#csss 17

“Oh yes, getting drunk is gonna help so much.” Emma scoffed, managing to untangle her fingers from the troublesome strand in her hand to shove the drink back towards him lightly. “We’re already two weeks late, Killian. I wanted this year to be so special and thanks to us being…” She waved her hand around her in frustration. “Us, off realm hopping to keep this damn place safe from yet another dumb villain, it’s late and basically we’re the worst parents ever and she’s not even two yet!”

Killian stared at her patiently, once more reaching the rum-chocolate out towards her. He shook it a fraction, one brow raising in suggestion. As he suspected, Emma caved upon the second offering, taking it with an aggravated growl before pulling a healthy slug from the mug. “This isn’t gonna help.” She mumbled before moving to take another, smaller sip.

Hand now free, Killian started to extract his wife from the mound of wiring she’d managed to cover herself in. Emma whined in protest, mouth full of warm beverage, but didn’t make any move to stop his. She whined even more as he started to pull her to her feet, still not putting any effort into trying to get him to quit.

“I beg to differ, Swan.” He took one of her hands from where it was wrapped around the mug, using it to guide her away from the lights and toward the coffee table. The surface was littered in boxes and he unceremoniously shoved them to the floor with his hook, earning an exasperated ‘Killian’ from Emma. He ignored it, choosing instead to guide her so she was seated on the sturdy wood. She plopped down with a sigh, glancing up at him. “It’ll help you relax.”

Emma rolled her eyes, but took another sip from the cup anyways. “I don’t need to relax. I need to make it Christmas for our daughter like we didn’t already fuck it up.”

Taking the mug and setting it off to the side, Killian crouched down again. He pressed his hook against her knee and placed his hand against her cheek, slowly brushing his thumb against her warm skin. “We didn’t fuck it up, Emma.” The look she gave him was incredulous. It didn’t deter him. “As you said, our girl isn’t hardly two. She’s not gonna know the difference between the actual holiday and two weeks later. Especially not when those two weeks were spent frolicking around Arabian palaces and the snow banks of Arendelle.”

Emma snorted and grabbed for the drink again, causing Killian to sit back on his heels. His hook was still firmly anchored to her knee, the curve of it brushing up and down in small, soothing strokes. “I guess you’re right.” She shrugged reluctantly. She glanced down into the mug, thumb moving over the ceramic surface. “I just want her to have as normal a life as possible, you know?”

The way she looked at him, so earnest and open - trusting in a way that still made his heart soar, had Killian offering an understanding smile. “I know.” He leaned in and pressed a comforting kiss against her lips. When he pulled away, he didn’t go too far, resting his forehead against hers. “But darling, her parents are the Savior and Captain Hook.” He whispered conspiratorially, causing her to snort. It made him smirk. “Normal isn’t really what we deal in.”

“Just wit and rum.” She replied with humor in her voice.

Killian pulled back fully, smile widening as he went. “Aye.” He patted at her leg. “Now what say I get to work on untangling these dreadful lights while you fetch said rum? Might as well have a bit of fun while we go, hmm?” He lowered his gaze to look at her imploringly.

“Not fair.” She grumbled good-naturedly, leaning in to press their foreheads together once again. “You know I can’t resist the puppy pirate eyes.”

“Nor rum.” Killian whispered triumphantly.

Emma stuck out her tongue to blow an immature raspberry before kissing him again.

-----

In the end, they’d manage to get the majority of the decorations up without much fuss. Too much rum, perhaps, but Killian was more than willing to suffer the headache the next morning if the memories of Emma giggling her way through Christmas songs as she hung baubles on their half-priced fake Christmas tree was the payoff.

Even more worth it was the look of pure delight on his daughter’s face as Emma had carried her downstairs while he’d been preparing their morning coffee. She’d squealed in that way that was only hers, scrambling to get down from Emma’s arms so she could toddle her way towards the tree, where it seemed the glitz of the decorations was much more fascinating than the mound of presents underneath.

