A/N: I think we can all agree that fluff is the only medication for what we had to endure in last night's finale. I started working on this well over a month ago (hence why part of it takes place over Thanksgiving), but college is the devil so I just now had time and motivation to finish it. Also, for anyone wondering, I haven't given up on Fire and Dynamite! I hope to have the next chapter up soon! Let me know your thoughts on this please!
Emma was hanging up another stocking on the bookstore's mantel when she heard the door open. Finally, someone else was here to help her put up the Christmas decorations that were much more trouble than necessary when she had to open on a Monday morning. "It's about time," she called over her shoulder as she slowly eased her way down the ladder she'd been using to hang decorations on the wall.
"Are you implying that you missed me, Swan?"
She stopped halfway down the ladder and groaned to herself at the sound of the familiar accent. It would be him. Of course she'd forgotten it was Elsa's day off, and she'd be working today's shift with Killian Jones, the man she'd been butting heads with constantly since he began working at the store with Emma two months ago. "Get over yourself, Jones. The only thing I've been missing is someone else to help me put all this junk up." Even though Halloween had just been celebrated a week ago, Regina, the owner of Storybrooke Reads was convinced that the holidays would be their most profitable time of the year and insisted that Christmas items should be up before the store opened that day. It wasn't that Emma didn't like Christmas, but the holidays were a time that retail employees never exactly looked forward to. She'd been dreading the thought of decorating all weekend.
Emma stepped off the ladder and began to look over her work so far as Killian came out from putting his coat away in the back office. "You've done a nice job, love." She rolled her eyes and shoved the next box of lights and garland towards him, trying to ignore the way he looked in his black button-down shirt and tight jeans. (They may not have gotten along, but she couldn't deny the fact that he was too attractive for his own good). "I'm not your love. Now do your job for once and decorate the front desk before it's time to open."
"As you wish, love." She scowled at him before going to work on the window display, not thinking at all about just how blue his eyes were when he smirked at her.
-/-
The week leading up to Black Friday was almost worse than the day itself. Even in a town as small as Storybrooke, the locals never missed a chance at a good deal anywhere they could get one, and that included the bookstore. Truckloads of new books began coming in the week before, and it was impossible to go two minutes without a customer asking about what sales they would be offering and what time to line up outside.
Despite how much stress the bookstore had put her under, Emma found herself there on Thanksgiving night, still several hours before the first shoppers were estimated to arrive at a time when no one should even consider buying books. With no family, and no friends that didn't have plans with theirs, it was nothing but an average Thursday with the exception of a parade on TV to her. That didn't make enduring the holiday alone any easier though, which is why she let herself in the bookstore hours early, using her employee discount to buy the new novel from one of her favorite authors and began to read it in front of the fireplace while eating a pizza she ordered in.
She was so engrossed in the story that she didn't hear the store's door open, or the footsteps coming up behind her. "Is that a new book, Swan?"
Emma yelped and all but threw her book across the room. "Killian, what the hell?!" she snapped. "What are you doing here?"
He chuckled lightly, obvious amused at how surprised she was. "I could ask the same of you, love. I was out for a walk when I saw you through the store's window. You should probably close that curtain, by the way. Never know who could try to come in if they saw a lovely lass like yourself all alone in here."
She took a bite of pizza, resisting the urge to slap that smug grin off of his face as he sat down beside her. "Whatever. Why were you out for a walk on Thanksgiving anyway? Shouldn't you be spending time with your family before we get stampeded?"
"No family to spend time with." He tried not to let it show, but she could sense a bit of sadness in the way he said it.
Emma suddenly felt bad for snapping at him; he hadn't actually meant to scare her, after all.
"I know the feeling," she mumbled, not sure of what else to say. She pushed the pizza box across the table in front of them, hoping he would see it as some sort of a peace offering. "Help yourself."
They sat in comfortable silence as they ate. Emma couldn't help but think of how unusual it was; normally they couldn't be around each other for more than a few minutes without a sarcastic comment from either side that usually led to an argument.
Killian must have sensed it, too. She noticed him looking at her out of the corner of her eye, frowning. Eventually, curiosity got the best of her. "What? Do I have something on my face?"
He shook his head quickly, not realizing just how closely he'd been watching her. "No, love. I didn't mean to stare. I was just wondering….why exactly did you decide to come here of all places tonight?"
