Part 2 of this prompt - you're the asshole of our group and we don't get along, but then i find out you make soup for the local shelter. I wanted to tell (9k words) more of this story and I figured you guys won't mind so I altered the timeline a bit - Emma's first visit to the shelter was 3 weeks before Christmas.
If you like my seasonal writings, check out the rest of 'Tis The Season and my brand new book of short stories (ch 26) ;)
She feels cold hands on her shoulders and in the next moment Ruby Lucas pretends to jump on her back.
"What are we drinking?"
"You missed the first round so now you get to buy the second."
Ruby pouts and quickly loses interest in her when she spots Belle's half-drunk Cosmopolitan on the table. Emma looks around, even though she knows logically there's no reason for Jones to come in with Ruby.
"You ok, Emma?"
She startles a little and looks up into Graham's warm and curious eyes.
"Oh, yeah, fine. Just wondering if that's all of us tonight. Jones not coming?"
"Don't think so. He said he's on shift at Pan's."
"So why don't we go there?"
Graham blinks at her in surprise and Emma swirls the dregs of beer in her glass, trying to appear like she doesn't care one way or another.
Thing is – she does care. She cares because this is their first outing since she changed out of her wet jeans in Killian Jones's bathroom and came out to find him handing her an extra scarf and telling her that her Uber was waiting – a set to his shoulders and an arrangement of his facial muscles that didn't invite anything but another 'thank you' (Emma has never stood on ceremony though so she squeezed his arm in reiteration of her verbal gratitude – that seemed to be pushing it a bit).
She cares because she judged Jones for not jumping at every chance to spend time with her circle of friends, never considering that he had other obligations that he was juggling or even other friends that he might want to spend time with like Anna and Elsa.
She cares because she thought he couldn't be bothered to join in all their traditions, never considering that he might not be able to or feel comfortable doing so.
She cares because she is not sure whether he is not here because he really has to work or because he is avoiding her.
"Because you don't like Pan's? And Ruby says it's a hole in the wall?"
She tries not to cringe.
"Right. But—"
She cares because she's been acting like Killian turned up his nose at her offer of friendship, when she never properly extended such an offer.
"I mean, if Jones can't make it to the party, we bring the party to him?"
"Well, I… I mean, I don't mind. You can ask David, just to be sure he's actually there."
It's not like her nonchalant attitude was working so far so Emma just squares her shoulders and heads over to where David is showing MM whatever ridiculous meme he's currently obsessed with. Honestly, she loves David to bits but she is so happy he has her friend to share these kinda things with.
"David?"
"Oh, Emma, have I shown you—"
"I have Internet. I'm 90% sure I've seen it. Hey, is Jones coming tonight?"
"Mm, no, he's working at Pan's. Why?"
"Well… I mean, Graham and I were talking and like… we're here all the time and I'm a bit – eh, I mean, maybe a change of scene? And since Jones is over at Pan's, I'm sure we'll find a table."
"You want to go to Pan's?"
"I mean, if you guys want to?"
"Ruby might not be too happy but it's not a bad idea. Killian said he'll be busy basically the whole week before Christmas so…"
Yes, but will he be busy working or busy working in order to avoid Emma Swan is the question she wants to ask. She bites her lip and nods instead.
"Great, let's do that. Leave Ruby to me."
Ruby only needs to be told that Killian drew one of her fortunes and never told them what it was and she is out of the bar hailing the next cab.
/
Emma has had a little less than three days to rearrange her view of Killian Jones. It's been… well, it's been kind of baffling to be quite honest. She has slowly but surely realized exactly how little she knows about Killian.
When David first introduced them to Jones he put on the charm real thick – thick enough to amuse Ruby and make Belle flush, thick enough to make MM shake her head and even make David glower a little at his back. Thick enough to make Emma's lip curl.
Emma did not like players, she liked men who thought they were God's gift to women even less. Killian Jones seemed to be both.
And, if she is being objective – the way she is trying really hard to be right now – time showed that he was neither. But Emma was too far gone by then. Maybe, on some level that she is still uncomfortable uncovering – Emma didn't want to have an extremely charming and attractive man as one of her closest friends.
Lie. Both David and Graham are charming and attractive men that she has no problem being friends with. What Emma didn't want was an extremely charming and attractive man – who she both undressed mentally on a regular basis and wanted to cuddle with during movie nights and who looked like one of the biggest flirts she had ever met – as one of her closest friends.
"Two beers and one Christmas fortune, please!"
Jones whirls around at Ruby's voice and Emma tries to stifle the laugh that bubbles out at the look on his face. In his defense, Ruby's wolfish grin is more than a little disconcerting. He also recovers impressively quickly, leaning on the side of the bar, his lips stretched into a smirk that can give Ruby a run for her money.
"Are you trying to get me in trouble, Lucas?"
"Always."
Killian hums and nods as if that's exactly the answer he was expecting and lifts a finger in a sign that they should wait a second.
Killian doesn't actually tend bar at Pan's, something about a shaker requiring two hands to handle – which Emma thinks is bullshit because even when she was glowering at his theatrics she could never deny that Jones made the best Old Fashioned and Hot Buttered Rum when given free reign of Ruby's home bar. As far as she knows, he just stocks up Pan's now, even though he is the one who came up with most of their signature cocktails.
