlier than expected.

Emma huffs a little as she flips the food on the skillet.  “Killian, I’m fine.  It’s just pancakes…I’m pretty sure even a pregnant woman can make pancakes.”

“Well, something smells delicious,” he murmurs, stepping close enough so that his chest presses warmly against her back and so that he can bury his face in her hair and inhale deeply.  His hand and hook wrap around her waist, and he rubs his fingers in a small circle, wondering if the little one can sense his intentions.

It definitely has the intended effect on his wife.

Emma puts down the spatula and spins around in his arms, her mouth meeting his in a steamy kiss.  Her hands run sensually along the scruff of his jaw, and Killian responds instantly to her, as he always does, deepening the kiss as her arms wrap around his neck, and she’s well aware of what she’s doing to him as she uses the extra weight of her belly to push him up against the counter.

His hook deftly slides between them to release the tie on her robe, his fingers sneaking inside to stroke bare skin, and hers skim over his shoulders and down his chest, quickly coaxing the next button on his shirt to come undone.

They’re so lost in each other that they don’t notice tiny shimmers flashing like fireflies in the kitchen, rapidly multiplying and growing larger and brighter until—

“Awww, Mom!”

Emma and Killian break apart in surprise, scrambling to straighten their clothes at the sound of Henry’s loud groan.

“Next time I’m opening a portal outside the house,” Henry grumbles as the lights vanish behind him.  “And I’ll knock before I walk in on…”—he gestures to his mother and his stepfather in disgust—“any more of this.”

“Henry!”  Emma’s face lights up, and once her robe is fully tied again, she hurries over to wrap her son in a hug.  “I’m so glad you’re here, kid!”

“Me, too, Mom.”

As Emma and Henry embrace, Killian makes his way over and gives Henry a friendly clap on the shoulder.  “It’s good to see you, lad," he says. "Glad you made it back to this realm in time for Christmas.”

“Well, there’s no place like home for the holidays, right?” Henry says.  “And with the baby due any day now, I thought maybe I should get here sooner rather than later.”  A trace of a grin starts to break out on his face.  “And I might have a Christmas present that needed special delivery.”

Emma’s eyes brighten.  “What kind of present?”

Henry hums secretively, as if he’s considering making them wait until Christmas, but as his stepfather would say, they have to take advantage of the quiet moments in Storybrooke.

He reaches into his bag and pulls out a familiar brown leather-bound book wrapped in a big red bow.

Once Upon a Time.

Biting her lip, Emma nearly took her harsh recriminations back, hating to have put such guilt and hurt in his voice. She had even opened her mouth to do so when she pictured Henry’s disappointed face when Graham wasn’t there to share turkey, stuffing and pie with them. Before Graham had come into their lives, it had been just the two of them, trying to ignore how pitifully small and spare their two-person holidays had been. Images flitted through Emma’s mind that went even further back, to the first holiday she had spent knowing Henry was about to enter her life, just after his father had bolted, when she scrounged just enough spare change to buy a pack of dinner rolls and turkey lunch meat that she had eaten hunched over and shivering in her Volkswagen Beetle, pregnant and all alone again.

Though it might be unfair, those visions solidified her resentment, and the conciliating words she had almost offered were held back. She didn’t want to start that horrible tradition again. They’d promised - one lost soul to another. 

“I’m not crying,” she lied obviously, snuffling against the tears that had started and acting as though she were only clearing her throat. “Henry and I will have a great time. We’ll hang the stockings and watch Polar Express, maybe we’ll even go ahead and start looking for a tree.”

She was just congratulating herself on how nonchalant she’d sounded, like they didn’t really need his help, wouldn’t miss him at all, when she heard Graham blow out a long sign before answering, low and reluctant, “Of course…if you’d like, Sweetheart. I wouldn’t want to spoil the evening for either of you.” She could hear the longing in his words, heavy with disappointment of his own. She knew it was his own special tradition with her son, the boy he had gladly accepted as his own, to go out and find their tree - just the two of them - and haul it back together proudly.