Emma sighed. The answer to his question typically wasn't something she liked to share. (Hell, she never shared it.) But, for some insane reason, she felt like he could trust him, added to the fact that he seemed to be in a similar situation. "I didn't want to spend a family holiday in my apartment alone, so I came here. I know it sounds crazy to show up at my job when I'm not working, but I actually like this place. Books have been something I've loved all my life, and I get to be surrounded by them constantly when I'm here. So, I guess I'm spending Thanksgiving here because it feels like…like home."
She was expecting a laugh or an eye roll, but was surprised with a smile instead. "Aye, I agree our place of employment does have some redeeming qualities."
After a moment, he adds, "Of course, I'm sure you feel much more at home with me around."
She throws the book she'd been reading at him, but still manages to laugh. "I'm so grateful to be honored with your presence."
"As you should be."
That one gets him a kick to the shin.
They spend the rest of the night telling each other past Black Friday horror stories and drinking enough caffeine to get them through the madness that would inevitably hit the bookstore in just a few hours. She even goes as far to tell him The Princess Bride is her favorite movie, and she always wanted a cat to name Buttercup but never got one thanks to being in foster care. It seems as if they're friends now, and as weird as it sounds, Emma can't say it bothers her.
-/-
Did you know that Norwegian scientists have hypothesized that Rudolph's red nose is probably the result of a parasitic infection of his respiratory system?
She gets his text the next Sunday night when she's curled up on her couch with hot chocolate and one of the Peanuts Christmas specials.
I didn't know that, but thank you for telling me. I don't know how I would have gone the rest of my life without knowing the origin of Rudolph's facial features.
Very funny, Swan. Some of us actually find these details quite fascinating.
You're such a nerd.
I am no such thing. I'm simply a person who enjoys learning aspects about things that others may choose to deem unimportant.
Nerd.
Takes one to know one, love.
She does not giggle. Not at all.
-/-
It happens for the first time just over a week later.
"So, what's going on with you and Killian?"
She and Elsa are closing the store for the day when her friend and coworker brings it up. The question surprises Emma so much that she drops the key as she's locking up.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Elsa. There is no me and Killian."
The blonde stands with her hands on her hips as she smirks at Emma, obviously unconvinced. "Cut the crap. I know you two spent time together over Thanksgiving. Not to mention the way he always looks at you."
That catches her off guard, more so than the original question. "The way he looks at me?"
"Emma, for months now, he's been staring at you like a lovesick teenager with a crush."
"Th-that's ridiculous," she stammers. "We're just friends. You're overthinking again." She didn't know what to think about any of this. It was only recently that she'd been able to think of him as a friend rather than an annoying coworker.
"Say what you want, Em, but he's got it bad."
You have got to be kidding me. Killian certainly didn't have feelings for her…did he?
No, of course not. Elsa was just being a hopeless romantic and trying to play matchmaker yet again.
(That's what Emma kept telling herself, anyway).
-/-
Swan, did you know that the Germans made the first artificial Christmas trees out of dyed goose feathers?
Killian, it's two in the morning. Why are you texting me about goose feathers?
Because it's vital information!
Not when we both have to work later! Go to bed.
Fine, I will.
Swan?
Yes?
All the gifts in the Twelve Days of Christmas would equal 364 gifts.
Goodnight, Killian.
They were just friends…right?
-/-
The second time it happened was a few days later in the bookstore.
She was working with Killian in the children's book section, trying desperately not to think about her recent conversation with Elsa. (He didn't look at Emma any differently than he did anyone else, he simply did not).
The store was full of dozens of children all currently on a sugar high and obviously set on making Emma's shift a nightmare. Regina had hired a man dressed up as Santa to read to a group of kids as a way to get involved with the community and make new customers out of their parents. She and Killian just conveniently happened to be the only ones available to pass out refreshments while it was all happening (thanks to August calling in "sick").
Of course the dork insisted on wearing an elf had throughout the whole thing and threatened to have the kids tease her if she didn't do the same.
Which is how she ended up with the ridiculous red and green item on her head for everyone in the store to see.
(Elsa manages to snap a picture of her wearing it and she threatens to end her life if it makes it onto social media.)
Killian spends the entire hour making Christmas jokes and they're so corny that she can't help but laugh, no matter how hard she tries not to. Most of them are worse than the random Christmas facts he liked to send her for no apparent reason.
("What does Santa suffer from if he gets stuck in a chimney?
