#csss

“Alright, my love, here we go,” Killian explains while lifting up his 5-year-old daughter to carry her on his shoulders.

--- Traditions ---

He's making sure she finds a comfortable position before they embark on the journey from the kitchen to the living room area, where the object of their quest is waiting for them. Bare and still a little covered in what's left of the powdered snow that had buried it underneath overnight — several small puddles of meltwater have started to form around it on the wooden floor already, though — it guides them to their destination with its distinctive smell.

His spirits are high; he's been looking forward to this particular tradition ever since he got introduced to it. So when he finally starts to move, he can't resist initiating a little playful scenario…

“You're swaying like the Roger,” Hope says, giggling loudly when her father is dramatically imitating a ship's movement, leaning his body from one side to the other with every step he takes, making an extra round or two around the kitchen table before he changes his course.

“Apologies, but there's bumpy waters ahead, my little first mate,” he calls out to her before he stops next to the stairs that lead to the second floor of their house. “Now, should we head “port” or “starboard” to reach our destination?”

“Starboard!!! Starboard!!”

“Aye aye!” He exclaims, turns to the right, and heads for the bay-window corner where his enchanted telescope is usually located at…

And there it finally was in all its glory — the Christmas tree Hope had been holding a topper for in one of her small hands the entire time.

After they reach the bottom branches, Killian tightens his grip around her legs and leans forward to give his daughter better access to reach the top to add the star-shaped ornament to the tree.

“Steady… steady now.” He advises, watching her fumbling to complete her task, some of the needles lightly piercing the skin of his hands, neck and face, a small twig of the fir nearly snapping into his right eye when he adjusts his position a little.

“Done, Papa,” she proudly states, and they're finally able to retreat a little from the needle-leaved plant to check the position of the tree topper.

“Perfectly even, well done.” Her father praises, secretly happy that he doesn't need to get too close to it again and risk any more irritations to his skin, let alone losing an eye.

“After all these years of experience in decorating the tree, you're still starting with the finishing touch?” Emma suddenly quips from behind with a smug grin on her face.

She had been busy searching for the rest of the decorations in the basement but was drawn to the scene by the laughter filling their house. So she snuck back up and watched them quietly, leaning at the wall next to the stairs, arms crossed with a smile on her lips.

“So you'd rather want to see us keel over into that thing after all the decorations are done?” Her husband responds jokingly with a raised brow.

“I'd rather have you not crash into it at all…but you have a point there.”

Killian sets Hope down, and she runs off to rummage through the few boxes her mother had already brought upstairs, looking for her favorite decorations.

“What brought you here, love?” He asks in a genuine tone, wondering if she needs help with the boxes.

“Oh, you know, just that “second star to the right” thing,” she explains, pointing at the top of the fir where the star-shaped ornament is glistening in the reflection of the light shining through the windows.

The way she said this wasn't casual; it definitely carried a tint of a flirty undertone — at least to him. For all the ones he never understands, he at least gets this reference. Neverland. The place he truly fell in love with her. He had never thought there'd be a single chance that he'd one day possess a good memory of that cursed island, but here he is now, looking at his wife in front of him, remembering their shared moments and first instance of real intimacy.

So he tilts his head a little, a small cocky smile appearing on his lips, and convicts suspiciously, “Of course.”

A small laugh escapes her at his reaction, knowing that he understood. Then she pushes herself off the wall and ventures to the kitchen, leaving him wondering what she's up to.

Killian’s gaze briefly wanders to where Hope had been checking the content of the boxes, realizing that she's not there anymore. She must have gone searching for her favorite ornaments because they haven't yet been included in the boxes Emma had brought.

It's the same every single year — the order in which the tree needs to be decorated is extremely important to their daughter, and he won't bloody mess with that by continuing the task alone. Not that he would want to without her present anyway…

“You know,” he calls out to his wife while cleaning up the puddles underneath the tree before they ruin the floor, breathing in the aroma of the freshly cut fir. ”As much as I didn't know anything about this,” he gets up, straightens his clothes, and gestures at it with his hand, “prickly tree tradition, I must admit it is my favorite now.”

“You mean after the one that allows you to drink as much as you like once a year?” She cheekily inquires while presenting an eggnog to him.

He briefly looks at the creamy, yellowish beverage before his face falls and he retorts with a raised brow, "Joke’s on you, Swan. You know I wouldn't touch that thing made of raw eggs ever again…”

Whatever went down the first year he tried it, they swore to never talk about it again. Yet, it became somewhat of an insider joke, and she wouldn't miss a single year to make it…

“Just a bit of a reminder.” Her eyes smile in a challenging fashion when she says this over the rim of her glass, taking a sip.

She wants flirty banter? He had mastered this particular skill centuries before she was even born…

“More like teasing, I'd say…” He steps closer, his face coming to a halt next to the left side of her face, breathing a whispered, “There are certain places I'd rather want you to, though,” in her ear, which sends a pleasant shiver down her spine.

“Can we put these on first?” The married couple gets suddenly interrupted by their daughter, who presents a small box of assorted ornaments to them both.

Emma is caught a little off guard at the sight, a tint of disappointment present in her voice, “Oh, sweetie, I thought those were supposed to be much more of a surprise?”

Her husband, on the other hand, gasps when the choice of said ornaments dawns on him…

“You didn't,” he whispers, stunned.

“What? Did you expect us to bury this like treasure first?” His wife retorts a little cheekily after having taken his hand in hers.

But she'd already seen it; already acknowledged that for once he's at a loss for most of his words, eyes glassy from being moved to the brink of tears.

Killian feels their love and appreciation for him every day, but this early present now is somewhat of an added physical proof of it. He carefully takes out one ornament after the other and aligns them on his hook, analyzing all details of the four small objects dangling slightly in front of his face.

The tiny steering wheel, ship and compass are made of wood and beautifully painted to resemble the Jolly Roger and the compass Emma and he went to get during their first shared adventure. A literal compass led him to his true love? Kind of poetic, he briefly thinks, remembering their quest.