He makes his way toward them before long, three beer necks fitting just fine in his large hand. He doesn't avoid looking at her but it's not like he goes out of his way to engage in conversation. They just head for the corner table that the others have managed to secure.
"Bloody hell, you brought the whole lot? You are trying to get me in trouble."
He grumbles about it for another few minutes but when David takes out his phone and asks did you see this?!, his eyeroll and smile are nothing but exasperation and fondness.
/
Look here, Emma has gone weeks without seeing Killian Jones many times since she met him. Once or twice it might have ever been a whole month.
But now that her whole "he's a total asshole" excuse for not spending much time around him has been shot to hell, it nags at her to no end when they make plans in the group chat and he leaves them on Seen. or just fires off a monosyllabic "work".
It nags at her in a much different way than it did before.
Also, she still has his sweatpants and his scarf. Also, she is still not sure if he is not avoiding her.
Which should explain why she has found herself at the docks in December. Emma loves the ocean but she is usually all too content when they take some time apart in December. The ocean is a frigid bitch in December. The unpleasant thought that this might very well be what Killian Jones thinks about her rises unbidden in her mind. She shakes it away.
Now for the hard part. She knows Killian works for some shipping company. She is not sure which one exactly. And she probably looks as lost as she is because before long she hears footsteps approaching her and—
"May I help y— Oh, Emma!"
"Elsa!"
"Hey."
They both reach for a hug before stopping at the last second and sharing a questioning look, the consensus seems to be "well, why not". The hug is short but Emma likes Elsa all the more for it.
"What are you doing here?"
"Oh, umm, I—"
"Are you looking for Killian?"
"Yes!" she feels her cheeks tingle. "I mean, yeah, I— do you guys work together?"
"It's my aunt's business. I'm… an ambassador of sorts, I suppose. I don't do actual work."
"I'm sure you do."
Elsa smiles at her before her eyes narrow slightly. Emma tries very hard not to fidget under her piercing blue gaze. It's not the vibrant and playful blue of Jones' eyes, it's rather arresting and just a little intimidating.
"Want me to get him for you?"
"What?"
"Killian? I'll let you in but the place is a bit of a maze and you'll only get lost again."
"Oh, I don't want to—"
"He should be breaking for lunch in a few minutes. I'll just tell him to come and find you here."
"Umm, sure. Yeah. Yeah, thank you, that sounds great."
/
"Cold day for a stroll by the sea."
Emma looks up from her phone to find Killian Jones making his way toward her. His nose and cheeks are extremely pink and his lips are a bit chapped, his hand and prosthetic thrust deeply into the pockets of his heavy jacket.
He sits on the bench beside her and Emma shuffles her feet a bit to make sure they haven't frozen to the ground.
"Yeah, umm," she is here for a purpose – the purpose is not supposed to be staring at Killian's profile, his sharp jawline and the scruff that's slightly longer than usual and more than a little ginger-y in the winter sun. "I'll be monitoring this guy a few blocks from here and thought I'd stop by to return your stuff."
She takes the bag out of her backpack.
"Ah, thank you, lass. You needn't have bothered."
The wind cuts off her eyeroll and she idly wonders if freezing winds are to accompany all her moments with Killian Jones from now on. Then her eyes focus on the buttons of his work shirt. Must be a pretty cold winter, if Jones has left only the first two buttons of his shirt undone. She opens the bag in her hands, takes out his scarf and leans over to wrap it around his exposed neck before she can overthink her actions.
"This shade of blue just doesn't go that well with my eyes."
His own widen a little – whether at her comment or her proximity Emma is not sure but she enjoys it nonetheless.
"I'd disagree with you but history has taught me to do that as rarely as possible."
She probably shouldn't laugh, he is probably not joking. She does anyway.
"Swan, we're… we're good."
She looks up and frowns at him. It's a weird thing to say. She wouldn't say they've ever been "good", she has always been just a bit too snappy and wary of him, even if not downright hostile.
The left corner of his mouth ticks up knowingly and oh. She is pretty sure he is telling her that he is not avoiding her on purpose. She is not sure how he knows she was worried about that.
"There's just tons of work around the holidays. And I'm trying to— No matter. Half the world is sending things to the other half of the world and someone has to make sure it all gets there."
She nods.
"You're a regular Santa."
He laughs – it's a loud and deep and really beautiful sound.
"One of the helpers at most."
"Is this how you know Elsa?"
His hand comes out of his pocket to rub at the back of his neck and the wind is picking up and he's not wearing a hat either and really.
"Other way around actually. We met at the kitchen a few times and then she offered me a job. Leroy works here as well."
"Really?"
"Mm, Elsa likes hiring people she has seen in action."
"Should I be expecting a call sometime soon?"
"I'm sure she could tell you're too good for this place."
She frowns and opens her mouth to—
"Have you eaten? I— there's this diner nearby."
"Oh, shit, I'm totally wasting your lunch break."
Killian chuckles and gets up. Emma follows suit, glad to find that her feet have not actually frozen to the ground.
"I'll hardly call it "wasting", love. I got a scarf out of it."
"Right, you got your own scarf out of it. Let's squeeze in a lunch date at least."
Killian's step falters a little and Emma's eyes squeeze shut.
Shit. She didn't mean that like—
"Swan, I-I'd prefer if you didn't make me your "good deed" of the season."
