"Swan, what extraterrestrial abomination of a planet do you hail from?!"
Emma looked over at Killian's appalled face. Her brother's best friend's normally handsome face was contorted with what she hoped was faux disgust.
"Killian, I know you're not from this continent, and your bland British food-"
"I'm not British! I'm Irish. And quite frankly, I'm horrified you'd dare equate the two-"
With a slash of her hand through the air and a roll of her eyes, Emma attempted to continue, "Okay, fine. You're Irish, and I'm so incredibly sorry for daring to imply-"
"You dare intimate that I could ever be part of an empire of stodgy, Protestant usurpers…"
David Nolan looked back and forth between his step-sister and best friend in amusement as they argued. Looking over at his wife, he saw that Mary Margaret's eyebrows were raised in an echo of his amusement. Her eyes held something else, too...speculation, perhaps?
He decided to interrupt his warring sibling and friend. "Don't you guys think you're taking an argument about hot chocolate a bit too seriously?"
Both turned to glare at him.
"Listen, mate, if the lovely Swan here could just admit that hot chocolate needs marshmallows…" Killian's voice was full of irritation, his face and ears flushed.
Emma turned her glare from David back to Killian. "If you would just fucking try hot chocolate AS THE AZTECS INTENDED, you know, the ones who created hot chocolate, you'd see that I'm right-"
The interruption this time came not from the lightly fuming Irishman, but from a giggling Mary Margaret. "David, help me get the rum and whiskey, would you?"
The couple headed to the kitchen, leaving Emma and Killian sitting opposite each other in the living room.
They looked at each other sheepishly.
"Listen, Swan, I'll give your cocoa with cinnamon a try if you'd like. I did rather overreact. It's just...you know I've been watching Buffy since you recommended it-"
"And you were, what? Inspired by Spike's love of hot chocolate with 'the little marshmallows'? You do realize that even if it wasn't a TV show, he's a vampire with possibly damaged taste buds," Emma interrupted with a smile this time.
Killian grinned back at her rakishly. "Well, love, my taste buds certainly aren't damaged. I'll gladly taste your chocolate concoction from those decadent lips if you come here and give us a kiss," he said, patting his lap teasingly.
Emma blushed and looked toward the kitchen in slight panic, "Shhh! You know they think we loathe each other."
"Perhaps it's time for that to change." Emma gulped as her dashing rapscallion of a boyfriend stalked toward her predatorily. Bending over so that his lips were level with her ear, he whispered in that low, sexy tone she'd grown to adore over the last six weeks, "Would it really be so bad if Dave and his Snow White of a wife found out about us?"
In lieu of answering, Emma turned her head so that their lips pressed together.
At that moment, David and Mary Margaret walked back into the living room. The whiskey in the former's hands crashed to the ground as he gaped open-mouthed.
Emma and Killian broke their kiss, raising their heads. "Bloody waste of good alcohol there, mate,"
Killian grimaced.
Mary Margaret smiled in satisfaction. "Well, at least it wasn't the rum."