The fourth item is a small replica of his hook and — like its bigger counterpart — made of metal, reflecting his face on its polished surface.

“We thought it's about time you get your own set, too.” Emma explains in a soft voice, her head resting on his right shoulder, and left arm slung around his waist.

His own set. Four ornaments to represent him. Four items to join the ones that they'd been using for years… There are the glass unicorns of Emma's crib’s mobile Snow was always wary about ever since that ghastly premonition she received all those years ago. Her daughter, though, wanted them for Hope's nursery, refusing to let the past dictate their current lives and wanting to break the curse of generational trauma. And when Hope outgrew her crib, they ended up as decorations for their trees and were joined by a bunch of red, glass, swan-shaped ones two years ago, when Emma received them as a present from her mother. One set of decorations for Hope and one for Emma. And now one for him, too.

“Merry Christmas.” She says while planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Merry Christmas!” Their daughter chimes in happily. “Can I hang them on the tree, Papa?” She asks, pulling lightly at the cuff of his hooked-arms dress shirt.

“Of course, my love.” He beams at her joyfully, lowering his arm to give her access to his hook. "You pick the spots and tell me if I need to lift you up again.” He adds while she slides the first ornament from the bent metal substitute for her father's missing hand.

“Okay, you two get to this,” Emma states, adding in a whisper to his ear with a wink, “And I go get you a glass of spiced grog to atone for earlier.”

“Mmmhhh, this will truly forever remain my favorite tradition.” He remarks contentedly before she makes her way to the kitchen, and Hope is about to get the next item from his hook to add to the fir.

And who knows, maybe they'll get ornaments representing the rest of their family members and add them to the trees in the future, too? Because for them a Christmas tree isn't just that; it’s a family tree — literally.

________

Emma walked into work on Friday feeling a sense of excitement for the day, and the excitement turned into delight when she walked into her office and found a vase of flowers sitting on her desk. She grinned at the flowers before picking up the note and reading it.

“Happy Friday, my love,” the card read in Killian’s script. Emma smiled and moved the flowers to the corner of her desk so she could get to work. After an hour lost in spreadsheets, a sharp rap on the office door pulled her back to reality. She looked up to see Killian—the exact man she’d been trying to push from her mind.

“Morning, love,” he said cheerfully and set a cup of coffee down on her desk. She smiled and returned his morning gesture, before picking up the cup.

“Coffee?” She questioned, starting to feel slightly upset that it seemed Killian had forgotten her drink order.

“It’s not coffee,” Killian said quickly before Emma could take a sip. “It’s your favorite.” He said sheepishly.

“Hot cocoa?” Emma asked, eyebrows raised in question.

“With whipped cream and cinnamon,” Killian confirmed. That got Killian an extra smile from her.

“Thanks, Killian. I told Henry last night on our way home. It was also the only thing he talked about since the moment I woke him up this morning,” Emma laughed. “He’s ecstatic. Literally told me “I’m so excited to have a real family” over 20 times this morning alone.” Killian’s face broke out into a smile.

“I’m glad to hear it, Swan. But, you and Henry already are a real family.”

“That’s what I said!” Emma said, throwing her hands up in the air for emphasis. “Henry asked if we could have pizza tonight while we packed some of our things.”

“I can bring pizza over and help pack,” Killian offered.

“You? Packing?” Emma questioned, a smirk playing on her lips.

“I know how to pack, Swan. I've done it a time or two.” Killian responds, exasperated.

“Well, I don't know about your packing skills, but coming over with pizza sounds great, Killian.” Emma agreed.

They spent over an hour and a half choreographing Monday’s staff meeting, specifically how they would announce the Gold partnership—and the sham marriage that had secured it. Convincing the entire company they were actually husband and wife was a daunting prospect, but Killian hoped the influx of new funds would help the staff swallow the lie.

-------------cs-------------

“So Swan, what's your ring size?” Killian asks out of the blue on Saturday morning while Emma is packing up some things from their pantry and fridge to bring to Killian's.

“What?” She asks, dropping the boxed macaroni and cheese on the floor while simultaneously whipping her head around to stare at him.

“Your ring size? You said it yourself- there's a lot of logistics if we're to pull this off. If we are playing the part of a married couple, we should have wedding bands.” Killian explained innocently.

“I don't know! I've never needed to know my ring size!” Emma says, getting defensive suddenly. Just having Killian ask about a ring put butterflies in her stomach. Wearing a ring on her left hand is going to make this whole thing feel even more real, which unnerves her.

“Okay, well, how about we go to the jewelers after we drop off the food at my place?”

“The jewelers? Everything costs a fortune there! And we aren't really married! There's no reason to spend a bunch of money on jewelry that isn't real!” Emma said, turning so Killian couldn't see her cheeks heating up. Emma, however, missed Killian's hopeful expression that died when she clarified it wasn't real.

“Well, what are we to do?” Killian asked calmly despite Emma's frantic nature.

“I guess we can go into town later and get cheap rings from like Walmart or another department store or something?” Emma suggested. And so they did. With Henry safely with Mary Margaret and David, they visited a department store to pick out important props for their charade: two fake wedding bands. They spent over an hour selecting decor themed around "family" to make Killian’s stark, imposing house look lived-in. Their preparations were nearly complete when, on the way back to Storybrooke, Killian pulled over at the pier.

“What are you doing?” Emma questioned as Killian got out of the car.

“Don’t you trust me?” Killian asked, opening Emma's car door and holding her hand as they walked out towards the water.

“Of course I trust you,” Emma said. They found a bench by the water’s edge and began mapping out the photos they’d need to stage, print, and frame to complete the domestic facade. In the middle of the conversation, Killian shifted. One moment, he was sitting beside her; the next, he had dropped to one knee on the weathered wood of the pier, looking up at her with a sudden, startling intensity.

“Killian, what?” Emma said, her heart hammering in her chest. Even for a charade, the sight was one Emma never thought she’d see. There was Killian—her former best friend and most enduring crush—kneeling at her feet, blurring the line between their elaborate lie and her deepest, hidden truth.

