"Something looks delicious," Killian said as he closed the front door behind him, tossed his jacket over the back of a chair nearby, and dropped his deputy badge into a basket by the door that was customarily used for keys.

"And it didn't come from Granny's. This is all me," Emma bragged, sitting a casserole dish filled with baked macaroni and cheese on the table as Killian approached, wrapped his arms around her waist, and dipped her as low to the ground as he could, their faces inches apart.

"I wasn't talking about dinner, love," he whispered with a smirk before he pressed his lips to hers. It began soft, but the moment he whirled around and placed her back on her feet, tangling his fingers in her hair, his hunger and hers combined in an electric moment that had the air around them humming. When they finally pulled back, both gasping for air, their mischievous smirks mirrored one another in such a perfect way that it was clear to both of them that they had been made for each other. "Swan, what have you done?" Killian asked suddenly, crossing his arms over his chest as if satisfied with some unspoken victory.

"What the hell do you mean by that? I can't cook a nice meal without there being something wrong?" Emma asked, feigning annoyance as best she could, though Killian just raised an eyebrow at her, his smile growing wider as he waited for the answer that he knew eventually she would provide. It only took a moment, as Emma glanced over his shoulder at something in the living room, before she cracked beneath the pressure of a simple look. "I wanted to show you something tonight."

"There's a thing or two I'd like to show you as well, darling," he responded with a wink that was answered with a roll of her eyes.

"Not that. Can't you think of anything else?"

"I think of you. Every moment of every day. And occasionally…" he began before Emma loudly cleared her throat to correct him. "Sometimes…" he started again only for her to fake a cough and shake her head. "A good amount of the time…and damn it Emma that's as far as I'm going because contrary to popular belief, it is not all that I think about…a good amount of the time, I think of making love to you. It's your fault, though, love. Honestly, how you could expect that your beauty would not make every man who encounters you tremble with desire is beyond my comprehension," he finished, brushing the back of his hand against her cheek so lightly that she shivered. "So whenever I get the chance to show you just how incredibly beautiful…" he paused to place a kiss on her cheek. "…and sexy…" he paused again, his lips pressing against her neck. "…and bloody brilliant that you are and how lucky that I am to spend my life loving you, I plan on seizing it with all that I am." He brought his lips back to meet hers again, just briefly, because he knew exactly the effect it was having on her. Though before she could push him down onto the table and have him right there (she'd have to make note of that for some other time), she shook her head, as if to clear the far-too-convincing distraction and focus on the task at hand.

"Sorry, Captain. I give the orders tonight," she said, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek and taking him by the hand to lead him to the living room. "I'm going to introduce you to a time-old tradition in this land. We're going to set our food up on trays in here and watch a movie while we eat dinner."

"Sorry, love, but watch a what?" he asked, eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"A movie. On the TV…television," she answered, pointing to the flat screen mounted on the far wall. Killian approached it, stared briefly at the blank screen, and turned back to Emma with his hands planted firmly on his hips in such a way that reminded Emma of just how much time Killian had been spending with David at the sheriff's station.

"I thought this was a looking glass. I can see myself in it," he explained, as if revealing some new information she wasn't privy to.

"That's just because the screen is reflective. Let's get the food ready, and I'll show you." He took a mock bow, throwing his hands out in defeat.

"Aye, aye, Captain," he responded before muttering beneath his breath low enough that he thought Emma wouldn't hear it: "Though the activities I had planned would have been far more enjoyable."

With plates of food sitting in front of each of them, Emma reached out for the remote and flipped the TV on just as the movie she'd seen on the guide earlier in the day was starting. She turned, focusing on Killian's initial reaction to the figure on the screen. She'd never seen such a mixture of confusion and concentration on her pirate's face before. He sailed an enchanted ship between realms as if it were the simplest act a person could ever accomplish, but moving pictures on a screen seemed to enchant him in a way that no real magic ever could.

Could it be that some of you are not acquainted with the story of Rudolph?

Killian shook his head softly, eyes still fixed on the screen.

Well, pull up an ice block and lend an ear. You know how Santa uses these flying reindeer to pull his sleigh.

Again, Killian shook his head in response, and Emma clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the laughter, though she couldn't help the soft giggle that escaped. Killian turned his head as if to ask her what was so funny, but he couldn't seem to pull his gaze away from the TV.

