The Set-Up Scam
Summary: Theyâve always been friends first and foremost - Emma and Killian, Killian and Emma - until suddenly, theyâre something a little more too. But with a $600 betting pool on the line about when theyâll actually get together - well, maybe thereâs incentive to keep the good news a secret. ~5.5k. Rated T for language. Also on Ao3.Â
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A/N: Merry Christmas, @nevertothethird! I was delighted to be your pair for @cssecretsanta2020. Itâs been wonderful chatting with you, and I look forward to a full stalking. ;)
You said you liked secret dating, friends to lovers, and characters being forced to work together - so I, like a fool, tried to include all three. I hope you like the result!
Special thanks, as always, to my beta, @snidgetsafan - the greatest treasure under any tree.
Tagging: @ohmightydevviepuu, @welllpthisishappening, @thisonesatellite, @let-it-raines, @kmomof4, @scientificapricot, @thejollyroger-writer, @superchocovian, @teamhook, @optomisticgirl, @winterbaby89, @searchingwardrobes, @katie-dub, @snowbellewells, @spartanguard, @phiralovesloki, @profdanglaisstuff
Enjoy - and let me know what you think!
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Theyâre friends, first and foremost. Best friends, really - Killian and Emma, Emma and Killian. Partners in crime and two peas in a pod and every other clichĂ© there is (and Killian would definitely know all of them). Itâs been that way since the very beginning, when Killian let her peek at his attendance quiz answers in that awful intro to astronomy class in college. Their relationship had grown from there: late nights in the library and each othersâ dorm rooms, studying or watching movies or chatting, all the way through graduation and eventually grad school. They get each other in a way that usually doesnât happen for Emma, both coming from rough backgrounds and determined to make the world a better place because of it. Hell, they even work together now at Misthaven County Middle School - Killian as an English teacher, and Emma as a guidance counselor.Â
And all that time, itâs been strictly platonic.Â
Itâs not like Emma hasnât looked. Heâs an objectively good looking man, and smart and sweet and funny. But heâd been in some âitâs complicatedâ situation with a grad student when theyâd met, and then Emma was in that weird period where she and Graham gave it a shot, and by the time they were both available⊠well, by that time, theyâd been Emma and Killian. Killian and Emma. A collective, a pair, absolutely entwined every way but romantically. Heâd become her person, and it wasnât worth risking that. There was no guarantee a romantic relationship would work out, anyways - or that Killian felt the attraction too.Â
The thing, though, is that theyâre Emma and Killian. Killian and Emma. Always together, always in each otherâs stories, two birds of a feather. People constantly think that theyâre together - or should be.
Emma doesnât really mind, most of the time. She and Killian usually think itâs pretty funny, trading stories back and forth on his or her couch. Where it gets annoying is when each and every one of their friends are determined they should be dating. Itâs been years of meaningful looks and hints about âso why arenât you seeing anyone, Emma?â - but the last straw is the stupid, stupid bet.
âI just donâ unnerstand why you and Killian arenât a couple!â slurs Mary Margaret, assistant principal and friend, at her yearly end-of-summer bash. âYouâre ovviously in loooooooooove.â
âSure we are, Mary Margaret,â Emma placates.Â
âBut why havenât you yet?â she demands. âYou made me lose the pool!â
That draws Emma up short. âIâm sorry, what?â
The little pixie-haired brunette frowns. âDonât you know? Weâve had a betting pool going for ages about when youâd get together this year. I thought for sure itâd be the Fourth of July.â
Itâs a good guess, actually - Ruby throws a famously boozy bash every year at her grandmotherâs diner, conveniently situated right below the inn. Itâd make sense for them to get drunk and take things upstairs - except for the fact that none of this is rooted in sense in any way, shape, or form.
âThat obviously didnât happen,â Mary Margaret frowns sorrowfully, staring down into her plastic cup full of god-knows-what. It doesnât last long, though, as she perks right back up. âBut they let me make a new guess! Iâve got my money on the Friday after your birthday.â
âHow much money are we talking here?â Emma canât help but ask. Itâs like a compulsion, one she doesnât like or understand.Â
âFive hundred and fifty dollars.â At least thatâs what she thinks Mary Margaret says; the slurring gets particularly bad on the f-sounds. Itâs an astounding sum. Truly stupid.