“Emma Swan, I know we’re doing this for show, a mere play-act for a businessman’s benefit. However, I’d be remiss if I didn't give my fake wife a real proposal. Emma—my former best friend and my most reliable ally—will you make me the happiest man on the planet and fake marry me?” He looked up at her, his expression so earnest it made her breath catch. Tears blurred her vision, the raw emotion of the moment far outweighing the absurdity of the lie.

“Killian Jones, I would love nothing more than to be your fake wife.” She gave him a tearful smile and extended her hand, allowing him to slide the two rings—prop pieces that felt surprisingly heavy—into place on her ring finger.

“It's a perfect fit!” Killian laughed while Emma helped him to his feet. They stood there on the pier, inches apart with Emma in Killian's arms. They smiled softly at one another, before Emma reached up and pecked Killian on the cheek.

“Thanks for my pretend proposal. Now we don't have to completely fabricate our proposal to Gold,” Emma laughed, and pulled Killian back to the car.

By Saturday evening, Henry had picked out his preferred new room at Killian's house, and they had spent the afternoon decorating the room to Henry's specifications. They had moved Henry's toys and bookshelf, and they had put some of his toys and games in the living room. They had also moved over Henry's and Emma's favorite snacks and food into Killian's pantry and fridge, and already the large house was beginning to feel more like a home for the trio. After Emma helped Henry get ready for bed, the hardest and most awkward part of her stay was just beginning: sharing a room with Killian.

After gently closing the door to Henry's new room, Emma crept down the hallway towards the master bedroom. Killian had left the door ajar, and Emma slipped in and closed the door quietly behind her. Killian was in the master bathroom when she entered, and Emma made herself busy by unpacking some clothes from her duffel bags into the closet and open dresser drawers that Killian had cleared out for her. Killian soon made his way out of the bathroom and stood in the doorway, watching Emma organize her clothing.

“Are those drawers plenty of room for now, Swan?” Killian asked. Emma looked up and realized with a jolt that Killian was wearing nothing but sweatpants. She’d seen him shirtless countless times at his pool, but that was before. Now, they were fake-married, and the reality that they were about to share a bed made the familiar sight of him feel dangerously new.

“It’s fine! Really,” Emma said, her voice a little too high. “I’ll need to stop by my apartment tomorrow for my work clothes, but there’s more than enough room in your wardrobe for a few outfits.” Her stomach did a nervous somersault. She was finished with her nighttime routine, and the only thing left to do was climb into bed with him. Killian seemed to be avoiding the subject as well, remaining anchored against the doorframe. Her eyes darted to the small couch in the corner, but it looked pitifully small compared to the sprawling comfort of Killian’s bed.

Years ago—before Liam’s death and before David and Mary Margaret were even married—Killian had hosted a massive party at his estate. Emma had brought Henry, only three at the time, along with a bag of toddler essentials so he could sleep through the festivities. By the time Henry was tucked away, Emma had realized she’d had one too many drinks to drive them home. Killian insisted she stay, and they eventually found themselves in his room, the conversation drifting from the party to something much more personal.

They had both been too far gone for anything scandalous, but when Emma fell asleep mid-sentence, Killian didn't move her. Instead, in his own hazy state, he had climbed in beside her and pulled her close. Emma woke the next morning to the best sleep she’d had since Henry was born, and she was acutely aware of why. Killian was nestled against her back, his nose buried in her blonde hair and his hand intertwined with hers across her torso. They had woken slowly, wrapped in a quiet peace that Emma knew she could never forget, no matter how hard she tried.

Now, staring at that same expanse of mattress, the ghost of that morning felt more vivid than ever.

“I could, uh, sleep on the couch?” Emma offered, unsure of what else to do.

“Nonsense, Swan. This is your home for the next several weeks, and you should be comfortable. I'll be a perfect gentleman, and we'll share the bed. Or, if you're uncomfortable, I can sleep on the couch and you can take the bed yourself.”

“No!” Emma practically shouted. Killian blinked at her sudden abruptness. “I mean, no one should have to sleep on the couch. We're both adults who agreed to be fake married for the sake of both of our futures. We can behave and be completely fine. I'm sure of it.” Emma said.

Killian nodded, rounding the mattress to his side. He slipped under the covers and remained carefully stationary, while Emma busied herself with her phone and the nightstand outlet. She moved slowly, lingering as she slid off the fake wedding band and engagement ring, her mind racing with the impossibility of the situation. How was she supposed to sleep beside her boss—the man she had loved in secret for years?

Finally, she retreated under the blankets, clinging to the edge of the mattress as if the middle were a sheer drop-off. Killian murmured a quiet goodnight before clicking off his lamp, plunging the room into shadow. Emma echoed the sentiment, but sleep wouldn't come. She tried facing away from him, then shifted to her back, but it was useless; the peace of slumber remained out of reach, leaving her alone with her feelings. After what felt like hours of listening to Killian’s own restless tossing and turning, Emma finally gave up and turned her head toward him.

“Killian?” She whispered.

“Aye,” Killian responded, voice more gravelly than normal and laced with sleep.

“Listen, I know we’ve both been through hell since we met, and I know losing Liam was the hardest thing you’ve ever faced. But you can’t push me away anymore—not if we’re going to pull this off with Gold. You can’t keep secrets and hide the big things. You can’t recoil every time I try to check in on you. You have to be honest with me, and I’ll be honest with you. I can’t stand this... this suffocating awkwardness between us.

God, Killian, you were my best friend! I’ve never let anyone in the way I let you in. And then the unthinkable happened, and I tried to be there, but you just shut the door in my face. You suffer in silence, but everyone around you suffers too. Henry and I suffer, too.

We spent months trying to help. I cleaned your house. I changed your dressings. I cooked your dinner and ran your damn business. I don’t want a thank you—I did it for my best friend—but I did expect you to talk to me. I wanted to be here for you the way you’ve always been for me. We promised years ago that it was the two of us against the world. Three, with Henry. We promised the good, the bad, and the ugly. But the second things actually got ugly, you pushed me away. I know you have your pride, Killian Jones, but you have never, ever had to be prideful in front of me.”