Her what now? Oh.
She is really not ready to explain to Killian Jones that she is doing herself a favour here. That she is finally allowing herself to actually be friends with him. And, yeah, alright maybe she also wants him to know that she doesn't think he is an arrogant ass anymore. And maybe she also…
Yeah, she is not ready to explain any of that. But joking about it is not that hard.
"Jones, are you implying that you make my heart sweet?"
He rolls his eyes at her but he doesn't fight her any further.
Progress.
/
Emma has been preparing for this moment ever since the idea came into her head. She has never been a manipulative sort of person but she thinks this might require a little finesse to pull off as she looks at MM across her kitchen island.
"OK, I think it's high time we drew the Secret Santa."
"Less than 10 days till Christmas – the horror!"
Mary Margaret fixes her with an unimpressed look.
"Last year it took your present almost two weeks to get here."
Emma can hardly believe she is presented with such an opportunity. She pounces.
"So maybe we should change it up a bit this year?"
"How do you mean?"
"Eliminate the madness of online shopping or, Heaven forbid, a trip to the mall."
"So what? We don't do a Secret Santa?"
MM looks like Emma just removed her mask Scooby-Doo style and revealed herself as the Grinch.
"Of course not! We just make the present ourselves!"
Mask number two removed – she is apparently a genius, angel slash saviour now.
"Emma, this is brilliant!"
"Right?"
She is quite proud of herself for that one. For starters, it will save her the dreaded trip to the mall. It will give her an excuse to execute her idea. And, most importantly, she is pretty sure for the first time Killian might agree to take part in their Secret Santa.
Honestly, sometimes the budget MM sets for this thing makes her cringe.
"We can draw names tonight at my place. I'll make some gingerbread men."
"Mary Margaret—"
"Just some cookies, I promise! It's not gonna be a whole Christmas dinner or anything."
"Sure. Is everyone coming tonight?"
"Killian's not but he never joins the Secret—"
"He's coming."
"He is?"
"Mhm."
"How do you know?"
Her hand freezes half way to sprinkling the cinnamon over her second cup of cocoa.
"Umm, he messaged me."
"He messaged you?"
"Jeez, you make it sound like no one would ever want to do that."
"No, of course not, you and Killian have never been all that close is all."
"It's not that big of a deal. He was "valiantly" entertaining me on my stakeout last night," she rolls her eyes and MM gives her a look at the very non-Emma vocabulary. "So we were messaging anyway and I talked him into coming for a bit before he heads to Pan's."
"Well, that's great. Think you can talk him into the Secret Santa as well?"
Emma eyes widen a little but she quickly schools her expression. No, as a matter of fact she was hoping they could pass the whole handmade gifts idea as Mary Margaret's.
"Nope. I'll leave that to you and your deep, soulful eyes."
MM gives her an unimpressed look.
/
After 10 minutes of cajoling, which Emma feels comfortable joining in once basically everybody else has, Killian Jones agrees to take part in their Secret Santa gift exchange for the first time. She is glad to note that he doesn't seem too put out about it.
She is not so glad to note the name on her piece of paper.
Belle
Dammit. Emma wants to bang her head against something. Somehow, in carrying out her great plan, she completely forgot about one key element – the randomness of the Secret Santa.
/
The next time she goes to help at the shelter Elsa runs, Emma is there an hour before they open, helping Killian chop carrots and explaining to him why her gingerbread people are superior to MM's. (It's the double dose of cinnamon and she swears him to secrecy even though it's written all over his face that they all know about it.)
The next time she goes to help at the shelter Elsa runs, Emma is there an hour after they close, eating cheese sandwiches and drinking Kristoff's beer. (She says she doesn't want one but she takes a pull from Killian's bottle so many times that in the end she has to crash at his place instead of driving home and there are certainly advantages to having a small crappy couch – the fact that you have no choice but to share the bed for one.)
/
Killian begs out of the cookie competition like he does every year. But this year Emma has a plan.
Since you already know my secret recipe, do you wanna come help me make better cookies than MM?
Swan… I didn't know how to break this to you but… everybody knows your secret recipe.
That doesn't answer my question.
I'm sure you can manage just fine.
"just fine" hasn't been enough to beat MM's gingerbreads and Graham's Scottish shortbread in the last four years. I'm tired of ending in third place, Jones!
Alright. But I haven't touched a ball of dough in over five years – you've been warned.
If she does a little dance in the middle of her kitchen – well, that's for Emma and Emma alone to know.
/
Emma's place is not spacious by any stretch of the imagination but she has a counter almost big enough for them to spread the dough on and her oven bakes at the temperature she sets it at.
"Good, I think I almost burned the place down last time I tried to make some."
Emma almost drops the spatula she is washing.
"You made cookies?"
Killian's eyes go a little wider and she can see the faintest spot of colour above his scruffy cheeks. His hand instinctively goes to rub at the back of his neck.
"Aye. That first year, Mary Margaret looked crestfallen when I told her I won't do it. So…" he coughs a bit and Emma tries not to lose her shit over how adorable a flustered Killian Jones is. "I hadn't really baked since – you know."
He makes a little arch in the air with his prosthetic. Which is actually quite useful for handling really hot thing in Emma's opinion.