Kind of tempting.
âAnd everyone bet that it would happen this year?â she makes sure to clarify.
âYup!â Mary Margaret pops the p-sound and then giggles to herself about the noise.Â
âThen Iâm putting fifty dollars on it not happening this year. That Killian and I wonât get together.â
âââ
She means it at the time, too. Because yeah, thereâs sometimes that niggling little what if?, but theyâve known each other for eight years. Emma and Killian. Killian and Emma. Itâs not going to happen - honestly sheâs not even sure she would want it to.
Until.Â
Itâs not the Friday after her birthday, when theyâre all going to hit the bar, but itâs the night before her birthday - a Tuesday. Killian comes over to grade vocab quizzes and eat greasy pizza, and stays to drink beer and watch stupid baking shows with her on the couch. Honestly, in so many ways, itâs a night like any other: two friends, just enjoying each otherâs company.
Until.
Maybe itâs the beers. Maybe somethingâs been building for longer than she ever thought. Maybe itâs just that theyâre both feeling good and, well, it is her birthday. But Killian kisses her - or she kisses Killian - they kiss each other and itâs like something slots into place. Like of course this was going to happen - they were just waiting for the perfect moment. It makes sense, in a way that Emma hasnât let herself think about; heâs the person she trusts most, the best man she knows, probably the most important person in her life. Her best friend - and, probably, something more.
âThat wasâŠâ he gasps, some indeterminable amount of time later. Somehow, heâs wound up on top of her on the couch - not that sheâs complaining.
âOnly the beginning,â Emma completes, smirking in a way she definitely picked up from him.Â
Now that this has started, she has no intention of stopping.Â
âââ
âOk, donât kill me - or, like, run away immediately - but I need a favor. A huge one,â Emma says much later, both of them naked and sated beneath her sheets.
Killian laughs beside her, peering up from the pillows with a smile. âAfter that, darling, Iâm predisposed to give you just about anything you want.â
âAnd Iâll give it to you again,â she quips back, mostly to make him keep laughing. It works. âBut seriously. Did you know that everyoneâs got a bet going on us?â
That pops his head up. âIâm sorry, a bet? I⊠What? Who?â
âSeems like pretty much everyone. Ruby, Mary Margaret, David, Robin, Belle⊠I could go on and on. A six hundred dollar pool on when we get together.â
âTypical,â Killian mutters - though Emma catches a fond note in his tone. âWhoâs the lucky winner, then?â
âOk, this is where the favor comes in.â Hopefully this isnât a breaking point for him; Emma would hate to have this taste of them, only to have it ripped away from her. âSee, Mary Margaret told me about this when she got trashed at the back to school party, and Iâd had a few too and was all hopped up on righteous fury or whatever, and I kind of⊠put fifty dollars in the pot that we wouldnât get together this year at all.â
Killian stares at her for a moment, and Emmaâs frankly scared that heâs going to get out of bed and go - but instead, he bursts into a near-hysterical cackle. âSo you want to keep this a secret until the new year, so you can win the pot?â
Emma grins, knowing she must look like the cat that ate the canary (or however that weird-ass saying goes - again, English is Killianâs thing). âExactly. We could spend it on a weekend getaway or something.â
âIâm in, then. Under the radar.â
âItâs just two months and change,â Emma says. âItâll speed by. How hard can it be?â
âââ
Turns out - their friends are determined to make it as hard as possible. Even if they donât know it.
Things are fine, at first. In fact, nothing really changes: Emma and Killian still show up at each othersâ doors most nights, and Killian comes to hang out and grade papers in her office during his free periods most days. Itâs just that their evenings are now filled with kisses and touches, and those afternoons in her office with all kinds of promises of things to come. Itâs thrilling, in a way, to put on the front of normality for everyone else while only they know the truth. Itâs nice, too, to be able to get their feet underneath them in this relationship without so many prying eyes watching them figure it all out.Â
Just because they donât know, though, doesnât mean their friends stop trying. Thereâs a bet on the line, after all, and their friends have never exactly been ones to step back and let things naturally run their course. Not for those busybodies; not with six hundred dollars and Emma and Killianâs supposed happiness on the line.
(The fact that theyâre right - that the two of them really are happiest together - is irrelevant.)