“I’m sorry, Swan. For more than you can possibly know,” Killian replied, his voice a low, rough anchor in the dark.

“No, I’m not—ugh, I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty,” Emma said, her frustration softening into something more fragile. “I’m saying it because I can’t do this dance anymore. We need to start over. I want us back to how we were before everything went to hell. I’m not holding the past against you, Killian. I just want my friend back—my real friend. Not just a business partner or someone I have a 'complicated history' with.”

She shifted in the dark, trying to catch his gaze. “We have to leave the wreckage behind us and just move forward. No more guilt. No more walking on eggshells. Just you and me. And Henry.”

“I think I can manage that,” Killian said, his eyes tracing her pale features in the moonlight filtering through the window. “So... how do we start?”

“We start by not sleeping as far apart as humanly possible,” Emma said, meeting his gaze. “Neither of us is going to get any rest like this, and we have a long road ahead of us with Gold. So, we start over by actually getting comfortable.”

“Aye, love,” Killian agreed. He drifted toward the center of the mattress, and Emma mirrored him until the cold gap between them vanished. They lay facing one another, the tension finally beginning to ebb. Emma offered a soft smile and reached out her right hand. Killian met her halfway, his fingers tentatively closing around hers in a silent pact, and he finally smiled back.

“Hi. I’m Emma,” she whispered into the shadows of the room.

“Hello, Emma. I’m Killian,” he replied, his voice barely a breath. They shook hands gently—a simple, grounding touch—before letting go.

With the weight of her words finally gone, Emma felt her body soften into the mattress. She rolled onto her side, turning her back to him, and felt a wave of relief as her mind began to drift.

“Goodnight, Killian,” she murmured.

“Goodnight, Emma.”

“Pardon me, lass. Is that seat taken?”

Emma Swan looked up from the program she had been scanning, to see a man standing in the aisle of the auditorium, looking at her expectantly.

“Excuse me?” she asked.

“I was wondering if you were saving the seat beside you for someone.”

She glanced at the empty seat to her left. “Uh, no. I’m not saving it for anyone.”

After an awkward pause, he asked, “In that case, would you mind if I sit there?”

“Oh, sorry.” She stood up, letting him pass in front of her.

When they were settled in their seats, he said, “Thanks very much.” Holding out his hand, he added, “Killian Jones.”

“Emma Swan,” she responded, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I don’t think I’ve seen you around Storybrooke before.”

“I live in Portland. I visit from time to time, and stay at my brother Liam’s house when I do. I’m here to watch his and Elsa’s daughters. They’re the two cutest reindeer.”

“Missy and Alice are your nieces? They’re in my son Henry’s class. In fact, I think he has a crush on one of them.”

“Which one?”

She shrugged. “I’m not sure. They both look alike to me.”

“Well,” he chuckled, “that’s quite common with identical twins.”

She laughed. “You have a point there.”

“Is your son also a reindeer?”

“I wish,” she sighed. “Reindeer are quiet. My son is the little drummer boy. My friend is the music teacher and I’m pretty sure she cast him in that role intentionallly. Her husband has been dying to buy Henry a drum set ever since he was a toddler, but I keep telling him absolutely not. Of course, once my son got the part, he had to practice, so Mary Margaret sent a snare drum home with him. I can hardly wait until this program is over, so I can get that freaking thing out of my house. I love my kid, but he’s driving me crazy with it!”

Killian’s grin stretched wider across his handsome face. “Well, I can assure you that reindeer are not quiet. At least, not in Alice and Missy’s case.”

“I’m sure having two ten-year-olds in the house can be very loud. I only have one and sometimes I swear he’s trying to split my eardrums.”

“With his drum,” Killian smirked.

“You’re hilarious,” Emma groaned sarcastically, rolling her eyes. However, she couldn’t help grinning a little at his attempt to make a joke.

“Are you, uh, are you sure I’m not taking…anyone’s seat?” he asked tentatively.

“If you’re talking about Henry’s father, he won’t be coming. He lives in New York City with his other family. Henry only gets to see him a couple of times a year.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be. The less time Henry spends with his dad, the smaller the chance Henry will act like him. After six years, he’s used to taking a back seat to Neal’s other kids.”

She opened the paper she was holding again, scanning the information typed inside. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Killian leaning in slightly to have a look at it, too.

“Didn’t they give you a program at the door?” she asked.

“They were out by the time I got here. I left work as soon as I could, but barely made it. Liam and Elsa weren’t expecting me to come tonight, so they didn’t save a seat for me.”

Emma swiped across her phone to look at the time. “They’re getting started a few minutes late. That’s typical for Mary Margaret because she wants everything to be perfect. She’s probably still gluing cotton balls onto Santa’s beard.” Scooting over in her seat a couple of inches, she held the program between them. “I’ll share with you. Looks like Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer is the next-to-last song.”

Killian perused the offered page. “Your drummer boy looks to be the star of the third song.”

“Pa-rum-pa-pum-pum,” she intoned. He chuckled.

The lights dimmed and Mary Margaret hurried onto the stage as the crowd applauded.

“Show time,” Emma commented, then straightened in her seat to listen as her friend welcomed everyone.

*********

Killian shifted in the cushioned chair and tried to focus on what the lovely, pixie-haired teacher was saying. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to pay attention; rather, it was the distraction of the beautiful woman to his right which was occupying his mind. Through no fault of her own, she was making it very difficult for him to concentrate on the acknowledgements of all of the people responsible for helping with the elementary school Christmas pageant.

When she looked up at him after he inquired about the empty seat beside her, he was instantly struck by her beauty. It had been a long time since he gave any woman a second glance. Having his heart broken three years before caused him to swear off of women for good, and he stuck to it.

He may have to rethink that.

Being intrigued by her looks was one thing, but when she began conversing with him, he was struck by how easy it was to talk to her. She was witty and sarcastic, and put him at ease immediately.