"I did surprisingly alright, I think. But that blasted oven is older than I am and burned them to a crisp so…"
She tries hard not to think about Killian putting so much effort into stupid cookies, tries very very hard not to think about how disappointed he must have been in the end. Instead she pokes one of the gingerbread monsters they made and, upon finding it cool enough, bites off its head and offers the rest of it to Killian. He leans over the counter, his teeth clamping on the baked dough just a millimeter from where her fingers are holding it and chews thoroughly.
Emma has seen Killian Jones flirt and she is 100% sure that this was a completely innocent action that currently has her more flushed than the open oven.
"Not bad."
Killian hums appreciatively and really, this is not going the way she planned at all.
"You should've paired up ages ago. Why do you think Ruby and Graham are always a baking team?"
"Ruby and Graham?"
Emma takes the biggest plate she possesses and puts it on the counter for the safe transfer of all the gingerbread passengers.
"God, you have so much to learn. MM and I always make gingerbreads. Belle tries something different every year and so does David. But you can totally tell when he had no clue what to make or completely forgot about it cuz he always falls back on peppermint."
Killian hums, his eyes on the cookies he is arranging in a way that Emma would've never bothered with. She stops for a moment, wondering if she is boring him with all the cookie talk but he looks up at her with genuine curiosity and nods for her to continue.
"And how do Graham and Ruby fit in?"
"Ruby can't bake to save her life."
"Isn't her grandmother a famous chef or something?"
"Yeah, they almost had a falling out over it but I think they're good now."
Killian shakes his head, caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief.
"Anyway, I'm pretty sure Ruby just sits around and drinks mulled wine while Graham works his shortbread magic. You are actually good at this!"
"I'd hate to fall out of favour in your kitchen, Swan, but… I might have a blasphemous question."
She narrows her eyes slightly but nods for him to continue.
"Why gingerbread men? I don't mean to doubt your superior and top-secret," she rolls her eyes at the sarcasm. "recipe, but if Mary Margaret's gingerbread wins every year – why not try something new?"
She shrugs and pretends to be very focused on scratching the dough that has stuck to the bottom of the baking pan.
"Swan?"
She can hear the defeat in her own sigh but her voice comes out strangely defensive.
"I don't know how to make anything else, ok? MM taught me how to make gingerbread men the first Christmas we spent together. Before David and Graham and everyone. So, I just… I dunno, put a stupid little twist on it and… yeah," she shrugs and resolutely doesn't look at Killian even thought she can see from the corner of her eye that he has moved to her side of the counter. "So, no wonder I've never won, I guess. Not that it matters, I just—"
"Swan?"
She has to look up, especially when his fingers under her chin help her along.
"Will you be very pissed off if I suggest we try something different this year?"
/
Their Buttered rum snickerdoodles steal the whole damn cookie show.
Emma is only a little ashamed of the squeal she let out. She is not ashamed of the way she threw her arms around Killian's neck. However, she is slightly uncomfortable with the suspicious way David is looking at her.
And when someone is looking at you suspiciously, the worst thing you can do is go into the kitchen to get another drink and give them the opportunity to corner you there.
"Congrats on your first winning cookie!"
She beams at David – she can't help it. They are damn good cookies. They only burned the very last tray when too much of the rum had been consumed for none-cookie purposes.
"Thanks!"
"And you made them with Killian."
"Yup," she means to keep it at that but David's probing look is just a bit too much. "Pairing up is allowed."
"I know."
"Well, why didn't you tell Killian?"
David frowns. Admittedly, her tone was probably a bit too accusatory. They're talking about cookies, for crying out loud.
"I didn't think of it, I guess. But I doubt he would've gone for it when he still thought he was third wheeling."
"What?"
"You know, at the very start when I introduced you all to Killian and we were all…"
"What?"
"Well, coupled up."
"What?"
This is honestly the most bizarre thing she has learnt recently. And she has learnt plenty.
"Me and Mary Margaret, Ruby and Belle, you and Graham."
"What?! Me and Graham were never a thing! We went out on like one date when we first met and that was it."
"Yeah, I know, but you've always had that whole "will they, won't they" thing going on."
"OK, first of all, you're not a teenager – don't use that phrase. Second of all, no, we have most definitely not. And, my God, did you tell Killian that?"
"See, that, right there," David actually points a finger at her, his eyes wide and curious and a little accusatory. "Since when do you care so much about what Killian thinks?"
"I care," she fires back defensively.
"Yes, I can tell. My question is when did that happen?"
"It…" Emma huffs and crosses her arms in front of her chest, giving David a look that is hopefully telling him exactly how much she appreciates this mini version of the Spanish Inquisition. "It may have come to my attention that Killian is not as much of an asshole as I thought."
"You thought my best friend was an asshole?"
"Not like— just, compared to the rest of the group."
David does not look placated.
"Which I don't anymore," she points out.
"So what? You're baking cookies now?"
Now it's David's arms that come in front of his chest and Emma blinks a few times as she takes in the protective posture and the flickers of suspicion still in his eyes.
"David… are you giving me the protective best friend speech?"
He seems rather exasperated by her disbelieving tone.
"You gave me one when I started dating Mary Margaret!"
"I didn't know you! You know me!"
"And you just said you used to think Killian is an asshole. Which, let me tell you, is the furthest thing from the—"
"Oh my god, you really are giving me the speech."
"Do I need to?"