‘Good,’ her slighted ego snipped,‘serves him right! He hurt you, didn’t he?’ But she sighed as well, missing him already and the way his calloused fingers sifted through her hair as they sat alone in the darkened living room of their apartment each Thanksgiving night, lit only by the lights strung on the tree when decorating was done and the whole Christmas season was before them. It was hard to stay angry with a man so strong, but gentle too. Who had come along and provided the steady support she and Henry had needed, and filled in all the cracks and holes that had been gaping open in her psyche pretty much all her life. Especially if he wasn’t going to fight back.

Finally, tired of all of it, and especially of being angry with him when deep down she could admit he didn’t deserve it, whether or not she was ready to admit it out loud. Quietly, she said, “I guess we’ll see you when you do get home then,” and prepared to end the call.

“Wait, Emma! I wanted – ” he started.

But she only shook her head and cut him off. “Just finished your shift, okay? You’re there now, and you obviously thought it was important enough to volunteer for, so go ahead. We’ll talk about it later.” She then hit disconnect and the line went dead, even as her shoulders fell thinking about trying to pretend for Henry that all was well and the evening was normal.

December 22

“Excuse me,” came a voice behind her, “what do you think you’re doing?”

Emma Swan froze, one hand on the knob of her boss, Regina Mills’ office door, the other holding a hair pin an inch from the lock.

Oh no, oh no!, OH NO!!! This couldn’t be happening to her. She was so getting fired!

Emma slowly turned around, thinking hard for an excuse, any excuse, she could give Sidney Glass, Miss Mills’ personal assistant, for why she was currently trying to break into her boss’s office.

This was all Killian Jones’ fault, and if she went down, she’d be taking him down with her.

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

1 week ago

Emma Swan liked her job; she really did.  She’d been hired a year ago at the Mills Ad Agency under the direction of the world-famous Regina Mills.  Companies far and wide came to Boston to meet with the advertising mogul to secure her services.  On average, after a Regina Mills campaign, a company saw a 100% jump in profit.

This was the big leagues.  Emma had finally made it.

True, she’d yet to be put on any significant account, but that would come.  In time, one of the big wigs would notice her hard work and dedication and give her the chance to prove herself.

Emma gathered up her briefcase, stepped out of her office and locked the door.  The agency always closed from Christmas to New Year’s, so she had only a week left of work before she was off for the year.

Good thing too!  Christmas had snuck up on her this year.  So much to do to get ready.  Today’s objective: get to the post office before it closed in order to mail a couple of Christmas gifts. 

She was just turning away from her office, when she heard voices–Regina Mills herself, and her nephew and second in command, Killian Jones.

Just the sound of that British accent made her blood boil.  The man was a menace!  As if it wasn’t bad enough that he was an obvious nepo-hire, he seemed to have designated himself as her personal babysitter.  Every time Emma turned around, Killian was there.  Stopping at the water cooler near her desk fifteen times a day (seriously, invest in a water bottle!), humming along to her favorite music, sitting near her in the break room.  He was always around.

It didn’t help that he was hot as all hell.  The fact that her heart rate picked up every time her eyes met his was utterly infuriating.  Oh she knew men like him.  Too sexy for his own good, and knowing it, he flirted with anything in a skirt   Well, anything but her that was.  With her, he did nothing but…hover.

“I think I’ll put the new hire, Emma Swan, on the Nottingham account,” Regina said. “What do you think?”

There was a moment of silence, before Killian responded.  “I…don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said finally.

“Really?” Regina asked, a hint of surprise in her voice.  “She’s been doing good work.  Seems like it’s time to give her a little more responsibility.”

“No,” Killian said firmly.  “She’s not right for the Nottingham account.  Big account like that…no.  We need someone else on it.”

As she listened to the conversation continue, and then move to other topics, Emma’s fury grew, blossomed, nearly erupted. She wasn’t right for the Nottingham account?  She wasn’t ready?  The son of a bitch was actually actively sabotaging her now?  