When he verified that he wasn’t taking anyone’s seat, it was also his subtle way of asking if she was in a relationship. He had discreetly checked her ring finger and saw it was bare, but wanted further assurance. He was probably assuming too much by thinking her answer about her ex was proof she was indeed single, because she could be dating someone else. But if she was, that man would surely show up to her son’s Christmas pageant, wouldn’t he?

As crazy as it sounded, after knowing her for all of five minutes, Killian was seriously thinking of asking her out.

*********

Emma could feel the nearness of the man beside her and, shockingly enough, she didn’t mind at all. In fact, she actually found herself leaning toward him.

Her friend Elsa mentioned her brother-in-law to Emma several times, but she had never met him or seen a picture of him. If she had, she definitely would have remembered, because the man was ridiculously handsome. She probably seemed like an idiot when he asked about the empty seat beside her and she didn’t tell him he could sit there right away. She was simply gobsmacked when she looked up at him and had trouble getting her mind to work.

Fortunately, once he sat down, words were easier and the conversation she had with him was very enjoyable. She found herself wishing he had gotten there sooner, so they could have had more time to chat before the pageant began. It had been quite a while since she actually wanted more time to talk to a man. Usually, she wanted them to shut up and leave her alone.

Finding someone to date in Storybrooke was not an easy feat. Not that she put much effort into it. After what she went through with Neal, she swore off dating altogether. He not only broke her heart by leaving her for another woman, he told her he never loved her in the first place and the only reason he stayed with her as long as he did was because she was careless enough to get pregnant. He didn’t seem to realize that he had a little something to do with her ending up in that condition, too. She didn’t regret it, though. Henry was the best thing that ever happened to her. She had been telling herself for years that she loved her kid and he was the only male she needed in her life.

How absurd was it for her to want a chance to get better acquainted with Killian Jones so soon after meeting him?

*********

Killian’s whirlpool of thoughts was interrupted when music began playing and the third and fourth grade students trooped onto the stage to stand on the risers, all of them dressed in homemade costumes for their various roles.

Leaning over, he quietly asked, “Which one is Henry?”

Emma pointed. “The one with the jeans chopped off at the knees, white shirt and a vest made out of a cut up paper bag. Real professional, huh? He reminded me last night that he needed a costume, so it’s the best I could do.”

“I think it’s very effective. He’s supposed to be a poor boy, right?”

They fell silent when a little girl dressed as Mrs. Claus stepped to the microphone to introduce the first song. As Killian tried to lay his elbow on the arm rest, he bumped Emma’s, which was already there.

“Sorry, Love,” he whispered, tucking his arm against his side.

“We can share,” she whispered back, scooting her arm over to give him some room. Under normal circumstances, he would have passed on the offer, but he quite liked how it felt to touch her. Once their elbows were both on the arm rest, he turned his attention back to the stage, where the students dressed as elves were lining up to lead the song Have a Holly, Jolly Christmas, while Mary Margaret was taking her seat behind the piano.

“You were right,” Emma muttered. “Your nieces are the cutest reindeer.”

“Of course they are. They take after their uncle,” he cheeked.

Mary Margaret launched into the accompaniment before Emma could reply.

Frosty the Snowman followed, with students dressed as snow people spinning and dancing on the stage. One snowman twirled himself dizzy and almost fell off of the stage. Luckily, David was quick on his feet, catching the little boy and preventing disaster.

“I can guarantee I’ll hear about what a hero he was for days from Mary Margaret,” Emma remarked as they clapped at the end of the song.

“Your boy is up next,” Killian reminded her.

“Oh, yeah,” she said, scrambling to pull her phone out of her purse.

“Would you like me to take the video so you can sit back and enjoy his performance?”

She looked at him. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all. It would be my pleasure.”

Emma quickly unlocked her phone, pulled up the camera app and set it to video. “You know how to do this, right?”

He chuckled as he took it from her hands. “Don’t worry, Swan. I’m a twenty-first century man, so I do know a fair amount about technology.”

Henry took his place behind the snare drum and smiled widely at his mom. However, once the song started, he was all business, taking his drum solo very seriously. After filming the entire group of students during the first verse, Killian zoomed in on Henry for the rest of the song, capturing his solemn expression as he struck the drum in perfect rhythm.

At the conclusion of the song, Killian turned the phone toward Emma, who was clapping loudly and shouting, “Way to go, kid!” Through the lens, Killian could see the sheen of proud tears in her eyes. He didn’t stop filming until she turned to him to get her device back.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m glad I could enjoy it without having to watch him through my phone screen.”

“No problem,” he assured her. “He did a wonderful job. He just might have a future as a drummer in a band.”

“I hope he’s out on his own by then if he does. I don’t think I could handle all of the practicing.”

Killian chuckled and settled back in his seat to enjoy the next two songs. When it was time for the reindeer to take their place at the front of the stage, he dug his own phone out of the front pocket of his jeans.

“Here, I’ll return the favor,” Emma said, reaching for the phone. “Enjoy your nieces’ performance.”

“Thanks, Love,” he said gratefully.

The song went well until one of the twins accidentally stepped on the other one’s foot, who then pushed the unwitting culprit. A short shoving match ensued between the two of them, until Mary Margaret snapped her fingers at them with one hand, while continuing to play the piano with the other.

Killian scanned the crowd to find his brother and sister-in-law. Liam was trying, and failing, to keep a grin off of his face, while Elsa scowled ferociously at her rowdy daughters.

The rest of the song went on without further incident. When Emma handed his phone back, Killian remarked, “I think the girls might be in for it after this is over.”

“Yeah, Elsa looks pretty peeved.”

“Do you know her?”

“We got to know each other through the PTO, and we’ve become pretty good friends.”

“PTO?” he questioned.

“Parent-teacher organization. We do fundraisers to give the school and staff extra things the district doesn’t provide. We also sponsor fun events for students and their parents, like skating parties and bingo nights.”

“It sounds very beneficial,” Killian commented.

Mary Margaret announced that the final song was Silent Night and after the students sang it through once, the audience was encouraged to join in.