Emma is about to quip something back but then she stops and remembers how she felt in his place. She stops and realizes that she is actually not at all upset that David is going around, ready to give a threatening speech to anyone who might look at Killian the wrong way. She stops and takes the couple of seconds she needs to think about it and be honest with him.
"No, you don't."
David's brows furrow – in confusion or disappointment – Emma doesn't give him time to decide.
"I'll never do something to hurt Killian."
/
Killian calls Elsa to warn her that he won't be at the shelter the weekend before Christmas and instead they go to the orphanage that Emma's been donating to for the last two years.
She goes into more details about the first 16 years of her life than she ever has before and Killian fills her in on his own forays into the cold darkness of homelessness post-Liam.
She tries very hard not to tear up over how happy the kids are over colourful gloves and jigsaw puzzles – she almost succeeds.
She tries very hard not to tear up over Killian reading Peter Pan to a group of four and five year olds – she fails spectacularly.
/
"But it's Christmas!"
"I know, that's why they're paying me double. And I've got the time off for the New Year's trip so you simply must forgive me, Swan."
She cradles her phone between her cheek and shoulder and shoves the hangers back in her wardrobe. So much for putting an effort.
"I'm not mad. I'm just… can't you come after?"
"Love, I don't mean to disparage David and Mary Margaret's lovely Christmas dinner but it usually starts winding down around 10."
She huffs – part amusement and part frustration. She even took out her high-heeled boots.
"I don't mean at MM's. You could… come by my place. Or I can come to yours after dinner."
Killian is quiet on the other side for so long that she checks if she didn't accidentally hang up on him.
"That's… we could do that. I'll probably be done around half past. I could be at yours around 11."
She feels the stretch in her cheeks.
"Great. Just enough time for me to get back."
/
She's back at her place by 10:34, having begged off a second serving of desert with the excuse of fitting into a New Year's dress that she doesn't have and another glass of wine with the excuse of having to drive home.
Killian messages her 10 minutes later, asking when she thinks she'll be home.
She opens the door with a glass of bourbon in her hand and his sigh is pure relief.
"Food?"
"Please. Leroy and his brother's idea of a Christmas meal was ham sandwiches."
"Mary Margaret sent me off with like 4 boxes so."
"Only?"
"4 each."
"Each?"
"Yeah, I put yours in the fridge as well."
"Why did she give you my boxes?"
She doesn't really notice the way he is looking at her, too busy piling peas and mashed potatoes on his plate.
"Well, I told her you can take them later when you—"
Oh.
She is rather proud of herself for not dropping the plate.
"Shit. Did you— Should I not have told them you were—"
"No, no. Swan," she can feel the chill of Killian's hand as he takes the plate from her and leaves it on the counter, his left arm wrapping around her waist and slowly turning her around. "I don't mind people knowing that I'm here."
"You don't?"
"Of course not. I just… I didn't think you'll tell them."
"Why?"
Killian waves his hand around, seemingly to encompass a number of reasons.
"You know they need the slightest provocation to start… especially Lucas. And then there's Graham—"
"Oh my god, I'm seriously gonna punch someone in the face. What's with the Graham thing? There's no Graham."
Amusement lifts up Killian's eyebrow and she huffs a little.
"I mean there's Graham. Our mutual friend Graham. Who we all love very much. In a very "I don't have inappropriate thoughts about you" way."
The eyebrow goes higher.
"Do you have inappropriate thoughts about me, Swan?"
Emma doesn't really appreciate playing the defense. So she grabs her bourbon and turns to go to the living room, stopping with her shoulder against Killian's and her mouth just under his ear.
"I don't really think of them as inappropriate, Jones."
/
"I should go."
Emma tries to blink her eyes and focus on the closing montage of Love Actually but it's really hard when she is so warm and so full. Killian shifts a little under her and then has the nerve to laugh at her displeased grumbling.
"Swan, I should go home and you should relocate to your bed."
"You should learn to fall asleep during movies is what you should do."
"Oh? So that I can wake up with a crick in my neck and complain about it all day?"
"One time that happened."
"That I know of."
She groans again and rises to a sitting position with the utmost reluctance. Her human pillow chuckles again and stands up, stretching his arms above his head.
"Are you seriously going to leave at this time? Do you have any clue how cold it is outside?"
"Aye, Swan, I work at a bar. I've walked home at 3 in the morning before."
She shudders at the very thought of the outside world at 3 am in December.
"Yes, but you can't just sleep there. You can sleep here."
He opens his mouth to protest but then something ripples across his face and it seems to soften impossibly. It might be the cold outside but Emma thinks – hopes – it has more to do with her rumpled, sleepy self and the expression on her face.
"Since you're feeling so hospitable."
He drops back on the couch with such force that she almost bounces off of it. That's part of the reason for the evil look she gives him. The other part is that now they're gonna have the sleeping on the couch argument, seeing as her couch is actually pretty decent to sleep on.
Maybe she can leave him on it for a bit, take him off his guard, it will give her time to tidy up her bedroom a bit. She is pretty sure there are still a few discarded outfits on the bed and there is wool everywh—
"Shoot!"
The way Killian jumps in surprise is unintended payback for earlier.
"I forgot your present!"
"My pres—"
She is already in her bedroom when he starts on about the Secret Santa and how they are supposed to exchange presents at Ruby's cabin on New Year's.