You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen

Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen

But do you recall

The most famous reindeer of all

"Quite small for a stag," Killian muttered when Rudolph first appeared. He held his hand up in front of the TV, pinching his fingers together as if to measure the actual size of the tiny reindeer. And when his nose glowed bright red for the first time, Emma watched Killian's eyes widen, though he said nothing.

It wasn't until the Abominable Snow Monster of the North first appeared that Killian moved at all. Emma had allowed herself to focus back on the movie, though Killian's obvious bewilderment over this newest piece of technology from her world was proving far more entertaining to her in that particular moment. She turned to find Killian dashing from the couch and into the bedroom. Just as she started to stand up and follow him, he reappeared back in the living room, brandishing his sword at the television with a fierce expression.

Unsure whether she should laugh or panic, Emma scrambled off of the couch, choosing first to protect the flat screen from certain destruction.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Captain," she said, standing between Killian and the TV. The second that she came into view, he lowered his sword, though his blue eyes blazed bright as he kept a watchful gaze over Emma's shoulder at the movie.

"What is that creature and how did it get here?" Killian asked, his grip still tight on the hilt of the sword that he held at his side, ready to attack at any moment.

"It's called the Bumble, and it's not here," Emma explained. "It's a part of the movie. None of it is real."

"It certainly looks real to me, love," he said as Emma, thinking on her feet, grabbed the remote off of the couch and pressed pause. "That's a strange wand," Killian said as he took the remote from her, turning it over and back in his hands and staring at each of the buttons.

"It's not a wand. It's a remote, and it controls the TV. It's a form of entertainment in this world. Like books, only instead of reading the stories you can see them." He furrowed his brow, his lips curving into a focused frown as he considered her words.

"So you enjoy viewing such acts of violence?" he asked.

"Just wait until David sits you down and makes you watch football," Emma teased, though Killian only looked more confused, so she simply smiled and placed a quick kiss to his lips, taking his hand and pulling him back to the couch. "Just trust me. You were enjoying it up to this point, weren't you?" As he laid his sword in the floor and took his seat next to her, a small smile crept onto his lips.

"Perhaps," he answered. "Why did you choose this particular—movie," he said, taking a moment to test out the new addition to his vocabulary. "…for me to view with you?"

"Well…" Emma began, her gaze slowly lowering until she was staring at a piece of loose fabric that she was picking at with her fingers. "The holidays are supposed to be about family. And growing up without one kinda made this time of the year suck. But no matter where I was or what family I was with, this movie and its theme was always the same. A couple of misfits who are finally accepted and loved for who they are. And having something stable like that to look forward to every year…you come to love it because it's always there for you. It gives you hope that things will get better. And then one day, when you least expect it, you realize that things have gotten better. Now…I have Mary Margaret and David. I have Henry. And I have you. You give me hope. I haven't really told you much about my life pre-Storybrooke, and I want to, but that part of my life…" she trailed off, fighting back the threat of tears that burned in her throat. "It's hard to explain, but I thought this might be the best way I could." She continued tugging at the fabric on the couch pillow, unable to meet his eyes, though after a moment she felt his hand brush against her neck, his fingers gently tilting her chin up so that she had no choice but to look at him. His blue eyes were soft and bright, amazing her consistently with their ability to change shade so drastically that they seemed to reinvent the definition of blue every time she looked at him.

"I know you, Emma. I may not know every moment of pain or joy, but I do know this," he said, placing his hand gently over her heart. "I, too, know what it feels like to be alone…to be a misfit, as you said. And it was you who reminded me what it's like to be a part of something again…part of a family. So I intend on dedicating the rest of my life to ensuring that you never know what it feels like to be alone again. To knowing…and loving…you more every day. And if this movie is a way of solving another piece of the wondrous puzzle that you are, then by all means…"

"I guess we're just a couple of misfits who fit in with each other," Emma said as a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth that brightened her tear-filled eyes. Killian pressed his lips softly against hers, his hand cradling the back of her head. When they finally pulled away, Killian leaned back against the couch, pulling Emma along with him. She molded herself against his chest where their two bodies seemed to fit together like…well, like two pieces of a puzzle.

"Shall we?" she asked as she leaned forward to retrieve the remote from the table.

"As you wish," Killian responded with a wink as they settled in together and Emma pressed play.