Claustrophobia!"
"What do you call a frozen elf hanging from the ceiling?
An elfcicle!"
"Now you're just making yourself sound stupid."
"Please, Swan, we all know you love my sense of humor.")
When the crowd is finally gone, the only thing left to tackle is the huge mess that was left behind. The piles of red and green cups and cookie remains make the place look more like a garbage dump than a bookstore.
Emma's able to concentrate on cleaning up long enough to forget about what the two of them are- or aren't- until he decides to act like an idiot once again.
"Pardon me, Swan, but I'm afraid you've got something on your nose."
She drops the broom she'd been using and looks around for a mirror. "What? Where?"
"Here."
Before she can react, he's taken the white icing from a leftover cookie and smeared it across her face with his thumb.
"Killian Jones, I'm going to murder you!"
She looks for something equally as messy to fling at him, but a tap on the shoulder stops her.
"Is there any way you could help me find a book? I'm trying to find a Christmas present for my granddaughter."
Killian uses this as an opportunity to run before she can get revenge and she makes a mental note to make him pay later.
The older woman is gray-haired with glasses and barely comes up to Emma's shoulder. She knows she looks ridiculous with the mess on her face and mentally curses Killian yet again as she wipes it off for making her look bad in front of a customer.
"Yes, of course. What are you looking for?"
Eventually she's able to locate the right book for the woman and goes to ring up her items at the cash register. Emma noticed the woman had oddly been smiling at her the whole time, but didn't think anything of it until she sighs and says, "You and that fella of yours certainly are cute together."
The statement shocks Emma even more than Elsa's. "What, um…I mean he's not…" she tries to give a half-coherent answer as she wraps and bags her purchase.
Her customer smiles again and Emma can almost make out unshed tears in her eyes. "Sort of reminds me of my husband and I. He used to love this time of year so much…"
Emma can't bring herself to correct her after hearing something like that, and simply wishes the woman a Merry Christmas as she takes her things and leaves.
The store is quiet and she's left standing behind the cash register, lost in her own thoughts. Elsa wondering if there was something going on between them was one thing; she worked with the them almost every day. But this was a complete stranger, for heaven's sake! How was she able to watch them for merely a few seconds in the middle of what was almost a food fight and assume they were together? Did he really have feelings for her?
More importantly, did she have any kind of feelings for him?
She must look as terrified as she feels because Killian is suddenly standing in front of her, looking worried. "Swan, are you alright?"
Hearing his voice snaps her out of whatever trance she was in, and she can't stop her heart from pounding in her chest as she glances at him.
"Swan?"
"Uh, yeah. I'm fine." She quickly takes off the elf hat and grabs her coat and scarf. "I'm taking my break now," she calls as she hurries past him and out the door.
As soon as Emma's outside, she lets out the breath she feels like she's been holding in for hours. She walks down the street to where her yellow bug is parked and climbs in the front seat, letting her head fall against the steering wheel in defeat.
Emma didn't do relationships. She didn't date. And most importantly, she didn't get emotionally attached. To anyone.
So how in the world had she let herself fall in love?
-/-
All letters addressed to Santa in the United States go to Santa Claus, Indiana.
She doesn't reply.
-/-
She avoids him like the plague after the last incident in the store. Sure, they still work together, but she ignores him as much as possible and only speaks when necessary. His texts about her behavior go unanswered as well. She knows she's probably being unfair to him- it's not as if he knows what happened when she was asked about the two of them supposedly being "together." But pushing people away is what she does best, and she doesn't know how to do anything else with Killian.
The only person Emma hadn't pushed away had almost broken her beyond repair, which is why she was always what Elsa typically referred to as "prickly." It wasn't just for her sake, either. Most men that had made an appearance in her life usually regretted getting involved with her, so how could Killian be any different? They were friends, something that was far and few between for her, and the idea of losing him killed her, even if it meant shutting him out. Clearly, it was best for both of them.
At least, that's what she told herself in the middle of the night as she kept rereading his text.
Have I done anything to upset you, love?
No, she thinks as she forces herself to put the phone away before she gives in and responds. You just made me realize how in love with you I am, that's all.
-/-
It becomes impossible to avoid him completely on Christmas Eve. All of the bookstore employees were planning to have a staff party at Storybrooke Reads after the store closed for the holiday. Emma tries to come up with an excuse to miss it, but everyone knows she has nowhere else to be, and she owes it to Regina to at least be polite and make an appearance.
