Note: So this was written for one of my RP partners who played Emma. It was her Christmas gift, and occurs in an AU we had where Emma killed Claire, and Mark convinced Luke to let her run away with them. It's one of the ships I really love and want to write more of sometime soon. Enjoy!

It's still very dark when Emma wakes. The clock beside her bed reads three am. It's finally Christmas day.

She's been abroad for over a year, now. Bouncing around the globe, first to Venezuela then to Australia, before finally landing in Europe. She'd never left America before. She'd not wanted to leave under these circumstances, and not originally in this company, but… she's free, she's safe, and she's seeing the world.

There's a soft, sleepy sigh behind her. The company. Emma carefully rolls over to face the man snoozing on the other side of the bed.

Mark Gray still manages to look like a child when he sleeps. He's not much younger than her—two, maybe three years—but it could be a decade when he's dozing, completely relaxed. She's had the pleasure of seeing him like this many times since she'd joined him and his twin brother Luke in their escape from the FBI. And Joe. Both her and the twins had taken something from him. Them, Mandy. Her… Claire.

Emma watches Mark sleep. He's been so… nice. It's unbelievable really. She'd betrayed them. Tricked him into telling her where the original getaway plane was, laughed at him while he mourned his brother. But he flew to her defense when Luke tried to keep him from bringing her along.

"She killed Claire, Luke," he'd shouted at him. "Joe will be after her too. We can't leave her to him and the FBI. Please."

Still not sure about his motivations, Emma stayed very cautious with the twins. She could trust Mark at least enough to know that he wouldn't kill her in her sleep, but Luke was something else entirely. She'd lie awake until she heard both of them breathing deeply. She rarely turned her back on them. She made her own food even when Mark graciously offered to cook for her. All that and more for almost three months.

When they got to Paris, they rented an actual house and planned to stay until things died down more. While Luke dealt with all the arrangements, Mark dragged an almost unwilling, mostly curious Emma somewhere for a surprise. When she recognized the Louvre before her, she genuinely was. And just a bit touched.

He showed her everything. Every painting, every sculpture, every artist that inspired her. More than once she'd caught herself smiling, and him smiling at her. Finally, he put her in front of HER. The most recognized woman in the world. La Gioconda. The Mona Lisa. It was small. She'd heard it was. But it was still just as gorgeous as any large print of it ever could be, if not more because it was the real thing.

She felt Mark step closer to her, his presence warm and honestly nice.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?"

For a moment, she found herself at a loss for what to say to him. There were no words. He gave her something she'd always wanted, but never dared ask him for. And all she had done all that time was show him distrust. She looked at him, took in his kind smile and his relaxed stance and his bright, joyous eyes.

"Thank you," she blurted out. "Thank you so much, Mark."

He simply smiled wider, nodded and looked away as he blushed.

After that, Emma let herself trust the twins. Even Luke. As long as Mark kept him from doing anything he wanted to do, she'd be fine. Mark had done something for her she could probably never repay. And he'd shown her a kindness she really never expected.

They stayed in Paris, until two weeks ago, when Luke announced he'd be going to Denmark to get a hold of more of Lily's resources. And neither Mark nor Emma would be joining him. She heard them argue long into the night. It was the first time she'd seen Mark lose to Luke. The elder twin usually gave in to the younger. It was endearing, really, to see him so eager to make his brother happy.

But not this time. Mark spent much of the two weeks since then either ignoring Luke, not talking to him, or just being snide every chance he got. Emma wondered what he was upset about: Luke leaving without him, or Mark being left alone with Emma. She was mostly certain it was the former, but she still had her concerns.

Luke had left three days earlier, with promises to keep in touch so that they'd know he was safe and free. He pulled Mark aside, and spoke to him in hushed tones. She tried her best not to listen. Then he surprised her by telling her where he'd hidden Mark's presents, if he didn't find them by Christmas.

"He usually does," he'd explained, grinning his crooked grin. "He's a little too observant to hide things from. But if he doesn't… make sure he gets them, okay?"

She'd nodded. "I will."

"Thanks. There's something for you in there as well." She'd raised an eyebrow and he'd simply shrugged. "It's Christmas. You're part of the family now. Figured I'd get used to it and act like it. Plus… it made Mark happy."

That's what it's all about isn't? He's the kindest of the both of them and the only thing connecting them. They both care about him, and both will be happy as long as he is. Keeping him happy is what brought him into her bed, really. He'd been having trouble sleeping, and asked if she wouldn't mind too terribly if he shared with her. Of course she didn't. She still owed him some of her life and her freedom. Helping him sleep was small compared to that.

It's been working, thankfully. It's been hard enough to see him so sad and even more quiet than usual, let alone seeing him sad and exhausted. He's kept to his side of the bed, and she did her best to keep to hers. She doesn't want a repeat of what happened in the art studio months ago.

Mark looks different than he did then. Just a bit older, maybe. And then there's the hair. She shifted to let her fingers brush the very tips of it. They'd talked him into letting them cut and dye it. He's blond now. More blond than she'd been when they'd met, and more yellow than white. She'd dyed her own hair brown, to comfort him and to change her own look. She could tell he wasn't a huge fan of his coloring, but it would fade. And Luke would return. And he'd cheer up again.

He hums softly, and his eyes blink open. It takes them a moment to focus but when they do, he smiles sleepily.

"Hi."

"Hello."

His brows draw together. "What time is it? It's still dark."

"Just after three." She slowly pulls her hand away from him.