“Some pirate, that one.” Killian had muttered good-naturedly while handing Emma her cup.

She took it, not hesitating to take a hearty sip as she settled in against his side. “She still went for the pretty shiny shit, babe.” She offered with a grin, her free hand rubbing up and down his back.

The rest of the morning had consisted of two slightly hungover adults and one ecstatic toddler ooh-ing and aah-ing over all the pretty decorations around their house, before tearing into her gifts with a fervor that was only natural to a little girl lovingly spoiled by her parents. Emma’s parents had shown up around noon with the little prince, and the two children had gone to town with all of the new toys added to the collection that day.

Now Killian found himself relaxed back into the couch, his daughter in his lap, drowsily fiddling with one of her new plush friends - a crocodile, curse David and his sense of humor. His living room was a sea of playthings and bits of wrapping that had been missed in the initial clean up, and even the long-lived lieutenant in him couldn’t find a damn to give over the mess of it all. His two lovely lasses had had a grand day, and he wasn’t about to make a fuss.

“You guys did a good job.”

Killian started slightly, looking up from where he’d been lost staring at the twinkling lights on the tree, to find his father-in-law glancing down at him as he held out the cup of coffee he’d brought from the kitchen. Adjusting slightly, doing his best not to dislodge his girl, Killian took the steaming mug with an appreciative smile.

“Thanks, mate.” He said in response to the drink and David’s previous compliment.

David took a quick pull from his own cup before depositing in on the table and throwing himself back into the armchair next to Killian’s side of the couch. “Though don’t think I didn’t notice the empty bottle of rum in the garbage earlier.” He gave Killian a mock look of disapproval. “You’ve taught my daughter bad habits, pirate.”

“Can’t fault my wife for having excellent taste, your majesty.” Killian snarked back with an eyebrow raise. David snorted and rolled his eyes before closing them and relaxing deeper into the plush cushioning at his back. “Where’d Neal get to?”

Waving an errant hand in the general direction of the kitchen, David didn’t even bother to open his eyes as he answered. “Helping Snow and Emma put away dinner…” He peeked one eye open and turned his head to glance at Killian. “You know how excited he gets about clean-up.” He settled back again and closed his eyes once more. “Gets that from Snow.”

“Yes, and I know where Emma gets her cleaning habits from…”

“Hey, now.” Emma’s voice broke in before David had a chance to respond. Killian’s eyes followed her as she made her way over to him. “Not all of us went to the cleaning stick up the ass class at Naval Academy.”

“Emma, language!” Snow called from the kitchen, her voice carrying over the running water from the sink. “There’s kids around!”

Standing at the back of the couch, Emma gave Killian a saucy wink. “Oh, if she only knew.” She mumbled before leaning down and giving him a kiss from where he was looking upwards at her. Killian chuckled in the affirmative as their lips pressed together. “You didn’t hear that, dad.” She said as she pulled away, glancing to her right at her father.

David held up his hands in acquiescence. “I’m not the secret teller in this family.” He flinched as Snow’s ‘I heard that!’ carried in from the kitchen. “Oh, she doesn’t hear you guys, but me she hears…”

“True love has its downsides, Dave.” Killian teased before looking up at Emma once more. “Did you need me to help, love?”

She shook her head, placing her hand on his shoulder. “No. I was gonna head upstairs to change…” Emma looked down to her shirt, plucking at the fabric that Killian finally noticed was rather wet. “Neal is very liberal with his water usage.” She smiled at what would otherwise be an annoyance for anyone else. “Just checking to see if you wanted me to take little pirate upstairs to lay down?”

Killian looked down to their daughter still settled against his chest. It was obvious all the excitement from the day had caught up with her, her quietness an indicator more than anything else. As much as he hated to call it an end to her day, he figured it was probably best Emma did take her for a nap.