David, of all people, is the first to start meddling.
âDo you guys want to get dinner?â he asks out of the blue one day - calls Emma up on her phone and everything. âYou and Killian and me and Mary Margaret, I mean.â
Emmaâs antenna raises immediately. âWhat, like a double date? Câmon, David ââ
âNo! No,â he says hastily - a little too hastily, Emma thinks. âNo, a cousin of mine - Kris, youâve met him - heâs opening up his own restaurant. Some place with Scandinavian food, I guess?â
âThatâs actually a thing?âÂ
âI guess. I donât know, he studied abroad in Norway in college. Anyways, he could use a little business, support or whatever, so Mary Margaret and I figured weâd bring some extra people along. You know, help him out. And maybe Scandinavian food is good after all.â
âYeah, maybe.â
The line sits silent for a moment, before David breaks. âSo⊠you in?â
And as much as Emma suspects this is all some elaborate set-up - well, itâs supposed to be to help someone else. Davidâs cousin, who she has in fact met and is really a good guy. And so she reluctantly agrees. âYeah, Iâm in. One of us will have to check with Killian if heâs available ââ
âWhat, heâs not right there with you?â
(He is, his lips kiss-swollen and pulled into a delicious smirk, but thatâs not the point and none of Davidâs business.)
â â but yeah, Iâm down.â
In the week between the call and the dinner, Emma actually finds herself starting to look forward to it. Yeah, it wonât be a real date - not with David and Mary Margaret there - but itâs still a chance to wear a pretty dress thatâll make Killianâs eyes bug a little. Sheâll have to pick something heâll have fun taking off of her later, once theyâve pretended to go back to their own homes.Â
Emmaâs just pulling into the parking lot, however, when her phone rings, Davidâs name popping up on the screen.Â
âWeâre not going to make it tonight,â he says without preamble, followed by the most fake-ass cough Emmaâs ever heard in her life. âWeâre sick.â
âYeah, sick off your own lies,â Emma mutters. âAlright, well, I guess weâll go another time ââ
âOh no, I insist you guys still have dinner. You and Killian deserve to have a night off!â
âDavid, câmon, donât play dumb ââ
He ignores her. âBesides, youâll be doing me - and Kris - a huge favor. I already told him to charge whatever you guys get to me. Splurge a little, have dessert and a bottle of wine. Itâs all on me.â
Killian climbs out of his own car as David pleads his case, cocking his head in confusion at the no doubt frustrated look on Emmaâs face. He looks like he wants to kiss it better; Emma wishes he could actually do so.
âFine,â she caves. âIf youâre sure. But Iâm running up the bill.â
âYou say that like itâs a surprise.â
Emma takes particular glee in ending the call. She should have seen this coming. âLooks like David has come down with a possibly fatal cough, so he and Mary Margaret arenât coming tonight,â she tells Killian, rolling her eyes. No need to resist that particular urge.
He snorts. âAh, liar-itis. I thought he might be coming down with a case.â
âComplicated by meddlerâs cough. Donât forget that.â
âOf course not.â He dips down to capture her lips in a gentle, lingering kiss - another urge they donât have to resist with none of their friends around to see it. âYou look lovely tonight, Swan.â
She smirks back. âI know.â
âOf course you do,â he laughs. âIâm sure you wore that just to torment me through dinner. Now, shall we?â
âWe shall.â Emma slips her hand through his offered arm. âDinnerâs on David, by the way.â
âIâd expect nothing less.â
âââ
âSo, how was dinner?â David asks the next day, his cough mysteriously cleared up.Â
âGood,â Emma replies, knowing exactly what heâs digging for. âYour cousinâs got a good lingonberry cheesecake. Donât worry, Killian and I totally ran up the bill. Kris has been well supported. Youâre welcome.â
âAnd?â he demands.
Emma makes sure to play up her confusion. âAnd⊠what? It was a great dinner, might even go back if I ever have a date, and then I went home. Honestly, what did you expect to happen, David?â
Even through the phone, she can almost hear him audibly deflate. Something like a sigh, or perhaps the sound of his entire plan collapsing in on itself. Personally, Emma thinks itâs hilarious.