"I know. But—" she walks back into her living room to find a slightly confused Killian Jones, kneeling on her couch, his chin resting on the back of it so he is facing her.
No matter how flirty and annoying he can get, how she ever thought someone so adorable could be an honest to God asshole, Emma will never know.
"OK, so this is kinda silly and not good – I'm not being modest, it's not good," every warning seems to only confuse and amuse him more so she just rolls her eyes and powers on. "But I started it before we drew our names and then I didn't draw your name and it's not even like wrapped or anything—"
"Swan, did you make me a present?" the amusement at her babbling still lingers in the background but now he seems caught somewhere between very touched and a little embarrassed.
"Mhm," she nods, her hands still behind her back and Killian looks painfully earnest now.
"I'm sorry I don't have one for you, love. I… well, it kind of ruins the surprise, but I did draw your name so—"
"You did?"
Her excitement seems to alleviate his worries a bit.
"Aye. So I thought it wouldn't be bad form to give it to you before—"
"No, yeah, you're right. I can wait."
"Can you?" he teases her lightly.
"Do you want your gift or not?" she moves closer, his present remaining behind her back until her knees are brushing the back of the couch and his knuckles are brushing the front of her sweater. "It's really not good."
"Emma—"
She thrusts the clump of wool in his face. OK, it's a hat. But it's not really. She genuinely didn't think one could fuck up a hat. But she did. It's lopsided on the top and the rim is painfully uneven and the knitting in some parts is too tight and in others it's too loose and yeah.
Killian Jones must be a very smart man because it takes him only a few seconds to figure out what it is. Then he puts it on his head. Emma slaps her hands over her eyes.
"That bad?"
"It's ridiculous. Please, take it off."
"I shan't."
Before she can make a grab for the monstrosity on his head, he has leaped over the couch and headed for the mirror in the hallway. Emma stays where she is.
"It goes with my scarf!"
She rolls her eyes at his delighted exclamation and tries her best to not grin like an idiot.
"That was kinda the point!"
She turns around to find Killian right behind her. And then he is kissing her. Mind, not in the way she has been waiting for him to kiss her. He is kissing her all over her head and her temple and her cheeks and her ears. The ears are probably the point at which she loses it and dissolves into giggles in his arms.
She is honestly surprised that they make it past all the laughter, the calming down and the removal of Killian's scarf and hat before she kisses him the way she has been waiting for him to kiss her.
/
"Did anybody call Belle?" Emma whines from where she is leaning on her car.
"You know you're usually the one that's still in bed while we're all ready and waiting."
She rolls her eyes at Mary Margaret's motherly tone.
"And I could've still been in bed now, if some people didn't consider being on time a sacred duty or something."
Beside her Killian rolls his eyes without even looking up from his phone.
"You didn't have to come pick me up, Swan."
True but a) she still shudders at Killian's blasé attitude toward walking everywhere in negative temperatures and b) she would've never forgiven herself if she wasn't there to see him come out with his duffel bag swung over his shoulder, his scarf whipping in the wind and her ridiculous hat on top of his head.
Ruby's sputtering and laughter when they arrived might have wounded her pride a little but Killian casually flipping her off and the fact that he is still wearing the thing more than makes up for it.
"Look at this one!"
Killian shoves his phone in her face in excitement. He has this thing about taking pictures of the most interesting slash ridiculous boats he sees at the docks. There was a pink one last week. It was called My Lil Pony.
"What's that now?"
David leans over, looking at Killian's phone upside-down, and for a second all Emma sees is a moment in the future when David Nolan learns not to look at everything that Killian is showing her on his phone.
"Ugh, enough boats."
"OK, meme-man, pipe down," she fires back instinctively.
David sputters, MM half-laugh, half-gasps and Killian bites very hard on his bottom lip, the corners of his mouth twitching restlessly.
Ruby squeals. But that probably has more to do with Belle crossing the street across the parking lot where they've been waiting for her for the last 20 minutes.
/
"Okay, people, listen up! Granny has one rule and one rule only in her cabin – you mess it up, you clean it up," Ruby rolls her eyes and leaves no doubt in any of them that she has been on the receiving end of that phrase many times in her life.
They've been meaning to come to Ruby's grandmother's cabin for the holidays for years now but something always came up, someone was always busy, the stars never aligned. 2018 seems to be good for something after all.
"There is no microwave cuz Granny has a stick up her butt. The fireplace is functional but I ain't breaking any nails showing you how to light it. There is one master bedroom on this floor which I and Belle are claiming, thank you very much. And three more bedrooms upstairs. The one with the smallest bed has the best view – let the Hunger games begin."
With that Ruby pulls out the handle on her blood-red carry on and sashays away, a slightly flustered Belle hurrying after her and hissing something about "hospitality".
Emma would have to be blind not to notice the suspicious way David keeps looking between her and Killian but before he can open his mouth, Mary Margaret takes his arm and starts dragging him toward the stairs. Emma tries not to look too smug – she has her own BFF cards up her sleeve.
However, she is not prepared for the pensive look on Killian's face when she looks at him.
"So," the way he rubs at his neck does not do much for her sudden nerves either. "you want that lovely view or…"
She laughs a little but it comes off all kinds of awkward.
"Only if you really wanna bunk with Graham."
"Yeah?" he looks at her with mild surprise and really?
"Yeah."