“Hope, my darling…” He murmured softly, causing sleepy blue eyes to peek up at him. “You want mama to take you to sleep?” The almost two-year-old shook her head, burying her face against his chest. “Come, little love.” He gently rubbed his hand up and down her side. “You should have a nap.”

She mumbled something into the fabric of his shirt and Killian glanced to Emma, who had leaned her arms down on the back of the couch to watch the exchange, to see if she’d understood. Emma merely shrugged, an adoring looking on her face as she watched on.

“What was that, love?”

Hope pulled back and gave him a tired, teary-eyed pout. “No -parkle uhstairs, papa.”

A heartwarming smile came to him and he snuck a look to Emma to see the same, her eyes shining with unabashed love for this child they’d brought into the world.

“You wanna sleep by the Christmas tree, babygirl?” Emma asked and Hope nodded, her eyes wide and pleading as she crushed the plush croc tightly to her cheek. Emma reached out and ran her fingers through the mess of blonde curls atop their daughter’s head. “Alrighty then.”

“Christmas camp out it is!” David cheered, still lounging in his chair. Hope looked at him and giggled, while Killian rolled his eyes towards his wife, who was still smiling madly.

-----

He once again found himself leaning against the wall by the stairs, surveying the scene in his living room. Where the night before had been piles of decorations, and just that morning a disaster zone of toys and paper, it was now a fortress of pillows and blankets and sleeping bags. Hope and Neal were conked out closest to the tree, their little faces pressed closed together. Not far from them, David and Snow had also succumbed to their exhaustion, his mother-in-law pressed up against his father-in-law’s side in the way Killian had first seen them sleep in Neverland.

It was one of the coziest pictures of domesticity he’d ever seen. His heart ached with the knowledge that at one point, it was something he’d never even imagined he’d be worthy of himself. A bloodthirsty, cold-hearted pirate, with all the history he’d blemished with darkness...

“No self-loathing tonight,” Emma whispered as she lifted his arm up so she could tuck herself in against his side. “I won’t allow it.”

Despite the gentle reproach in her tone, Killian found nothing but love in her gaze when he glanced down at her. He nodded, whispering an ‘okay’ in response before kissing her softly, breaking away a moment later to rub their noses together. She giggled and then settled her head against his shoulder. They both took a moment to appreciate the scene before them once more.

“I must say…” Killian finally whispered, squeezing her arm lightly. “Not too bad for fucking it up, eh, Swan?”

She slapped his chest gently. “You’re still not funny.”

Killian shifted his shoulders and rested his cheek atop her head. “I’m a riot, darling, and you know it.”

“Yeah...” She sighed. Her hand slid down and across his chest until it came upon his hook resting near his hip. She tugged slightly until it settled comfortably in her grip. “You’re a little funny.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Killian laughed, setting the boy down beside his mother. “One big boy pancake for our resident big boy,” he said, putting the plate in front of Henry. “With a side of bacon to share with him and Mum.”

Henry began tearing into his pancake when a nudge from his mother stopped him. “What do we say to Killian?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at her son.

“Fank yew, Killy!” Henry said through a mouthful of pancake. “Thanks, Killian,” Emma chuckled, taking a sip of coffee and nibbling on some bacon.

“Now, love,” Killian said, leaning against the counter of the bar. “Are you sure I can’t persuade you into something a bit more hearty and substantial? I’ve got a nice bear claw with your name on it.”

“No, no, I’m okay,” Emma laughed, though it didn’t escape Killian’s notice how Emma’s eyes went a bit wide and she licked her lips a little at the mention of the words ‘bear claw’. “But I might stop after I have my first meeting.

“Mommy is going to talk to Daddy about Christmas!” Henry exclaimed cheerfully. “Daddy is gonna ask Santa to get me presents instead of Mommy this year! And we’re going to go to Daddy’s house, all three of us together, and have Christmas with Daddy! We’re gonna go the whole weekend! Mommy is gonna pick me up after school and then we’re all gonna go get dinner together!”