(Itâs especially funny when she vividly remembers the way Killian had stripped her out of that dress, can still feel the scratch of his beard on her inner thighs.)
(But again - those are things that David doesnât need to know.)
âââ
The set-ups multiply like rabbits, and Emma starts to notice her and Killian being forced into more and more situations together, just the two of them. Fuck only knows why they think these clumsy attempts will work; after all, Emma and Killian held out for 8 years of each otherâs company before finally getting together (without anyoneâs help, she might add). Still,Â
Trivia night is a weekly tradition for them all, down at the Rabbit Hole. Some weeks, the turnout is good; sometimes, not so much. They usually meet up at someoneâs house and carpool from there because thereâs not a ton of parking spots outside the bar, and itâs always worked well - two, maybe three cars instead of a half dozen or more. Itâs a good time, and Emma always finds herself looking forward to Thursdays.Â
Tonight, theyâve met at Robinâs, Killianâs former roommate. Itâs a good crowd tonight, too - Robin and his fiance Marian, Mary Margaret with David, Belle the librarian, Ruby and Mulan, even Graham and Lance and Tink. The gangâs all here, probably trying to let loose a bit before holiday obligations set in, and theyâre raring to go - all twelve of them.
Emma hopes that itâs not planned - that there just happen to be two cars and then some worth of people here - but itâs more likely planned. Robin probably twisted their arms to come, just for this.
âEmma, would you mind checking the door one more time?â he calls as they congregate in the driveway. âIâm sure I locked it, but Iâve just got that niggling little feelingâŠâ
âSure, no problem.â And it isnât - itâs checking the damn door. Except itâs actually winding down his stupidly picturesque front garden path to the front door, and then having to maneuver around the always-unlocked outer glass door to make sure that the real door is locked, and then maneuvering and winding and everything back⊠and by the time Emma makes it back, everyoneâs already piled into Mary Margaretâs station wagon and Robinâs little SUV, even the middle seats everyone usually hates, leaving just the conniving man himself and Killian standing on the asphalt.Â
âSorry, looks like the two of you will be riding together,â Robin says, not seeming remotely sorry. âThis is convenient anyways! I know how much time you two spend together, if you decide that itâs easier to crash together afterwards⊠it wouldnât be a problem for the extra car to stay here overnight.â
âOh, Iâm sure it wouldnât be,â Emma grumbles. âI donât suppose you have any underlying motive here, do you Robin? Say, to the tune of six hundred dollars?â
âI donât know what youâre talking about!â he responds cheerily. âI just really, really want you to know that you can keep your options open. And, you know, other euphemistic things if the urge moves you.â
Asshole.
(Emma does not leave her car at Robinâs overnight - but that doesnât stop Killian from meeting her at her place afterwards.
âThis euphemistic enough for you, love?â he teases as Emma pulls at his shirt, trying to tug the cotton tee over his head.
âHowâs this for a euphemism: fuck me.â
âThatâs not exactly how that word works, Swan.â
âI could not possibly give fewer shits about semantics than I do right now, Killian, unless it somehow relates to you getting your pants off.â
Somehow, even in the midst of their frantic stripping, he manages to laugh. âAs you wish.â
Sheâs always preferred straight talking anyways.)
âââ
âThank god I found you both!â Mary Margaret declares, bursting into Emmaâs office a little too dramatically for her tastes. Until now, she and Killian had been having a wonderful lunch together, but thatâs obviously a thing of the past now.Â
âThat seems a little extreme for a Friday,â Killian comments mildly as he sets his cafeteria burger back down on the styrofoam tray. Personally, Emma thinks the cafeteria food is disgusting, but Killianâs got a real fondness for the cheeseburgers, and especially the french fries. No oneâs perfect, she guesses. âWhat terrible impending tragedy can Emma or I save you from, Mary Margaret?â
âKathrynâs father is in the hospital, so she and Fred canât work their assigned booth at the Winter Carnival tomorrow.â Storybrooke County School Districtâs charity carnival is a tradition every winter - one Mary Margaret takes very seriously. Something thatâs clearly about to come back and bite them all in the ass. âWould you two be able to cover tomorrow? Youâd be doing me such a huge favorâŠâ
Killian raises a single eyebrow as he turns to meet Emmaâs eye - that eyebrow that always seems like a dare. âMy scheduleâs clear this weekend. Count me in. What do you say, Swan, think you can find room in your schedule to save Mary Margaret from the tragedy of all tragedies?â
Emma rolls her eyes at the way heâs putting it on thick, but truth be told, her only plans had been spending the day with Killian. Might as well. âSure, what the hell,â she says, reaching for another bite of her microwave pizza. âI donât have anything else going on.â
In retrospect, Emma realizes that Mary Margaret could have done something terrible with this - assigned them to the kissing booth or something. God, she hopes that thereâs not a kissing booth at a middle school carnival, but it feels like just the kind of thing sheâd pull. Thankfully, theyâre set up at the ring toss game. Itâs not strenuous in the least; they donât even have to take money, just paper tickets. Really, the only questionable thing is that theyâre crammed right together in the box formed between the booth walls and the counter and the table of bottles behind them. Maybe thatâs something that would have bothered her a few weeks ago, back when they were Emma and Killian but not Emma and Killian. Now, itâs just an excuse to get right up in his space and enjoy all those little touches, right under everyoneâs nose.