Her hands climb slowly up the lapels of his coat, she takes her time unwinding his scarf and them uses it to pull his mouth down to hers.
Killian's lips are always – always being the four times she has kissed him so far – chapped but warm and Emma would be a shameless liar, if she said she didn't enjoy the scratch of his scruff and the softness of his hair beneath her fingertips.
"Mm, keep that up, Swan, and I might think you really wanna bunk with me."
She sticks her tongue at him and grabs her bag, purposefully climbing the stairs a few steps ahead of him.
"It's not very courteous deciding without Graham."
She stops at the top and turns around to make sure he is actually being serious. Once again, Emma is not sure how hard she was squinting to see this guy in an asshole light.
"If Graham had preferences, he should've driven over with the rest of us."
Killian gives her a look and she tries not to feel chastised.
"He had to go to the station, Swan. Keeping the population safe and all that."
Now it's her turn to give him a look.
"He is filling in some end-of-the-year paperwork that he forgot to do."
"That's really beside the point."
"Killian," she drops her bags on the ground with an unceremonious thud and moves closer to him. "1 – Graham is not going to mind having a bed to himself. 2 – trust me, hewon't enjoy sharing a bed with you nearly as much as I will."
The eyebrow wiggle almost distracts her from the way his eyes darken with interest and desire.
"And 3 – we're letting him have the best view!"
Killian's hand and prosthetic settle on her hips and he draws her closer agonizingly slow.
"All very good points, Swan. I'd very much like you to elaborate on the second one though."
"Mm, don't worry, I plan to be very very elaborate."
The rumble of his growl follows her all the way to their bedroom for the next three nights.
/
Graham is fine with the sleeping arrangements. He is terribly confused but he has the good sense to keep his confusion to himself. Ruby Lucas has no such good sense.
"Wait, wait, wait. Is this really a thing now?"
The only thing more amusing than MM's sigh of relief that she won't have to keep everything Emma's told her a secret and David's inability to decide if he wants to smile or scowl at her is probably the way Emma and Killian both look at each other before looking back at Ruby and nodding dumbly.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Ruby growls as Belle's hand appears in front of her – palm up and fingers wiggling expectedly. "Yeah, yeah, I'll pay you later."
"Whoa. You bet on this?" Emma looks wildly around the room but everybody else looks just as confused as she feels.
"It was just between me and this minx."
Belle, swept away by her victory over her girlfriend, seems to only now realize that they're all still there. Her cheeks turn as red as the streaks in Ruby's hair.
"When David first brought Jones around, she made a comment that you would look good together. I didn't see it." Ruby shrugs unapologetically and Emma gives her an unimpressed look.
Then she eyes the timid librarian with surprise and newfound respect. She never would've pegged Belle as one of those people that speculate about other people's relationships. But then again maybe she isn't. Maybe she just had a hunch that one time. It's not like she bet on the wrong horse after all.
"But then you two did not hit it off," Ruby continues and Belle once again surprises Emma by cutting her off with a roll of her eyes.
"And Ruby was just a little too smug about it so I proposed a little bet."
"It was quite romantic actually."
"You'll forgive me, ladies, but I fail to see the romance."
"Not for you, smartass," Ruby answers Killian's raised eyebrow with one of her own. "I asked for a deadline and she said until one of you gets married."
Emma sputters a little.
"So I asked what if neither of you gets married and she said if you haven't gotten together by the time we're 80, I win."
Ruby looks all kinds of smitten and Emma just looks at Killian who thankfully voices her own thoughts.
"The romance still alludes me."
Ruby rolls her eyes and rises from her seat to top up everybody's glasses.
"It was implied that we'll still be together when we are 80."
Mary Margaret's "aww" is no less adorable for its predictability.
"See – there," Ruby gestures at MM with the bottle of wine in her hand. "All I wanted."
/
"Can I take the side next to the window?"
"'Course, luv."
If she was a betting woman, she'd bet that Killian's mouth is full of toothpaste right now.
"Yeah? You don't have a preference?"
She peaks into the small bathroom. It's not really bad manners, if he left the door ajar, right? It's not like Killian is indecent – far from it, he has a long-sleeved Henley on and the sweatpants that he lent her a few weeks ago. His mouth is indeed full of toothpaste and his hair is all flat on one side where he fell asleep on her thigh in front of the fireplace downstairs.
Emma is still not sure if it was the cave woman inside her that got all hot and bothered over Killian lighting a fire or if it was just… well, her watching Killian do whatever.
Graham was tired from the lone drive over and went to bed first and David had been snoring in the loveseat beside MM for an hour by that point and Emma thoroughly enjoyed some impromptu girl time when Killian fell asleep on them as well. She didn't even mind the barge of questions from Ruby which she honestly couldn't answer yet.
She catches Killian's eye in the small mirror and for a moment she is really confused about the thoughtful look in his eyes.
"What?"
He rinses his mouth one more time and moves closer to her.
"Truthfully?"
He looks so damn serious, as if they are deciding on something extremely essential and not who's taking which side of the bed. Emma doesn't get it but she doesn't have to in order to answer that question.
"Yeah. Always."
She feels him take her left hand in his own.
"I'd prefer it that way."
"What way? Me next to the window?"
"Me on your left side."
"Wha—"
Oh. Beach trips were always one of those activities Killian didn't join them for.