Emma shows up for the party wearing a simple red dress and heels, blonde hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders. She hasn't been in the room thirty seconds when she spots him, talking to Regina's fiancée by the food table. The grey sweater he's wearing makes his eyes look more blue than usual, and she has to make herself breathe. August walks over to offer her a drink, and she's thankful for the glass of wine to distract her as she takes a seat near the fireplace.
She tries to make small talk with her coworkers, but all she can think about is the one she's managed to avoid for weeks. Elsa brings her sister to the party, and the girl spends a solid thirty minutes babbling about her wedding plans before Emma finally caves and mumbles an excuse about needing another drink. She's walking over to Leroy, who's serving spiked eggnog, when someone taps her on the shoulder.
"Are you avoiding me, Swan?"
Yes. "No, of course not. What makes you think that?"
He frowns. "You've been acting funny for the past few weeks now. I couldn't even get you to laugh at my Frosty joke the other day."
She remembers it; it's one of the first Christmas jokes he's made that's actually been funny. "I've just been busy…y'know, with the holidays and all."
He clearly doesn't buy it, but doesn't argue with her either. "If you say so." He glances around the room at their colleagues, who are all gathered around August in the corner while he does some kind of magic trick with his pen. "I need to go take care of something. Goodnight, Swan."
It shouldn't hurt Emma as much as it does to watch him walk out of the room. It was all her fault, too. She pushed him away to the point that he'd had enough, and she can't say she blames him. She finished the last of her drink and went to find her coat. There had been more than enough celebrating for her.
She was heading for the door when her boss stopped her. "Leaving already, Miss Swan?" Regina didn't seem angry, it was more like confused.
"Yeah. I'm not feeling very well and I'd like to go home and get some sleep."
"Suit yourself. But I was asked to give this to you before you left." Regina handed her a small wrapped box with a label that had Emma's name on it. "Merry Christmas, Emma."
She quickly takes off the wrapping paper, eager to see what was inside the box. Who in the world was giving her a Christmas present?
Taking the lid off the box, she was surprised to pull out a small stuffed cat. She was confused at first, until she found the note attached to it.
It's not the real thing, but I hoped it would make you smile. Merry Christmas, Swan.
It was all she could do not to burst into tears as she saw Buttercup written on the collar around the cat's neck. One thing was obvious; she needed to find him. Now.
Emma was thankful to have found out what street he lived on after discussing annoying neighbors when they were together on Thanksgiving. She breaks nearly every traffic law in Storybrooke on the way there, and hopes the town's law enforcement had better things to do than pull her over on Christmas Eve.
She drives down his street until she finds the one mailbox marked "Jones" and prays it's the right one. She suddenly becomes nervous as she walks to his front door. Her hands tremble as she knocks, one of them still clutching the stuffed cat. Just what exactly is she going to say to him?
Her worries disappear when he answers the door holding a twenty, wearing sweatpants and a faded Yankees t-shirt. He clearly wasn't expecting her. "You're definitely not the pizza guy. What brings you here, Swan?"
Instead of answering, she throws her arms around his neck and captures his mouth with hers. He's taken aback at first, but wastes no time in dropping the money in his hand and taking her in his arms, one hang tangling in her hair as he kisses her with everything he's got.
(If this is what kissing is truly like, she's never been kissed before in her life.)
He pulls away when they're both out of breath and his forehead rests against hers. "I take it you're not avoiding me anymore, love?"
Emma shakes her head. "No. I'm sorry about that. I came to say thank you," she gestures to the cat she's somehow still holding. "It's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."
He reaches to scratch behind one of his ears, and if she didn't know any better, she'd think he was embarrassed. "I hoped you'd like it."
"I love it," she whispers. He looks at her with nothing but love and admiration in his eyes, and for a moment she thinks her heart will swell up and burst out of her chest. "And I love you, too."
His eyes widen in surprise. "What was that, Swan? I don't think I heard you correctly."
She rolls her eyes. "You damn well heard me," she laughs. "I love you, Killian."
The smile on his face is brighter than any Christmas lights she's ever seen. "Well, that's a relief," he says, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I love you, too."
For the first time, neither of them have to worry about spending Christmas alone.
And when one of her gifts under the tree the next year ends up being a ring, no one is exactly surprised.