(Maybe, every time they have to duck under the counter to retrieve poorly-thrown rings, Killian takes the opportunity to steal a quick kiss while no one else can see. And maybe - just maybe - Emma uses those same opportunities to steal her own kisses right back.)
âSoooooo, howâs it going?â Mary Margaret chirps when she pops up out of nowhere mid-afternoon. Itâs like she thinks sheâll find them making out in the middle of the carnival or something. Which⊠fair. The urge is there. But theyâre professionals - and Emma wants that money, dammit. Sheâs not caving here.
âJust fine, Mare,â Emma replies. âNothing worth reporting.â
âThereâs not? You two are looking awfully cozy in there⊠nothing to report?â
âWell, youâre the one who set up the booths, soâŠâ
âAye, just making the best of it,â Killian helpfully adds.
Emma almost feels guilty about the way that Mary Margaret visibly deflates.
âYou know this was another ridiculous set-up, right, love?â Killian asks once their friend has walked away. âShe probably never even needed our help. It was all a ploy.â
âI see it now,â Emma sighs. âI had just weirdly hoped sheâd be above all that bullshit.â
Killian quirks that eyebrow yet again. âMary Margaret? Infamous meddler? Of course not. Itâs cute that you thought that though, darling.â
âOh, shut up.â
(âMary Margaret told me to take the weekend off, that theyâd over-scheduled,â Kathryn tells Emma later when she tries to ask how the other womanâs father is doing. âWas that not the case?â)
(Fucking figures.)
âââ
Ruby, frankly, is not a surprise. In fact, if there was one person Emma would figure would be pulling this bullshit, itâs Ruby. The girlâs too competitive for her own damn good - not to mention that mile-wide chaotic streak running through her soul.
âPucker up!â she crows, thrusting what Emma assumes is a sprig of mistletoe over her and Killianâs heads. Theyâre at Ruby and Mulanâs place for⊠some party; itâs probably, maybe holiday themed, but Rubyâs never needed an excuse to throw a party. Anything to get them all drunk and laughing and forgetting about the stresses of the week.
âAre you fucking kidding me?â Emma demands. âRuby, donât be stupid. This isnât college anymore.â
âOh, like we ever did this in college,â Ruby scoffs with that devious twinkle in her eye. âBesides, college shenanigans are a state of mind. And Iâm not giving that up. Now câmon, no weaseling out of this.â
âIt is the rules,â Mulan points out, appearing to slip her arm around Rubyâs waist and drop an affectionate - if slightly tipsy - kiss on her shoulder.
âYeah, you hear that? Smart half says itâs the rules. So go ahead and pucker up and kiss him. And then go make out for a while and maybe bone each other so I can win the pool.â
Killian blushes a little bit at the phrasing - something thatâs surprisingly cute on him, knowing how often he usually tosses around the innuendoes and exactly how dirty a mouth he has when theyâre alone. Before Emma knows what heâs doing, he leans in to press a gentle kiss to her cheek, and then another, smacking one for good measure. âWho are we to deny the great, determined Ruby Lucas?â he proclaims grandly. âOne kiss: delivered.â
Rubyâs face gets a bit mutinous; itâs the only word for that particular storm cloud, really. âNo it isnât! Thatâs cheating!â
âEh. Technically, it was a kiss.â God bless Mulan for being the only one willing to go against Ruby when sheâs got a plan; perks of being the girlfriend, Emma supposes.Â
âAnd more importantly, Rubes, thatâs all youâre going to get from us.â And thatâs Emmaâs last word on the subject.