One look at Emma’s face told Killian exactly how his friend felt about this. And one look at Henry’s also told him exactly why she was doing this. Neal, Emma’s ex “whatever”—as she liked to say—had come into town a few months prior, looking to reconnect with Henry and Emma.

Emma had kept him at arm’s length, but Henry embraced his father’s return to his life with all the love and joy in his little heart. Not that Killian blamed him. If he’d been young when his father returned, he probably would’ve done the same thing. Still, his heart twisted with sympathy when he saw how Emma’s lips tightened into a firm line. “Well that will be fun,” he encouraged the boy, wanting to keep the Christmas spirit up. “Christmas with you and your mummy and your daddy.” Henry nodded eagerly. He fished a quarter out of his pocket. “Here, whatever you want to play on the jukebox. Your choice,” he said. “Can I, Mama?” Henry asked excitedly, looking between her and Killian so quickly he was afraid the boy was going to get whiplash.

“Yeah, sure, kid,” Emma said fondly, giving him a second quarter. “Here. Have two quarters on your old mom.”

“You’re not old, Mommy,” Henry said seriously, before the other quarter and racing off to the jukebox.

Emma smiled as she continued to sip at her coffee. She raised an eyebrow in Killian’s direction when he realized he’d been watching her for a little too long. “If you stared at me any harder, you’d put a hole in my head,” she teased, giving him an easy smile. “And I’m pretty sure I’ll be getting those from my ex whatever all weekend. What are you thinking?”

Killian felt the color rise to his cheeks, but he leaned on the counter to talk to her. “Well, I was thinking that you’re a good Mum,” he started. He was also thinking that she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen and he was infernally jealous of her ex to get to see her lit up by tree lights. “I was also thinking if you needed an escape, I’d offer to help. Rights of the best friend and all. Besides, it’s not like I’ve a family or anything.”

Emma considered this and a slow smile spread across her lips. “All right,” she agreed.

Killian let out an uproarious laugh in spite of himself. “Emma Swan, accepting my help on the first go?” he teased her, leaning on his elbows. “A Christmas miracle, truly.”

“Oh, don’t start. Besides, you have to acknowledge that you still have family. You have me and Henry,” Emma complained good-naturedly, shoving him away playfully. She couldn’t help but smile into her coffee, but only when he nodded in acquiescence to her demands. “Henry’s so excited for this. And he’ll get something I never have. A full family Christmas.

Killian reached across the counter to hold her hand. “You are his family,” he reminded Emma seriously. “I’m sure he’d have been thrilled if it was just you two exchanging presents and then coming to mine for dinner like last year.”

“Yeah, but he’s three. Which means this will be the start of the Christmases that he’ll actually remember. And as much as I love how your apartment looked like Christmas threw up in there…I just…wanna give him everything,” Emma mumbled, starting to grimace. “God, that probably sounds so stupid.”

“Never stupid,” Killian replied softly. “Is there any way that I can help?”

“Recommend me a rum that I can get trashed on,” Emma muttered darkly. Meeting his eyes, her expression softened. “Nah, I’m a big girl. I’ll be okay, Killian. I think once we survive the dinner tonight, we should be okay.” She smiled, her thumb brushing across an imaginary speck of dirt across the mouth of the coffee cup. “You know the restaurant in the mall?” she asked. “The one that overlooks Santa’s workshop? I got us a seat by the window and that’s where we’re having dinner tonight.”

Killian smiled widely. “Oh, Henry will absolutely love that. I bet you anything that’s something he’ll remember more than Neal,” he offered, waggling his eyebrows to try and get her to laugh.

“No putting him down,” Emma said seriously, though she couldn’t help but smile at his eyebrow waggle. “Seriously, he is doing a great thing. He offered to buy all the presents, since I have for the last two years. He’s getting the food, everything. And he’s trying.”

