Yes, Christmas is over but do I look like I care? VIVA NAVIDAD! Anyway, this was an idea I came up with when I was working on my CS SS gift but put it aside until now. A little fluff, a little unintentional angst, a smidge of speculation, and a whole lot of flannel.

The characters belong to Kitsis and Horowitz but I'll be here to bring them out to play.

Fifteen. There were fifteen of them.

Emma had thought she had miscounted, twice, but when Killian had left to refill their mugs she had quickly but carefully recounted again. Henry had been watching her, she had seen his goofy grin from behind his new comic book, but it hadn't stopped her. She couldn't understand why Killian had gotten her fifteen pairs of flannel pajamas for Christmas.

Sitting among the discarded wrapping paper, ribbons, and boxes Emma wondered what the hell Killian been using for his research when he decided to learn what Christmas was all about. Not that she'd had the best or most traditional Christmases in the past but she was pretty sure that flannel pajamas weren't part of the deal. For the most part everything he'd done in preparation for the holiday kept with what she recognized from her own outsider observations of what was expected. He had gone a bit overboard with the mistletoe but she absolutely wasn't going to complain about that.

"Uh, Henry, do you know why Killian thought I needed all these pajama sets? I mean, is winter even long enough for me to wear them all?" Emma looked around her skeptically, eyeing the cozy fallout zone around her.

"You never know when Elsa might come back, or if Hades might decide to release that ice titan," Henry shrugged, quickly ducking back behind his comic and avoiding her first question.

"The doorway to Arendelle might still be there but Elsa's busy enough with her own land to drop by and visit ours and we made a deal with Hades, one he's just as eager not to break," Emma felt her magic pulse hotly under her skin but quickly controlled it, channeling it to clear up the trash around her.

"Sweet, I thought you'd rope me into cleanup duty," Henry said, triumphant.

"Nice try, kid, you still have to do the dishes from breakfast and haul all your new goodies to your room before everyone gets here. Hey! Why don't you start on that now?" She chirped enthusiastically, reveling in the normalcy of the request and Henry's eye roll of an answer.

She watched quietly as he hauled himself off the couch and headed towards the kitchen. It had been almost a year since they had dragged themselves bloody and nearly broken, in mind and body, from the Underworld. They had been successful in bringing Killian back but at a high cost. Their little group had escaped death so many times that Hades had only let them go on very specific terms. In return for not pursuing them and allowing Killian to return they had agreed, all of them, that if any one of them died there would be no loophole to bring them back. No shared hearts, no true love's kiss, no potion or spell or vault, it would just be the end. It was a dark cloud that had been hanging over the happiness that had followed their return.

"And what has you in such a blue study, love?" Killian's voice broke through her decidedly depressing thoughts.

"The deal," she answered with a halfhearted shrug, accepting the mug of hot chocolate he was holding out to her.

"Ah," Killian lowered himself to sit beside her, pausing only to move a few sets of pajamas out of his way. "Not quite cheerful thoughts on this joyous holiday."

"I know," Emma sighed and leaned into him, carefully placing her mug on the coffee table. His arm wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her close. "I swear I'm not trying to bring the mood down but Henry mentioned Hades and he was so casual about it. Like we don't have this huge thing just waiting in the shadows to make its move."

Killian hummed low in his throat, rubbing his hook absently over the place where Excalibur had left its mark on his chest. Emma dropped her head onto his shoulder. They stayed silent, listening to the sounds of water running and dishes clinking together coming from the kitchen.

"Tell me, Swan, before all of this," Killian waved his hook lazily in the air. "Before witches and wizards, magic, Storybrooke, before being the Savior what were your thoughts on death?"

"Geeze, Killian, I thought I was being depressing enough," Emma groaned, sitting up and facing him. "Christmas is supposed to be merry and bright. At least according to that song."

"I promise you it will be but humor me? How did you deal with death before Henry found you?" Killian asked gently.

Emma opened her mouth to answer and then closed it almost immediately as she really thought about the question. Killian pulled her hand into his and gave her an encouraging nod.

"I don't know…" she said slowly. "I didn't really think about it I guess. There wasn't anyone I cared about before so it wasn't anything that affected me directly. It was just something that happened to everyone, in the end."

"Aye, as it should be. Even in the Enchanted Forest only great sorcerers or horrible evils outwitted death, but only for a time. I learned this the hard way when Liam..." Killian swallowed hard before continuing. "When Liam made that ill fated decision with the Devil's Snare. Death is nothing to fear, love, just something that comes for us all eventually. It only seems so frightening when there are those we care about that will fall before its sword. We have only been afforded the same courtesy extended to every being in this and every other realm."

"I'm just being selfish I guess," Emma mumbled, looking down at their hands. "Which was what got us in this situation in the first place."