The children, who had just sung Rudolph loudly and exuberantly, now sang the beloved carol with great reverence. A hush fell over the crowd as they listened to the sweet voices. Killian turned his eyes toward Emma and saw her swallow hard, clearly trying to keep her emotions in check. He was a little emotional himself and he didn’t even have a child on the stage.

Killian added his rich baritone the second time through. He could hear Emma’s voice and wasn’t at all surprised that it was as lovely as the lady herself.

As the final notes faded away, she turned to look at him. He smiled and winked, beginning to clap with the rest of the audience. When the ovation was over, she quickly collected her coat and purse. “I have to go get Henry from his classroom. I…it was nice meeting you, Killian. Maybe we’ll see each other the next time you come to town.”

He looked stunned. “Aye, Swan, perhaps we will.”

With a final wave, she was gone, swallowed up by the crowd.

*********

As he watched her walk away, Killian felt like kicking himself. He just let her go, without asking her out or even requesting her phone number. He was sure he wasn’t the only one who felt the connection between the two of them, but now it was too late to act on it.

She did say she was Elsa’s friend, so perhaps he could get Emma’s information from his sister-in-law. That was less than ideal, but it might be his only option.

He sighed, grabbed his coat from the chair and set off to locate his family.

*********

Emma hated leaving the way she did, but she knew Henry would be waiting for her. Telling her son how proud she was of him, trumped hanging around to talk to Killian some more. She truly hoped she would run into him again, sometime.

She wished she would have been bold enough to ask him for his phone number. Of course, she could always get it from Elsa, but that would mean telling her friend she was interested in her brother-in-law. Emma didn’t really want to open that can of worms.

So as she fought her way through the crowd, disappointment rose up within her because she knew she was leaving behind the first guy who drew her interest in a very long time.

*********

“Where’s Elsa?” Killian asked, once he found Liam still occupying the seat he sat in during the performance.

“She went to get the girls. I offered, but she insisted. She may knock their heads together after their antics on stage.”

Killian laughed. “Never a dull moment with those two, is there?”

“Not a single one. Thanks for coming, brother,” Liam said, standing up to clap Killian on the shoulder.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I told Missy and Alice I would try to make it and I didn’t want to let them down.”

“You’re a good uncle.”

“The best,” Killian smirked. Then his face took on a serious expression. “May I ask you something?”

“Sure. What’s on your mind?”

“Uh…how well do you know…Emma Swan?”

Liam’s brows raised. “She and Elsa are good friends, so I know her pretty well. Why do you ask?”

Killian scratched behind his ear. “I, um…I sat beside her this evening. I never met her before, but I…she…she seems very nice.”

Liam studied his brother for several moments. “Are you interested in her?” he queried.

His brother shrugged. “I just…we had a good conversation and I thought about…”

When he didn’t continue, Liam supplied, “Asking her out?”

Killian shrugged again. “I know. It’s a stupid idea. I mean, I just met her and we only talked for a few minutes, but…”

Liam stepped in front of him, placing both hands on his brother’s shoulders. “Killian, I know you had a rough go of it with Milah, but you can’t go through life never taking a chance again.”

“Emma probably wouldn’t accept…”

“You won’t know unless you try.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. She went to collect her son and then they’ll leave.”

“Then we’ll go find her before they do.”

“Liam…”

“Killian, a man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets.”

Killian considered his brother’s words for a few seconds. “You’re right. Let’s go see if she’s still here.”

The pair took off through the nearly empty auditorium. Liam led Killian down one hallway, then nearly ran into Elsa and the girls when they turned the corner.

“There are my lovely ladies,” Liam said, kissing first one of his daughters on the head, then the other. “Good job, my little reindeer.” Seeing the stern look Elsa was giving him, he added, “But perhaps next time you shouldn’t stand right next to each other.”

“It was Missy’s fault,” Alice began, before being cut off by her mother.

“I’ve already talked to you about this,” Elsa reprimanded. “You were both at fault and tomorrow, you will both apologize to Mrs. Nolan.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they chorused. Then they rushed to get a hug from their uncle.

“You came!” Alice cried.

“Told you he would,” Missy said. “Uncle Killy would never let us down, would you?”

“I can’t promise that I never will, but I’ll try my very best not to,” he assured them, one arm wrapped around each twin.

Liam pulled Elsa aside. “Did you see Emma?” he asked.

“Yes, she was picking up Henry at the same time I was getting the girls,” his wife answered. “Why?”

Lowering his voice so their daughters wouldn’t hear, he said, “Killian sat beside her during the performance and they seemed to hit it off. He was hoping to catch her before she left and ask her out.”

Elsa’s expression went from very excited to downcast. “I’m afraid they’re gone already.”

Killian caught what she said and his heart sank. He knew he missed his chance when he let her walk away.

Elsa saw the look on her brother-in-law’s face. “Girls, hug your uncle and tell him goodbye. I’m sure he needs to start back to Portland soon.”

Missy and Alice took turns getting big bear hugs from Killian, then Liam bid him goodbye and took the girls to the car, clearly aware that his wife wanted to talk to his brother alone.

Killian gave Elsa a questioning look. “What do you have up your sleeve?”

“Do you think Emma was attracted to you?”

He shrugged slightly. “I can’t say for sure, but we talked quite a bit and she seemed to like me.”

“The fact that she enjoyed talking to you leads me to believe she does. I love Emma, but she can be a bit prickly. I think you should ask her out.”

“Did you miss the part when you said she already left?”

“I’m going to give you her address, smart guy. Then you can go to her house.”

“Perhaps you should just give me her phone number instead.”

“You will not ask her out over the phone,” Elsa commanded. “That’s too impersonal.”

Killian nodded. “I see your point.” Pulling out his phone, he brought up Google Maps and typed in the address Elsa read from her contacts list. “It’s only a five minute drive.”

“Yes it is, which gives you less time to change your mind.” She gave him a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. “Now get going. Call us when you’re on the way home and let us know what happened.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, saluting smartly. When she rolled her eyes at him, he grew serious. “Thank you, Elsa.”