“Is it working?” Killian asked, his expression falling a little.

Emma turned to look at her son, who was still scrolling through the music at the jukebox, Granny barking suggestions at him from the kitchen. “On Henry, yeah. And that’s all that matters, really.”

After a long day of grading final exams on the use of literary devices in Victorian prose and poetry, Killian was more than content to stretch out on his couch and put on a Christmas movie. The smell of Granny’s famous lasagna wafted through his nose. Going to his collection of Christmas movies, he began humming to himself before his finger stopped on “Love, Actually”.

“Now that’s not a proper Christmas movie is it?” he wondered out loud, privately wondering if he ought to indulge himself on what he conceived to be his grossly inappropriate crush on Emma by watching it. A knock on the door pulled him out of his thoughts, and he frowned.

He wasn’t expecting anyone, especially not at 10 o’clock at night. Killian walked to his peephole and peered through it. He only saw a red leather jacket and blond hair and he threw the door open. “Emma?” he asked worriedly.

Tears were running down her cheeks, her nose was pink from the cold and she was holding a sleeping Henry in her arms. “You…you said that I could come here if I needed to?” Emma sniffled, trying to keep her breathing under control so she wouldn’t wake Henry. “Aye, of course. I’ll take Henry, you sit on the couch, and you can tell me what happened, okay?” Killian murmured, taking the sleeping Henry from her arms. He brought Henry to his room, took the boy’s shoes off and tucked him into bed. He almost went right back to her, but decided to take a detour to the kitchen.

She hated the instant hot cocoa mix. But any port in a storm, he figured.

So, a few minutes later, he came back out with her favorite: hot cocoa with whipped cream and cinnamon. She weakly smiled and rest her head on his shoulder when he sat beside her on the couch. He put the cup of cocoa in front of her, but she didn’t touch it.

He quickly searched for “It’s A Wonderful Life” on the television, hoping he could find it because it was her favorite Christmas movie. He couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief when he found it, but he turned the volume on so low that it could just be heard underneath their conversation.

“This is stupid,” Emma croaked out, rubbing her eyes. “I work for the Boston PD for godssake. I track down criminals, I’ve seen crime scenes worse than any Law and Order episode. I shouldn’t be this upset about a stupid guy…”

“What happened?” Killian asked sympathetically, drawing an arm around her. She curled into him with a weepy little huff. He began to soothingly rub her back, hoping to keep her calm.

“It’s not even me I’m upset for, you know?” she asked, wiping at one eye with the heel of her palm. “It’s Henry! Because Neal was supposed to take care of everything, I don’t have anything. I don’t have Santa presents for him, I just have the presents from me! I don’t have a Christmas dinner; the stores are going to be swamped--”

“Slow down, love,” Killian told her, giving her a gentle squeeze. “Now, tell me what happened, and we can fix this together, yeah?” Like he didn’t have a guess as to what went down at their dinner tonight. “It’s gonna be okay, Swan. Everything’s gonna be all right.”

Emma swallowed the lump in her throat and started, “So Henry and I got a picture with Santa, and the line was long. We were running late. Like 45 minutes late for the time we said we were going to meet. And my phone was dead, so I couldn’t text Neal to tell him that we were running late.” She exhaled slowly, clenching and unclenching her right hand. Killian slipped his hand into hers without thinking, trying to give her something to hold onto, to anchor herself with.

“We got to the restaurant, and I’m all flustered and babbling because I think Neal is there, right?” she continued. “So the hostess goes to try and find him, and he’s not there in the restaurant. My first thought is that he was there, and that he left because we thought he bailed. I ask her if there’s a seat by an outlet so I can charge my phone.”

She squeezed his hand and exhaled again, and it broke his heart to see all the fight seemingly drained out of her. “She finds one because this hostess was honestly a miracle worker, and so I order a lemonade for Henry and a ginger ale for myself while we wait for my phone to charge.” She squeezed his hand. “My phone turned on, and there’s not a word from him. It’s like 8 at this point, which is an hour and a half after we agreed to meet. So I texted him, asking him if he’d tried to get in touch with me before.”