"Oh, Killian, you don't have to worr—"
"No, I know, you don't have to say—"
"But I want to."
She reaches for his left wrist and sighs lightly when he doesn't flinch away. She lets her hand rest above the fabric of his sleeve for the time being – one step at a time.
"See? Not worried," he'd probably sound more convincing, if his voice wasn't just a little shaky – Emma just raises an eyebrow and shuffles imperceptibly closer. "Okay, maybe a little worried."
"You don't have to be. Worried. About anything."
Emma thinks she is the one meant to be looking at him intently right now. But it's Killian's eyes that really burn into her, seemingly reading her very soul.
"I'm not," he shakes his head slightly, unconsciously. "Really, Emma, I— OK, I'm a little worried but just the standard, unavoidable amount."
She hums thoughtfully and starts walking backwards, pulling him along.
"Any way I can make you even less worried?"
His lips twitch up for a moment and she basks in the knowledge that she seems to have said the right thing.
"Was this— Does this make you uncomfortable?"
"Of course not. Why would you—"
"I don't… You never seemed all that comfortable around me."
She feels her jaw become a little unhinged.
"You thought it was because—"
"No. Well… No, I didn't think you were being… Bloody hell," Killian drops her hand to run his own through his hair and she thinks if he pulls his left arm away as well, she might cry. "I just thought maybe I made you a bit uncomfortable."
"Oh God," she uses her own free hand to hide her face.
Fuck. Fuck. She doesn't know how they ever managed to get this far, if he thought—
"Emma, hey, it's okay."
His pulls her hand away from her face and brushes aside the hair that fell out of her bun.
"I didn't think you disliked me or anything, just that maybe you weren't sure how to act around me. And, if you don't mind me saying, you get a bit prickly in situations in which you're unsure."
"I wasn't…" she sighs and looks him in the eye – if she doesn't say it now, when? "I wasn't uncomfortable around you. I just… well, you didn't always show up and when you did you flirted circles around everyone so… I kinda thought you were an arrogant ass."
He laughs. Killian takes a step back and lets out a full-belly laugh that – if she cared, she might be worried would wake David and MM in the next room.
"You thought I was arrogant enough to think I can flirt my way into Ruby and Belle's bed?"
"Kinda," she shrugs.
Killian laughs again. She isn't sure how she feels about it but it sure beats him telling her he's going to go bunk with Graham after all.
"Alright. So what then? You came to the shelter, figured I didn't spend all my time suffocating under a pile of women?"
If she wasn't so nervous still, she'll probably roll her eyes at the exaggeration.
"Figured I just couldn't afford all of Lucas' fancy dinners?"
She does admire his way of not beating around the bush though.
"Figured I wasn't such a wanker after all?"
"Sorry?"
Killian chuckles.
"Swan, you know those are not things that would attract most women, right?"
"Don't— I really am sorry. I've been very… I think it was just… I think I kinda needed a reason to not like you."
"I can assure you I have plenty of flaws, if you're still looking for those."
She does roll her eyes at that.
"I'm sure I'll uncover them all on my own eventually."
She fists her hand in his Henley and gives a sharp tug. They topple on the bed behind her less than gracefully.
"I think I might snore sometimes," he supplies helpfully.
"Horrifying."
"But you're definitely a kicker so I don't think you can complain about that one."
"I am?"
Killian's head pops up from where he was worrying the skin on her shoulder, her t-shirt already on its way to being stretched to hell.
"Are you telling me you don't remember almost kicking me clear off your bed the other night?"
"I did not."
"Swan."
"Did I?"
"I might have a bruise."
"Where?"
Really, as far as excuses to take his pants off go, she thinks it's pretty valid.
/
Belle is extremely generous in her praise for the bookmarks and bookjacket that Emma made her.
They laugh over the photo album David gives Killian for the better part of an hour.
Ruby has enough cookies, specially mixed perfumes and potpourri to last her a lifetime.
When asked how exactly she "made" the bottle of 25-year-old scotch she gives Graham, she points to the personalized label on the front with all the nonchalance of a woman who really couldn't be bothered.
Graham shows MM a picture of the bookshelf he built her and seems ridiculously apologetic about his very sensible decision to not drag it to Granny's cabin.
The gorgeous scarf and hat that Belle made for David may or may not make Emma sink a little lower into the couch cushions beside Killian.
She forgets all about her subpar knitting when he gives her his present.
"What are all of those?"
Only Ruby Lucas can sound both impressed and unimpressed at the same time.
Emma unscrews the top of the huge jar and plunges her hand inside, taking a tiny envelope at random. It reads "11/02".
"There are 365 of them."
"What?" she eyes boggle a little.
"One for each day of the new year."
She looks down at all the pieces of paper inside the jar. It's full to the brim. Her eyes are a little full as well. Her heart is fuller.
"They're pretty random," Killian chuckles and she can't believe he sounds nervous over the most perfect present she has ever received. "Book and movie quotes, questions, suggestions for the day, fortunes, just—"
Emma puts the jar on the table and reaches for Killian before she thinks better of it and stands up instead, pulling him along and dragging him out of the room.
"Why did we—"
His lips are chapped and warm and she wants to have this always.
/
She opens her first half an hour after midnight. It's his own Christmas fortune.
"Take a gamble on someone who seems hard to handle."