"Emma," she looked up at his use of her name. He was looking at her with a mixture of exasperation and adoration. "Love, I'm only going to say this once more and then we'll talk of it no further. Yes it was a trifle selfish of you to go to such lengths to save me but I cannot fault you when I would have done the same and more. You have been forgiven by your family, this town, and most of all by me. We're here, together, now and we are going to make the most of it and no longer dwell on what was or what will come. It's Christmas and merriment we shall have!"

Killian darted forward and placed a quick kiss on her lips. She couldn't help but smile, watching his eyes crinkle from his answering grin.

"That's more like it Swan. Now, would you like a hand carrying your loot upstairs or will your magic assist you in the task?"

Emma glanced around, suddenly re-aware of the sea of flannel surrounding her. She picked up a light blue pair covered in pink elephants and held it up in front of him.

"I think the better question is why you got me so many? Last I checked the pajamas I already have are perfectly fine."

"Do you not like them? I admit I may have been a bit extreme in my purchases but the ease of 'one click' ordering was something of a marvel. I was assured that they could be returned if they're not up to your standard or if the coloring offends you," Killian rambled, hand scratching almost violently behind his ear.

"No, hey, no it's nothing like that. I love them all but I won't deny that you went a bit overboard," Emma reached up and pulled his hand to her lap, squeezing it gently. "So what's the deal? Did Henry put you up to this?"

"Actually, er, no," Killian ducked his head, the tips of his ears turning red. "It was something I had talked to your father about."

"David?" Emma said surprised. "Why would he tell you to get me pajamas? And why so many?"

"He said nothing about the quantity but I had approached him about a rather, er, intimate subject. I would have gone to Robin but he knows about as much about this realm as I do and Henry was not an option."

"Killian, what are you talking about?"

"I sought out your father to ask why you no longer wear the nightgowns you had when we first settled in this house together," he answered hesitantly. Seeing her open her mouth to protest he hurried on. "I assure you I would not have gone to him, to spare both him and myself the humiliation but there was no other man I knew who was acquainted with the customs of this realm."

"So, what did he say?" Emma asked, genuinely curious.

"He told me that a similar thing had occurred with your mother," the red from the tips of his ears had spread down his neck and across his cheeks as his gaze darted around the room. "Without going into much detail he relayed that Mary Margaret had changed her sleepwear as well once they had settled into their life together here in Storybrooke. He mused that once she had become settled, sure in their relationship, finally happy together that she had dispensed with the clothes meant to tempt him and wore what made her comfortable instead."

Emma looked down at what she was wearing, the pajamas she hadn't bothered to change out of when they had descended from their bedroom to open presents. She was in old black yoga pants, the ones with holes in the knees and fraying cuffs that were hidden beneath the thick woolen socks she'd borrowed from Killian's drawer, and a sweatshirt she'd swiped from David when she'd lived at the loft and never given back. Thinking back on it she'd gone back to wearing her pre-Killian sleepwear, none of the silky, lacy things they both got plenty enjoyment out of, when Killian had moved the last of his things to the house from the Jolly Roger, towards the end of the summer.

"You never said anything," she let go of his hand to grab another pair, purple with clouds and rainbows, her fingers tracing the design. "Why did you get me all of these?"

"I want to ensure that you will always be content and happy with where your life is, love. If your night clothes are a reflection of that then I wanted you to be prepared. We can still return a number of them if you so desire," he said, pulling his hands from hers and reaching for a pink pair with tiny hearts all over them.

"No!" She nearly shouted, grabbing the soft pink fabric and hugging it to her chest with the purple and blue pair too. "I mean, I've already unwrapped them all and you must have spent a lot of time picking them out. I'll just…"

With a wave of her hand they vanished. She had only sent them to their bed, wanting to refold and put each of them away carefully, reverently. Killian raised his eyebrow at her and she rolled her eyes back.

"I'll take that as an indication that you did, indeed, enjoy my gifts to you?"

"Yes, even more now that I know what they mean," she smiled gently, picking herself up off the floor. "Come on, everyone will be here soon and I have one more gift for you."

"Do you, Swan?" Killian asked as he also stood up.

"Hmmm, although we'll have to be quick. Henry's almost done with the dishes and he'll want to shower next," Emma grabbed his hand and led him toward the stairs.

"I believe this is a gift you've given me many a time, love," he said with a wink.

"Well, if you don't feel like receiving it…"

Emma didn't get the chance to finish her empty threat. Killian spun her around quickly and tossed her over his shoulder, taking the steps two at a time, while she laughed the entire way. Henry ended up having to wait for the hot water to replenish and Killian had to remind Emma why she couldn't wear pajamas to their family dinner. It was by far the best Christmas she'd ever had.