She let out a hollow sound that could’ve been a laugh. “He didn’t even answer me. I text again. I call his phone. I call his secretary, who said he’d gone home for the evening. I call his home. No answer. I’m texting him over and over, trying to get a word. I order Henry dinner, sugary drinks, anything. At this point the hostess knows something’s up so she just comes over with like twelve coloring pages and the three of us are sitting and coloring together.”

Emma let out a long breath, tucking her knees underneath her as she got more comfortable on Killian’s couch. “Finally, he answers me telling me that something’s come up, he can’t have us over for Christmas. And to tell Henry he’s really, really sorry and he’ll make it up to him another time.” She blinked and looked at Killian. “That was at 9:30. Henry was asleep at the table, so I just…paid, brought him to the car. And I didn’t want to go home. So we just came here.”

“Oh, Emma,” Killian whispered, squeezing her tighter. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, love. I’m so sorry.”

“How am I supposed to tell Henry that his Dad just didn’t show up for him?” Emma asked brokenly. “God, Killian, I’ve put my kid exactly what I went through and I never wanted that for him!” A sob clawed its way out of her throat and she seemed to crumple into him.

“No, no, love, you haven’t done that to him at all,” Killian whispered, rocking her back and forth. “You couldn’t control Neal’s actions and that boy knows you love him with your whole heart. He knows, Emma. He knows you love him.” An idea sparked into his head and his eyes brightened up. “We’ll just have to give him the best Christmas here then, aye? You’re already packed for the weekend, it’d break his spirits even more to go home.”

Emma bit her lip and turned her head away, starting to calm down at the reassurance from her best friend that she was in no way failing her son. “I don’t want to be an imposition,” she started, clearing her throat. “I can…I can pull this off. Just me and Henry,” she said determinedly. “I know I can.”

“Aye, I’ve yet to see you fail,” Killian said confidently.  “But who said you ever needed to do this alone?” He nudged her gently with his shoulder. “It’s not like I had Christmas plans. And two heads are better than one, yeah?”

Emma absolutely beamed at him.

The next morning found him cursing at pancake batter. He’d wanted to make it snowflake shaped for Henry’s sake, but he was absolutely failing.

“Google says to put it in a cookie cutter,” Emma called from the kitchen table.

“I did! It keeps running out when I remove the cookie cutter,” Killian grumbled.

“Are you waiting until the edges set?” Emma challenged.

“No, because I don’t want the cookie cutter to melt if I leave it in the pan for too long.”

“Killian, your cookie cutter is made of metal. It’s not gonna melt!”

“Why is there shouting?” Henry yawned, rubbing his eyes as he came into the kitchen. “An’why are we at Killy’s house?”

Emma worried her lip with her teeth. “C’mere, baby,” she murmured, scooping Henry up into her arms. “You know how we were supposed to go to Daddy’s this weekend and spend Christmas with Daddy?” The boy nodded. “Well, um…” She squeezed him a little bit tighter. “He won’t be able to have us over for Christmas anymore. That’s why he didn’t come meet us for dinner last night.”

It didn’t escape Killian’s notice that no matter how upset she was, Emma didn’t do anything to bad mouth Neal in front of Henry.

“Oh,” Henry said softly. His eyes began to water, and his little lip began to wobble. “Does that mean no Christmas?” he asked, looking up at Emma.

“No, no, no,” Emma soothed, pressing her forehead to his. “No, baby. Of course there’s still gonna be Christmas. We’re just gonna have Christmas with Killy. Is that okay?” Henry nodded but buried his face into Emma’s shirt. “Oh, I know, kid. I know. It is really disappointing. I know how much you wanted to see Daddy and spend Christmas with Daddy. I know. I know, kid.”