She was going to kill him.  She was going to drive a stake of holly through his cold already-dead heart.  Where the hell did he get off screwing her over like this? 

She had to get out of here; had to leave before she did something stupid like stomp into her boss’s office and punched Killian Jones in the face.  Repeatedly.

As she stormed to her car and then drove to the post office, her anger grew.  A stake of holly through the heart wasn’t good enough for him. She was fairly certain she wasn’t a violent enough person to think of a torture worthy of his betrayal.

She made it to the post office five minutes before closing time and just barely was able to slap labels on her two packages–one for her best friend Ruby Lucas and the other for her boss–and toss them in the mail chute before a voice came over the loud speaker.  “The post office is now closed.  Please return at nine a.m. tomorrow morning for any future postal needs.”

But as frustrating as overhearing her boss’s nephew sabotaging her was, what happened five days later was worse.  So very, very much worse.

“Hey, Emma, you ready for the Naughty Christmas exchange?” came Ruby’s voice over facetime on the Saturday night before Christmas.

It was a tradition they’d started when they were roommates during their freshman year of college. Every year, they got each other the most over the top, ridiculous, not-safe-for-work Christmas gift they could find, and they always did their exchange the weekend before Christmas.  It was something only Ruby could have dreamed up, but Emma had to admit, it was fun.

After Emma opened her gift–laughing over the thong her friend bought her–complete with Captain Hook’s face stamped across the front, suggestive leer on his face, it was time for Ruby to open hers.

Emma watched, grinning as Ruby pulled the paper from the box with abandon….but her grin faded and then slowly turned to dawning horror, when her friend held the unwrapped box before the camera.

Instead of the sour apple flavored edible underwear with “taste my forbidden fruit” across the butt, Ruby held up an expensive, tasteful box of chocolates.

The chocolates she had intended to give to her boss for Christmas.

Somehow, between the rage at Killian and the hustle and bustle and hurry as she tried to make it in under the wire at the post office, she’d switched her two packages.

And if Ruby got the chocolates, that meant she’d sent Regina Mills….oh no!  This couldn’t be happening!

She’d sent her boss a pair of edible underwear for Christmas.  She was sooooo getting fired.

And so she found herself at the office dark and early Monday morning, a good two hours before anyone else normally arrived, desperately trying to break into her boss’s office and retrieve her mistaken gift

“Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?”

Emma spun around to face Regina’s oily, sycophantic secretary, mind racing for an excuse that sounded plausible.  “I uh…I wanted to….you see I think I forgot to sign the card I put on my gift for Regina.  I wanted to check and make sure.”

Sidney frowned at her for another moment, before saying something that chilled her to the marrow of her bones.  “You won’t find her gifts there.  Miss Mills has all of her work gifts forwarded to her home in Storybrooke.  It’s her tradition to open them at her annual Christmas Eve party.”

At her Christmas Eve party?

Emma suddenly had visions of a swanky room packed with elegant people watching as Regina Mills opened her gift.  Her stomach dropped to her toes.  Regina wouldn’t just fire her when she opened the gift in front of all her friends and family, she’d kill her.  Conjure a fireball in her hand and incinerate her.

This morning couldn’t get any worse.

“What seems to be the problem?” the bane of her existence asked in his smooth (sexy) accent.  The universe hated her.  That was all there was to it.  It despised her.

“Nothing,” Emma stammered, turning tail and nearly running in the opposite direction.  “Nothing to concern yourself with.”

“Wait!” he called after her, jogging to keep up, finally reaching her and stopping her with a hand to her arm.  “It’s not nothing.  Love, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.  What happened?”

Emma groaned.  She knew that tone in his voice.  He wouldn’t give up without an answer.  Well, might as well get the whole sordid thing out there.  It wasn’t like she could keep it from him anyway.  In a couple days the whole fiasco would be the talk of the office grapevine.