“You’re welcome. Now go turn on your charm.”

*********

Ten minutes later, Killian pulled up in front of the small, unassuming house where the GPS led him. After cutting the engine, he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, contemplating whether or not he should go through with his plan.

His phone buzzed with an incoming text.

Liam: Remember what I told you. Don’t lose your nerve.

Killian shook his head and snorted out a laugh. Sometimes it was almost scary how well his brother knew him.

“The worst that can happen is she turns me down. I can survive that, right?” he muttered to himself. “Well, I guess we’ll find out.”

He unbuckled his seatbelt, threw open his car door and climbed out. Then he walked up the short sidewalk, lined with lighted plastic candy canes. After knocking on the front door, he nervously brushed one hand through his hair, then tugged at the bottom of his black leather jacket.

The door swung open and he found himself looking down at the little drummer boy, still dressed in his cut off jeans and white shirt, sans the paper bag vest. They looked at each other for a couple of seconds, then Henry turned and yelled, “Mom! Some guy is here!”

“Henry, what have I told you about answering the…” Emma’s words cut off suddenly when she came into view. “Killian?” she questioned disbelievingly.

“Uh, hi. I, um…I hope you don’t mind me stopping by,” he stammered.

She looked flabbergasted. “How did you know where I live?”

“Elsa gave me your address. I hope that was okay.”

Henry looked back and forth between the two adults. “Do you mean Mrs. Jones? Alice’s mom?”

“And Missy’s,” Emma added distractedly.

“How do you know Mrs. Jones?” Henry asked.

“Killian’s brother Liam is Elsa’s husband,” Emma explained. “Henry, please go turn the burner off under the hot cocoa so it won’t burn.”

“If it’s ready, can I pour some…”

“Absolutely not. Do not touch the pan or anything else; just the knob for the burner.”

“But I…”

She put her arm around his shoulders. “After you turn off the stove, why don’t you go ahead and put your pajamas on. Just give me a couple of minutes to speak to Mr. Jones, okay?”

“You did a fine job on your drum solo tonight, lad,” Killian said.

Henry’s face brightened. “Do ya really think so?”

“Aye. You were the star of the show.”

A wide grin split the boy’s face. “Thanks! I practiced a lot!”

“Your mother told me you did. Practice makes perfect, they say.”

“I guess so. We can be in band next year and I want to play percussion.”

Killian snuck a glance at Emma, who closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. With difficulty, he kept from laughing, before answering, “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.”

“At least one of us will,” Emma mumbled, before reminding Henry about turning off the stove.

“Bye, Mr. Jones. Merry Christmas!” Henry shouted on his way out of the room.

“Merry Christmas to you, lad.”

“So, um, not to sound rude, but why are you here?” Emma asked as soon as they were alone.

He tried not to fidget as he thought of what to say. “I…I really enjoyed talking to you this evening.”

“I enjoyed talking to you, too.”

Encouraged, the corner of his mouth quirked up. “That’s good to hear. So, I was wondering if…if you would consider going out with me.”

“On a date?” she asked, brows shooting up.

“Aye, that’s the idea.”

“I can’t…”

Killian felt his stomach drop.

“...even remember the last time I went on a date.”

“Perhaps we should remedy that,” he suggested hopefully.

Emma pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing on it in contemplation. “I don’t know…”

“Go out with him, Mom!” Henry yelled from the kitchen.

“Really, kid?” Emma said, clearly exasperated.

Henry poked his head around the door frame. “I like him.”

“Weren’t you told to put your pajamas on?”

“I will. I just accidentally heard what Mr. Jones said.”

Emma crossed her arms and gave him a patented ‘mom look’. “Accidentally, huh?”

He shrugged. “I have good hearing.”

“Only when you want to have it,” she stated. “Now, go do as you were told.”

“Okay,” he sighed, trudging down the hallway to his room.

She turned back to Killian, dropping her arms to her sides. “Looks like you have my kid’s approval.”

He studied her for a few seconds. “What about you, Emma? Do I have your approval, too? Elsa said she would be happy to watch Henry for you if we go out.”

She hesitated, then lifted her chin decisively. “Yes, Killian. I would love to go out with you.”

*********

One year later…

Killian followed Emma down the aisle of the auditorium and grinned when he realized what seats she chose. After sitting down, he draped his arm around her shoulders and leaned over to murmur in her ear, “These seats seem familiar, Love.”

She snuggled against his side. “They’re very special, because this is where I met the love of my life.”

“What a coincidence,” he teased. “This is where I met mine, too.”

Elsa and Liam slid into the seats in front of them. “Hello, lovebirds,” Elsa grinned.

“Don’t encourage them,” Liam cautioned. “I already have to witness far too much PDA from those two.”

“You don’t have to watch, you know,” Killian said, lightly whacking the back of Liam’s head.

“Both of you behave,” Elsa said, as Emma giggled.

“Speaking of behaving,” Killian began, “do you think your daughters will make it through the concert without assaulting each other this year?”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Liam said. “I caught Missy trying to hit her sister over the head with her flute the other day.”

“Be happy it wasn’t the other way around,” Emma commented. “Alice could do some serious damage with her saxophone.”

They were still laughing when the fifth grade band shuffled onto the stage in all their Christmas finery, instruments held proudly in front of them. Emma and Killian immediately spotted Henry taking his place behind the snare drum. He smiled and gave them a quick wave before picking up his drumsticks.

“He looks so grown up,” Emma said quietly.

“Your little drummer boy isn’t very little anymore,” Killian observed fondly. He and Henry had a very close relationship and he loved the boy as his own.

“A lot has changed in the past year,” she sighed happily.

“Aye, Love. It’s been phenomenal in every way.”

Mary Margaret, who also instructed the fifth grade band along with teaching elementary music, walked out onto the stage, preparing to introduce their first song.

Emma settled against Killian’s side to enjoy the concert. A year ago, sitting in these very seats, neither of them could ever have imagined what that first meeting would mean to them.