The little boy clung to her a little bit tighter and she cupped her hand around his head. “It’s okay to be upset. You just cry it out and when you’re ready to talk, Mommy will be right here to listen, okay?” she whispered. Henry nodded again.

Killian was more determined than ever to make the pancakes perfect so that the little boy would smile and have a better start to his Christmas. Henry’s mother deserved that as well.

“Mama?” Henry asked against Emma’s neck after a little bit of time. “How will Santa know where to bring the presents?”

 “Well,” Emma said brightly, situating Henry so she could look him in the eye. “Santa is magic, so he’ll know that you’re not with Daddy like you told him you were going to be in your letter. So, Santa will know to drop off the presents at Killian’s instead.” She tickled the boy gently and smiled brighter when he began to laugh.

“Can we write a letter to make sure?” Henry asked, looking up at her, starting to shrug off his disappointment.

“Of course we can,” Emma murmured fondly, pressing her forehead together.

Killian was so distracted just watching mother and son, that he left the cookie cutter on a little too long. This time, however, the pancake batter didn’t run when he removed it.

“Told you,” Emma said smugly.

He couldn’t find it in his heart to be all that annoyed with her, though he did flick some pancake batter in her general direction.

“How was shopping, love?” Killian asked that night after Henry had gone to bed. The two had decided it was better to divide and conquer. Killian took Henry sledding and ice skating while Emma had gone food and Santa shopping. The idea was to wear Henry out so much that he’d sleep through all the gift wrapping. 

“I only got the food,” Emma agonized, putting her forehead against the table. “Work called when I was out food shopping, they needed me to come in for a bit. I made sure to run here and put the food away, but then I was there for hours and when I came out, all the stores were closed.”

“He finished his letter to Santa before he went to bed, by the way,” Killian murmured, sitting beside her. “He made me swear not to read it, but desperate times, aye, love?”

“I’m not even going to be able to get him what he wants for Christmas,” Emma muttered, not moving her forehead from the table. “All the stores are closed and there’s no way I’m going to make some poor Amazon worker do a Christmas day delivery.” She closed her eyes. “I don’t know what to do, Killian.”

Killian gently squeezed her shoulder and pulled Emma into his arms. “Hey,” he murmured. “I think that you should borrow one of my bath bombs, lock yourself in the bathroom for an hour to soak and let me figure all this out. Okay?”

Emma shook her head. “You’ve spent so much time with him today. Let me at least figure this one out so I don’t feel like a total failure of a mom,” she muttered.

“You’re not a failure,” Killian rebuked. “And I shan’t hear of anyone talking about my best friend like that.”

She laughed weakly, picking her head off the table. “Fine. No failure talk. But how the hell am I  actually going to get toys for a three year old on Christmas Eve after sundown?” she wondered out loud, trying not to feel defeated again. “I don’t even know what he asked for from Santa, I gave that first letter to Neal and didn’t read it because I didn’t think I’d have to worry about it.”

“Well, let’s see what he wants first and go from there,” Killian suggested. Emma and Killian moved in closer together to read Santa’s letter together.

“Dear Santa,” the letter read. “I am veree sorree that I am righting you on Christmas Eve.”

“It was very important to him that he spelled Christmas Eve correctly,” Killian laughed.

“Let me finish reading,” Emma said exasperatedly.

“My Mommy and I arnt at my Daddy’s house. We are at Killy’s house. Pleez bring our presents here. Pleez also getted Killy a nice present beecuz he is nice. Thank u. Henry Swan,” the letter finished. Emma’s finger traced along some of Henry’s askew lettering a fond and loving look on her face. Killian couldn’t help but smile at Henry’s big heart.

But of course, now they were faced with a huge problem: they had no idea what Henry wanted for Christmas.