“Your aunt is going to kill me,” she said simply.  “You see, there was a mix up at the post office last week…”  

She went on to lay it all out for him. 

“And so, you see, if she opens that gift at her party, in front of everyone…”

He nodded, his eyes dancing as he valiantly tried to subdue his smile at the ridiculous situation she’d gotten herself into.  “I see your dilemma.”

“Intercepting the gift here was my last hope,” Emma said, defeat heavy in her voice.  “And now….well, now I’m just screwed.”

For a moment, Killian was silent as he scratched at a spot behind his ear.  When he finally spoke, it was the very last thing Emma expected to hear.  “As it happens, I may be able to help you.”

“Really?  How?”

“I attend my aunt’s party every year,” he said.  “Perhaps I can intercept your gift before it reaches her.”

Emma’s eyes widened.  He was offering to help her?  What happened to constantly looking over her shoulder?  Sabotaging her?  “You would do that for me?  What’s the catch?”

There was that ear scratch again.  This time it was accompanied by a blush–an actual blush–that went all the way to his pointy ears.  “I….uh…I need you to come home with me for Christmas, go to Regina’s party as my plus one.”

Emma’s jaw dropped.  “You…you need me to what?”

He wouldn’t look at her now.  “I may have implied to my family that I have a new girlfriend, and they may have gotten the impression I was bringing her home for Christmas this year.”

“And you want me to pretend to be that girlfriend?”

“It would be a win-win,” Killian said.  “You take back your gift before Regina opens it, and I get my family off my back.  We’d head to Storybrooke this evening and then return on the 26th.  At a respectable time after Christmas, we can have a fake break up. What do you say, Swan?”

What did she say?  On the one hand, it would give her a chance to save her job (and her life), but on the other–3 days with Killian Jones?  Pretending to be his girlfriend?  This could be the worst Christmas of her life!

But if she didn’t, there would be no way to intercept the gift.  She did really love her job….and, well, Killian was offering to help her.  She supposed she could put up with him for three days.  It might not even be the end of the world to pretend to be his girlfriend.  What did she really have to lose?

“Fine,” she said on a sigh.  “What time do we leave?”

“Merry Christmas, sir.”

“And the same to you, lass.”

Killian chuckles under his breath, as he thinks that Liam is making quite a fool of himself fawning over the pretty barmaids.  His older brother gives them all a smile and an exaggerated bow and a lingering kiss on the hand, and they sigh dreamily and bat long lashes at him.

During the holidays, the sailors earn extra days of shore leave, and the taverns are always filled with extra cheer and extra alcohol.  The barmaids are eager to serve them, and Liam’s friendly smile and easygoing manner bring several of them to the table throughout the evening.

When a particularly pretty maid with long blond hair and an overly tight corset approaches their table, Liam nods towards his brother.

“Can I introduce you to my little brother, Killian?” he asks.

“He means younger brother,” Killian drawls lazily because he’s already indulged in too much drink.

He’s slumped at the far end of the table, leaning back against the wall with a fresh stein of liquor clutched in his hand, and the young lass giggles and gives Killian a sweet smile, lowering herself onto his lap and giving his arm a flirtatious squeeze.

“Well, if it isn’t the Brothers Jones.”

The newest tavern guest has a familiar voice to both of them but not a welcome one, and Killian sighs in exasperation.

“Eddie,” he gives a curt greeting, purposely emphasizing the diminutive nickname because he knows the other man hates it.

It’s not the first time they’ve run into him.  Eddie and his shipmates are an obnoxious bunch, and they’re gaining a reputation on the high seas for causing trouble wherever they go.  Because he sports signature long, black hair and runs with such a ruthless crew, many have started calling him Blackbeard.

“Well, hello there.”  Eddie’s voice drops a few pitches to a sultry tone as he grabs onto the barmaid’s arm and hauls her to her feet.  “Aren’t you a pretty one?  Tell me, dear, do you find deckhands who reek of fish guts attractive?”  His lips curl into a sneer, clearly intending for both brothers to overhear.

