"The heating's down," Emma says in response to Killian's raised eyebrow. He has just arrived to find her draped in a large sweater covered in reindeer, a knitted hat covering her ears. He steps inside and frowns.

"Aye, I can feel it," he replies. He puts his hand in his pocket to retain some warmth. "How are you going to have guests?"

"They'll have to make do," Mary Margaret says, kneeling by the fireplace. She is trying without success to light a fire in an attempt to warm the flat up somewhat. "Nobody's going to want to go and check what the problem is in this weather." She glances out the window, where snow is falling copiously.

"Not even David," Emma adds. David, emerging from his bedroom, pouts.

"Hey! I don't want to freeze!"

"It is unpleasant out there," Killian agrees, shaking the melted snow out of his hair to prove his point. Emma grimaces as the cold droplets hit her face, making Killian grin.

"Please don't make me any colder than I need to be," she says.

"But warming you back up would be such good fun," he replies, low enough that neither Mary Margaret nor David can hear him. Emma smirks.

"You're so predictable."

"Offer's always open, love," he says as she makes her way to the couch. David throws him a suspicious look to which he responds with a wink. He takes a seat beside Emma, trying very hard not to laugh at David's answering expression.

"Is the fire ready yet?" Henry calls from upstairs.

"Why don't you come down and help if you want one so badly?" Emma calls back.

"It's too cold to move!"

"Are you still under the covers?" she asks him.

"I might be," he replies. "But they're the only warm thing in this entire flat right now!"

Emma sighs and turns to Killian.

"He's been up there all day," she tells him.

"Don't blame him," Killian mutters.

"Emma," Mary Margaret says softly. "Do you think you could try starting the fire?" Emma shrugs, and is about to get up to join her mother when Killian takes her hand to stop her.

"I don't think she meant like that, love." She frowns.

"Right." She sits up straighter, taking a deep breath, and holds her hands out towards the wood in the fireplace. "I hope you guys know this is pointless, though."

"Just concentrate," David says reassuringly. She sighs and closes her eyes, and a few moments later, a small flame catches and their fire starts burning.

"See! I knew you could do it," Mary Margaret says, a proud smile on her face. Emma leans back again, taking Killian's hand and smiling a little herself. He knows she's more pleased with herself than she'll let on.

"Fire's started, Henry!" she calls. Almost immediately, Henry shrieks, presumably having left his bed and felt the cold air, and then pads down the stairs quickly, hugging himself. He sits down and cuddles up against his mother, for once not caring that he's invading her and Killian's space.

"When are people coming?" he asks, pulling his knees up to his chest. David checks his watch.

"Any minute now," he tells Henry, who looks down at his pyjamas, frowning. Emma elbows him.

"Go change!" He sighs and runs back upstairs to put some clothes on, returning just in time to answer a knock on their door. He opens it to Robin and a slightly nervous looking Regina.

"Mom! You came!" Henry throws his arms around her happily, and she smiles down at him.

"Of course I did," she replies. Mary Margaret and David welcome the two, and Emma reluctantly gets up from her place on the couch, ready to greet the rest of the guests.

Soon, Ruby, Granny and the dwarves have also arrived, crowding the small flat, but somehow comfortably. The cold is less noticeable and within half an hour, even Regina looks comfortable in the midst of the words and laughter.

Emma leans against the kitchen counter next to Killian, her glass of mulled wine warming her fingers. She looks fondly at Henry explaining various decorations on their Christmas tree before turning to Killian.

"Having fun?" He nods.

"Aye, more than expected," he says.

"What were you expecting?"

"A little more ignore-the-pirate, a little less in terms of holiday greetings," he admits. "And more tension. I'm surprised everyone's getting along so well." Emma shrugs.

"What can I say? We all behave ourselves at Christmas."

"I do hope that's not a rule you intend to keep up." She laughs.

"I'm not making any promises," she says, turning to place her now empty glass on the countertop beside her. As she does this, the mistletoes hanging above them catches her eye.

"Did you stand here on purpose?" she asks. Killian raises an eyebrow.

"Why?" She looks up at the mistletoe and he follows her gaze.

"No," he says. Then he smirks. "But you do know the rules."

"I do," she agrees, gripping his collar. She pulls him down until their lips meet, slowly at first but quickly becoming a little too heated for the middle of her parents' flat. Though she's reluctant, she's about to push him away with the hand she has on his chest before a voice distracts them.

"Hand, Killian!" David says firmly. Emma finds she doesn't need to push Killian back because his laughter at David prevents him from continuing anyway.

"Sorry, mate," he says, moving his hand back up to Emma's waist. She'd be embarrassed if her father weren't so ridiculous - she's almost surprised he didn't yell at Killian across the room and attract everyone's attention - and she finds herself laughing as well when she sees Henry approaching, his smile from his conversation with Regina turning quickly into a disgusted look.

"Really?" he says disapprovingly, sounding closer to thirty than thirteen. Emma steps back from Killian and takes his hand in hers.

"You'd think we were in high school," she says.

"As far as I know, I believe teenage partygoers would be less judgemental," Killian mutters. David sighs.

"Just... Don't, next time?" he says. He makes his way back to the others before giving Killian the chance to answer, probably for his own good. Henry decides to get his glass of water in silence, now pink cheeked.

"How do you live with that?" Killian asks.

"Not a problem when you're not around," Emma reminds him. He chuckles, and they return to the party, hands still joined.