“Okay,” Emma said, starting to pace back and forth in Killian’s kitchen. She didn’t look agitated anymore, just trying to put the pieces together. “Let’s brainstorm and see if we can get this done. We’ve got about ten hours to put this together. We can do this. We will do this. I’ve got a friend whose dad makes wooden toys for a living and he owes me a couple of favors. What about you?”

“Let me go through my contacts and figure it out.”

Five hours, and a few incredibly desperate favors called in later, Emma and Killian crashed onto the couch, too tired to make it anywhere else. Henry’s presents were beautifully wrapped underneath the tree, and the ones from “Santa” were appropriately tagged.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” Emma mumbled. “My brain’s wired. I don’t think I can sleep. What if he doesn’t like his gifts?” Her fingers drummed anxiously against the side of the couch and her leg was bouncing nervously.

Killian turned on the television. “Let’s get a few hours of sleep in before we worry about that, okay?” he murmured, on the verge of sleep himself.

“Okay.” Emma cuddled into his side, rolling over to watch the television. “Move, you’re pushing me off the couch.”

Killian nodded and shuffled, situating them so Emma’s head was resting on his chest. “Better?” She nodded. His hand began idly rubbing her back. “You know, Swan. I hate to alarm you, but we make a good team.”

He felt the smile against his shirt rather than saw it. “Yeah, I already knew that we were a good team,” she murmured. “I was just waiting for you to get with the program.”

“Oh yeah?” When did you first figure it out?” he whispered into her hair. She didn’t answer. “Swan?” he rasped, looking down at her. “Swan?” he gave her a gentle little shake.

Emma was already fast asleep in his arms.

He didn’t have the heart to move her.

“It’s Christmas!” Henry hollered, startling them both from sleep. “Wake up! Wake up! It’s Christmas!”

Emma and Killian both roused at the same time, blushing when they realized how they had fallen asleep the night before. They both opened their mouth to apologize, to explain, when the boy clambered up on the couch between them.

“What are you doing out here?” Henry asked curiously, looking between the two adults. “Were you waiting for Santa to come?” 

“Yep, that’s right, buddy,” Emma said, sitting on the other end of the couch, pulling Henry into her lap. “We were waiting for Santa. We wanted to make sure that he could give you your gifts even though we ended up not being at your Dad’s house.”

Killian sighed. Right. There was no way that he could actually have a future with Emma Swan. Not like that anyway.

And it was fine, really.

As much as he loved her, he wanted her happiness more.

“C’mon, let’s open presents!” Emma exclaimed excitedly, tickling her son. Henry squealed with delight and allowed himself to be set on the floor.

The boy rushed to the tree, yelling, “Presents!” at the top of his lungs. He immediately dug through the pile and ignored several with his name on it. At last, he found one with his mother’s name on it and brought it to her. Then he went back to the pile and made sure to find one for Killian and put the package on his lap. Only then would Henry take one for himself and began to open it.

When Killian looked back at Emma, surprised he had gotten anything at all from Santa, Emma just smiled slyly and went about opening her gift.

Killian painstakingly opened the gift. It was a wooden swan and inscribed on the back read, “To our favorite honorary Swan. Love, Emma and Henry-2017”. He felt his eyes well with tears and suddenly he felt two pairs of arms around him.

“We really do love you,” Emma whispered softly, tightening her grip around him. “Thanks for making this the best Christmas ever.”

He was content to hold them for a little while longer, but Henry had other plans. The boy pulled back out of their hug with a mischievous giggle. “You’re under mistletoe! You have to kiss!” he declared, standing on his toes to hold the mistletoe over Killian’s head.

Killian looked at Emma, ready to diffuse the situation with a quick explication and perhaps a distraction with bacon. But Emma grabbed him by the collar of his shirt into a kiss.

“I’ve been waiting forever to do that,” she admitted against his lips when they broke apart.

“We better do it one more time,” Killian murmured gently pressing his forehead to hers. His thumb gently trailed across her cheek, his eyes cataloguing her facial expression to make sure that this was what she wanted. “Just to make sure it was real.”