“Leave the lady alone,” Killian mutters, forcefully batting Eddie’s hand away.

“Killian.”  Liam gives the warning in a low voice because he can already see the tension coiling in his little brother, and he lays a steady hand on his shoulder.  Killian is usually the quieter one, but he’s also the one with the hotter temper when there’s enough to light the flames.

Eddie glares at both of them and rakes a lecherous eye over the barmaid.  “Or maybe the wench just has a particularly soft spot for orphans who have been sold into servitude.”

“Oh, you are a bastard.”  Killian’s jaw instantly clenches, and his eyes narrow into angry slits.

“Killian, no!” Liam barks.

But it’s too late.

The barmaid screams as his little brother angrily lunges forward and socks Eddie in the jaw.  Eddie lets out a sharp, mocking laugh, as if he had been expecting just that, and he’s quick to retaliate, snapping Killian’s head back with a blow of his own and knocking him to the floor.

The alcohol slows Killian’s reflexes, and he’s slow to rise, shaking the sting out of his knuckles and wiping a trickle of blood from his mouth.

“Killian, stop, he’s not worth it,” Liam commands, grabbing his brother’s arm, but Killian is beyond listening at this point.

“No wonder your father traded both of you for the price of his freedom,” Eddie taunts.  “He knew his sons would never be worth anything more than the sludge they scrape off the deck.”

Killian’s rage explodes and he catches Eddie by surprise with a full body tackle that slams him backwards into the wall.  With Eddie pinned against the wall, Killian closes his grip around his throat, taking great pleasure in watching the other man struggle for air.

“Our father was a bastard,” Killian hisses in his face.  “And Liam would be a better father than his own ever was.”

“And what about you?” Eddie manages to spit back.  “You’re a drunken fool with an uncontrollable temper.  What kind of father would you be?”

~*~o~*~

“Looks like it’s really coming down out there now.”

Emma is in the kitchen, adding a few dashes of cinnamon to the hot cocoa, and she shivers as an icy draft rushes into the house when the front door opens and closes behind her husband.

Killian shakes the snow from his hair, his arms filled with firewood, and he throws a couple more logs into the fireplace.  He sparks the first flame with a lighter – and Emma smothers a chuckle that he’s truly become a 21st century man now – and then he sinks wearily into the couch as the fire starts to burn.

“Killian?” Emma asks with concern.  She comes in from the kitchen, easing herself down on the couch and handing him a mug – a mix of hot cocoa and rum because she knows she’ll never entirely cure him of the rum habit.

“Hey,” she says softly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.  “What’s wrong?”

Killian shakes his head.  “It’s nothing,” he insists.  “Just remembering things best left forgotten.”

Emma knows Killian well enough that he’ll tell her when he’s ready, and she’s content to settle in by his side on the couch, sipping her hot cocoa and resting her head against his shoulder as they both watch the flames crackle and flicker.

The temperature has dropped significantly since sunset, and the snow has been coming down for a couple of hours now.  It’s only expected to get worse, with heavy accumulation and strong winter winds, and Grumpy had spread the word to stay off the roads so the dwarves can plow.

It’s a perfect night for a fire and hot cocoa and nestling together under a warm blanket, but when Emma tries to tuck the blanket around her legs, Killian doesn’t miss the way his wife winces.

“Emma, are you okay?”

Quickly, he lays a concerned hand over hers as she clutches her side and lets out a gasp.

“Yeah, I’m fine…your daughter is just kicking hard tonight.”

That makes him smile a little.  “Aye, the lass knows a storm’s coming.”

Emma wonders if she should be concerned that her daughter can already forecast the weather as well as a sea-hardened sailor, but she takes Killian’s hand and gives it a soft squeeze, guiding it just under the hem of her sweater.

“Do you feel that?”

Killian nods, his eyes glowing with awe and happiness in the firelight. His fingers just barely ghost over Emma’s stomach and he’s certain that he feels the baby move.