(âHappy Christmas, darling,â Killian whispers into her neck later once theyâre back at her place, dangling his own sprig of mistletoe over their heads. âHow about it? Câmon, give us a kiss.â
Emma is more than happy to comply.)
âââ
Emma wouldnât say itâs common for her to get calls from the school librarian, Belle, but itâs not unusual either. So when Belle calls her up in mid-December, shortly before Christmas break, Emma doesnât think twice about it.
âThe new Scholastic catalogs are here,â Belle informs her. âI havenât started sending them to classrooms yet, but if you want to take a look nowâŠâ
âIâll be right there.â Yes, the catalogs are full of books for middle school students, but Emma still loves those things. Theyâre chock-full of nostalgia.
âI havenât even taken them out of the box yet,â Belle explains when Emma meets her at the check-out desk. âTheyâre all still in the back room. Here, Iâll let you in.â
That should have been Emmaâs clue here. Why would a box of new catalogs, just arrived in the mail, already be shoved into the storage closet? But Emmaâs too excited about the prospect of those newsprint magazines to think about it. By the time Emma realizes thereâs nothing in this little closet but printer paper and old yearbooks⊠Belleâs already closed and locked the door, trapping Emma inside.Â
So itâs yet another set up, most likely. Itâs a good thing sheâs not claustrophobic, at least.
Sure enough, not five minutes later, Emma can hear Killianâs voice outside the door.Â
âHow many boxes did you say it was, Belle? Iâm happy to help haul, but Iâm just wondering if we should get a hand cart to assist.â
âOh no, Iâm sure itâll be fine,â Belleâs voice responds. âJust a few trips for each of us. Right in hereâŠâ
And suddenly, Killianâs in the cramped little closet too, and the door is shut and latched behind them. Gee, what a surprise.
âFancy meeting you here,â Emma comments dryly. Somehow, probably on some kind of ridiculous romantic instinct, Killianâs hands have already found their way to her hips. Itâs nice, really, ignoring the circumstances.
His face is adorably confused, looking around the room and back to the door and then to Emmaâs own face and all over again. âDid she just lock us in here?â
âYeah, keep up, Jones,â Emma teases. âI assume another stupid set-up effort.â
That makes the confusion disperse alright, a smirk full of promise creeping across his face instead. âIf thatâs the case⊠weâll just have to make the most of it.â
âOh no you donât,â she warns. âThereâs a camera in here.â
âSo? Itâs not like sheâs watching the monitors.â
âSo, Belle recently started dating Will Scarlet in IT. You want to take the chance she locked us in here, and forgot to have her boyfriend monitor us?â
âFuck,â Killian swears, dropping his head back in dramatic emphasis. âTheyâre really going overboard, arenât they?â
âIâll make it up to you later. I promise.â
Thirty minutes later, when Emma and Killian have done nothing but talk and try to find some little extra space in the crowded closet, Belle finally lets them out, just in time for the end of Killianâs free period.
âIâm sure you have no idea how that happened,â he comments, sarcasm dripping from every word.
âItâs just the weirdest thing,â Belle agrees.
Well, thatâs one way of putting it.
(Emma makes it up to him, several times over, at her place that night, with a take-out pizza to boot.)
âââ
After what feels like an eternity, itâs finally here: New Yearâs Eve. As long as they make it to midnight and the new year proper without anyone finding out, this whole ridiculous farce is over, and they can be the couple theyâve technically already been since October. Emma and Killian, Killian and Emma - but more than they had been before.Â
Theyâd spent Christmas together - not that that was anything unusual. With everyone else going to visit family, the two of them often spend the day together, eating take-out Chinese and watching holiday movies. Killianâs got a brother back in England that he makes sure to call, and some years Liam will fly over, but Killian usually saves his visits for summer vacation, when he can stay in whatever little English hamlet his brother calls home for weeks at a time. Thereâs always something nice about spending the holidays together, just the two of them, but it was extra special this year. Who knew Emma was the kind of girl who wanted to trade kisses under the Christmas tree between swapping gifts?