As the band began playing Jingle Bells, Killian pulled Emma a little closer. His chest swelled with pride watching Henry concentrating on his music, as he beat out the rhythm on the drum. This year, Emma hadn’t had to endure his incessant practicing alone, since Killian moved in with them just before Thanksgiving.

Emma saw Killian glancing at his watch once the third and final song ended. “Are you anxious to leave? You know we still have to sit through the sixth grade and junior high bands, don’t you?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m aware. I was just trying to gauge what time it will be over.”

“I’d say the concert will last about an hour,” Liam threw over his shoulder.

Killian slumped a bit in his chair. Then he caught sight of Henry, who was sitting in a reserved section to their right with the rest of the fifth grade band. The boy beamed at him and gave him a thumbs up. Killian winked and returned his smile.

Last year, the evening of Henry’s concert ended with Killian asking Emma out on their first date. This year, he had a different question to ask when they got home, one for which Henry had already given his approval.

He hoped her answer would be the same as last year. If so, they would be sitting in these seats next year as husband and wife.

Kissing her temple, Killian impatiently waited for the sixth grade band to begin playing. He intertwined their fingers, imagining how her hand would look with the diamond engagement ring on it. When she turned her face up to look at him, love shining in her eyes, he knew the beauty of the diamond would pale in comparison to the lady wearing it.

*********

Liam’s estimate for the length of the concert was right on the nose. When they finally walked out of the auditorium, light snow was falling. The conversation in the car on the way home was warm and playful. Henry laughed about the sixth grade percussionist who dropped one of the cymbals in the middle of a song, and expressed his hope that when he got older, he would be the one to make the whip sound for Sleigh Ride.

“Lord, help us through seven more years of band,” Emma murmured under her breath, causing Killian to laugh, despite the nerves that were knotting his stomach.

As soon as they got home, Henry went into the kitchen to get the ingredients out for hot cocoa, dubbing it a tradition after the Christmas concert.

“Is it a tradition if this is only the second time we did it?” Emma asked.

“I don’t know,” Killian answered, “but I do know of another tradition that’s been around much longer.” He pointed at the top of the doorway between the living room and kitchen.

“When did you put mistletoe up there?” she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“This evening while you were getting dressed for the concert.”

“You’re very sneaky,” she said, leaning in until her lips were just a fraction of an inch away from his.

“And you love me for it,” he grinned.

“Mmhmm,” she hummed before kissing him.

“Pre-teen boy coming through,” Henry announced, squeezing past them. “I’m going to put my pajamas on. Please be done making out by the time I get back.”

Emma and Killian laughed into their kiss. “I think we’re scarring him for life,” he quipped.

“That’s what parents are for,” she replied.

Killian pulled back to look at her. “You consider me to be his parent?”

“You’re more of a father to him than Neal has ever been.”

He surged forward to kiss her again. When it finally ended, he asked, “Do you think Henry regards me that way, too?”

“I’m sure he does.”

“Does what?” Henry asked, re-entering the room, now dressed in plaid Christmas pajamas.

“Do you think of Killian as one of your parents?” Emma asked.

“Well, duh,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Can we make hot chocolate now?”

Emma tried to give Killian a look that said I told you so, but he was gazing at Henry with a sense of wonder over the boy’s declaration.

Once the cocoa was gone and Henry was off to bed, Killian and Emma lay together on the sofa. The living room was lit only by the gas fireplace and the lights from the Christmas tree, while Christmas music played softly.

“This is nice,” she sighed.

He hummed in agreement, stroking his hand up and down her back. His thoughts were preoccupied with the perfect way to propose, so he almost missed what she said next.

“Marry me, Killian.”

His hand on her back stilled as his mind registered what she just said. “Wh-what?”

She pushed up on her elbows to look into his face. “Marry me.”

“Swan, you’re depriving me of a dashing proposal!” he protested.

She cocked her head, studying him. “Are you serious?”

He slid out from under her to kneel on the floor in front of the couch, reaching into the pocket of his sleep pants to retrieve the ring and holding it up for her to see.

Her eyes widened as she swung her feet down to the floor. “Oh. My. God. You really were going to propose, weren’t you?”

“Aye.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Mad? Why would I be mad? Since you asked me first, I’m pretty sure I know what your answer is going to be,” he chuckled.

“You still have to ask. That’s the rule.”

“Whose rule?”

“Mine. Now, let’s hear that dashing proposal.”

He grinned, then cleared his throat. “Emma, you and Henry have changed my life in every way possible. I never knew happiness like this even existed, let alone that it would happen to me. There aren’t enough words in this world to express how much I love you, but right now, there’s only one word I need to hear in response to this question - Emma Swan, will you marry me?”

Tears filled her eyes when she opened her mouth to answer, but emotion clogged her throat, so she nodded emphatically and threw her arms around him. As he held her tight, kissing her and murmuring words of love, she finally found her voice. “Yes, Killian, I will marry you! I love you so much!”

She pulled away, wiping at her eyes. “Henry and I are very lucky to have you in our lives. I know I’m speaking for him too when I say we want you to be part of our family forever.” Framing his face with her hands, she leaned in to kiss him again.

“Do you want the ring?” he asked against her lips.

She giggled and sat back, extending her left hand to him. He slid the ring into place and kissed her knuckle above it.

“It’s perfect,” she breathed.

“You are perfect, my love.”

“Says the man who complains when I leave wet towels on the floor,” she teased.

“Well…nearly perfect,” he grinned.

She held her hand up to admire the ring, the lights of the Christmas tree making the diamond glitter. “We’re engaged,” she said, awestruck.

“Mmhmm. Who would have thought that a little drummer boy and two feuding reindeer would bring us together and give us a happy ending?”

Her eyes met his, laughter and love dancing in them. “Best night of my life, hands down. Until today,” she amended.

Kissing the tip of her nose, he whispered, “Happy Christmas, wife-to-be.”

“Merry Christmas, husband-to-be.”

He stood up and took her hand to help her to her feet. Then they went to their bedroom to share the best gift of all - the love they had for each other.

*********

My heartfelt wishes for all of you to have a blessed and memorable Christmas!

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