(Killian, apparently - but then again, heâs always claimed to know her better than she knows herself.)
âJust a few more hours,â he murmurs against her neck, twining his arms about her waist from behind as Emma carefully brushes on mascara. âFew more hours, and then itâs all in the open.â
âThank god for that, too. After all the PDA weâve gotten from certain people all these years, Iâm looking forward to rubbing it in their faces a bit.â
They carpool to Mary Margaret and Davidâs, just like they do every year. Itâs routine, really; Emma always crashes at Killianâs after the annual New Yearâs Eve party so that someone is there to help her with the hangover in the morning. Killian makes better hashbrowns than anyone she knows - even Granny - and they always manage to pull her out of the worst of her misery. Heâs good about taking care of her, too, with water and Advil and making sure to shut all the shades as tightly as possible. They even share a bed a lot of years; itâs just that tonight, Emma knows there will be a lot fewer clothes involved.
They drink. They eat. They mingle. Sometimes, theyâre together, carefully not touching, and sometimes they drift apart. Thatâs how this party usually works, after all - and Emma is nothing if not committed to seeing this entire thing through, pretending nothing is different this year, that she and Killian definitely arenât together. Nothing to see here, folks.
God, sheâs so fucking lucky he didnât cut and run once it became obvious just how much of a competitive lunatic Emma is.
Finally, though, itâs the moment - less than a minute left. Killian is already waiting for her by the patio doors, just like he promised. Emma is only too happy to wind her way over there, grinning when she finally finds herself in front of her boyfriend - about to be secret no longer. Behind them, the assembled drunken crowd loudly counts down the last seconds of the year. They keep their hands determinedly to themselves - just as agreed, so no one can try and claim anything happened before the strike of the new year - but Killian still looks at her with that twinkle in his eyes and wiggling eyebrows. Itâs anticipation, and excitement, and a good bit of joy - knowing that soon, this will all be out in the open. No more keeping their hands to themselves.Â
âYou ready for this, love?â he says just loud enough for her to hear as the clock hits ten seconds.Â
âHell yeah,â she grins back - because she is. She so is. This has been a long time coming - years in the making, really - and you know what? The whole secrecy may have helped her wrap her head around the whole thing, as well as win her the pot, but sheâs ready to take it public. Maybe rub it in everyoneâs faces just how happy she is and how she did this on her own schedule. Why the hell not?
Cheers erupt all around them, and Emmaâs grin stretches to something that almost hurts her face. Killian looks much the same. âHappy New Year, love,â he says, finally pulling her towards him by the hips. âI think itâll be our best one yet.â
Fireworks are going on outside, lighting up the snow on the ground, but Emma canât be bothered to pay attention - not when Killian attacks her lips with purpose, grinning happily into the kiss before she insistently deepens it, slipping her tongue into his mouth to play. Itâs just another in a series of kisses, they know - but itâs more than that. Itâs a display, in the best way, declaring them them.
Emma and Killian. Killian and Emma. A pair, a unit, a couple.Â
âHA!â shrieks someone across the room as their make-out finally gains attention. Emma thinks it might be Ruby - though, at this point, it might be Mary Margaret. Maybe both. Itâs definitely Ruby who materializes just as Emma and Killian finally break apart with a laugh. âItâs about fucking time!â
âYeah,â Emma agrees - something that seems to short-circuit Rubyâs brain for a moment, if that look on her face is anything to go by. âIt really was. And you know what else?â
Ruby shakes her head mutely, that twist of her eyebrows demonstrating that sheâs still trying to get her bearings about what the fuck is happening here.
âItâs the new year. That pot is mine.â
âThatâs my girl,â Killian whispers in her ear.
Best. New Yearâs. Ever.
âââ
On January 1st of the new year, Emma and Killian - Killian and Emma - they, them, a pair, a unit, a couple take their six hundred dollars in winnings and treat themselves to a goddamn massive lunch at Grannyâs. Together. In public. Because they deserve it.Â
Grilled cheese has never tasted so good to Emma - especially the crumbs off the corners of Killianâs lips.Â