Mark's face darkens slightly. But he nods into his pillow. "Merry Christmas."

"Same to you," she whispers, smiling at him.

He blinks, staring her down. She wants to shift, show discomfort, but she doesn't. Mark is used to a certain kind of intimacy. He's been through so much, lost almost everything. And now he's spending Christmas without his brother. She's not going to take something else away from him.

Shit, she wonders how Luke must be feeling. At least Mark has her; his brother has no one, literally and figuratively. Mark had filled her in on things she'd not known. Like Luke's close friendship with the strange Frenchwoman whose death started the domino pattern that led them here. How it sent him on a downward spiral that got him caught. She wonders if the jealousy she sees on Luke's face when he sees them together has less to do with Mark and more with her growing friendship with him. She wonders if Luke is more lonely than he shows.

Something clicks. Something she should have noticed before. She sits up, jolting Mark out of the last vestiges of sleep to sit up with her.

"Emma? What is it?"

She slides out of bed and gestures for him to join her. "Just come with me. Just for a few minutes."

There's a tree up in their modest living room. It's not real; they didn't know if they'd still be here, so it wasn't worth it to get one. They put lights on it and a cheap pack of ornaments, just enough to make it look decorated. They'd placed a couple presents for each other under it. Emma had added Luke's gifts when Mark went up to bed, and his face lit up when he saw them. She'd started a small pile for the elder twin as well, starting with a gift from her in return for his.

Emma watches Mark struggle to find something to say. It's the happiest she's seen him in days, and a warmth spreads through her chest at the sight of it. He finally turns to her with a wide smile.

"What are all these?"

"They're from Luke." Mark's eyes widen and Emma shrugs. "He told me where they were. Said you usually find them."

"I do but…" He runs a hand through his hair and it sticks up just a bit. "New house, all the changes, I just… I never thought about it. And I was so… frustrated about him leaving…"

"He did it on purpose." Mark raises an eyebrow. "At least… I think he did. I think he wanted to give us some time."

Mark tilted his head like a little puppy. "What do you mean?"

"Have you… have you noticed him watching us, at all?"

Mark's eyes flick to the tree, and his brow furrows as he thinks it over. The shadows on his face cast by the colored tree lights make him look older, slightly menacing. But they also show the strong line of his jaw and accentuate all the things she finds attractive about him. Finally, he nods, his eyes widening again in realization.

"I have, actually, yeah. Always with this weird look on… on his face…" Mark's voice fades away. "Oh." He sighs and bows his head, rubbing at his eyes. She hears him breathe Luke's name. She doesn't say anything, doesn't touch him in comfort. She just waits until he's ready to talk. "He wanted to give us time alone, because… because Giselle. Because he wants me to have what he lost. What I didn't have." He laughs. It sounds bitter. "That idiot. Why didn't he just… he's spending Christmas alone he didn't have to go alone." He finally looks at her. "How did you figure it out, it's not like you shared a womb with him or anything."

Emma laughs. "I just… if he were jealous he wouldn't have left us alone. And he said something about me being family now. It just seemed too… nice of him."

Mark snorts himself. "Yeah, it does, doesn't it?" He rubs his hands together, looking back at the gifts. "That's my brother… always looking out for me."

"And now…" Emma steps closer to him, smiling when he looks back at her. "Now you have me looking out for you, too."

Mark tilts his head. He studies her, his eyes roving over her face and form. He moves closer to her. He's less than a foot taller than she is, but it feels like more when it's only them and he's so close. There's a barely-there smile on his face; she manages to catch it.

"I do, yeah," he whispers. Emma starts slightly when his warm hand cups her jaw. She doesn't move away. She remembers a moment like this one, months ago in a converted stable, the same look of wonder on his boyish face. She knows what to do now, to get what they both want. His thumb brushes over her cheek, and she meets his blue eyes with a small smile of her own. He smiles wider. "And thank you, for that."

Mark leans in and kisses her very gently. Emma lets her eyes close, keeps her hands to herself. She can't initiate. She won't ruin another moment for him. For them. He deepens it, just slightly, and she responds in kind. It's still the most chaste kiss she's shared with someone in years. But she doesn't mind, not at all, considering who it's coming from.

He lingers just a moment before finally pulling away from her, a small smile on his face again. She lets out a small bubble of laughter, but doesn't move away from him.

"Well then…"

"Well then," he agrees. There's a pause, and they both laugh again. The silence that follows is comfortable. They've said and shown all they have to. At this point in time, anyway. Mark looks back at the tree, and Emma keeps watching him. She's… honestly, she's glad she's back to thinking he's this kind, adorable guy who is trying to make her happy. It's hard to think negatively of someone who embraced her after all she's done to him. But Joe's downward spiral and his continued desire for a women who did not want him made it easier.

Emma doesn't need Joe to survive or be happy. She can survive on her own, she's proven that. And now? Now she has Mark and Luke to keep her company and all the time in the world to find her own happiness. What more could she ask for?

She bends to pick up one of her presents for Mark and turns to him.

"So… wanna open one of these bad boys? You have my permission to do so before nine AM."

Mark laughs. He reaches out for it, then stops. Emma says nothing as he simply stares at the gift. His smile fades. She waits. She can guess why he's hesitating. There are only a few reasons why. But she waits, staying silent. Finally, he sighs, pulling his hand back with a shake of the head.

"No, I'm good. Could we maybe…" He meets her eyes, his expression becoming pleading. "Could we wait until Luke comes back? Make it as normal as we can?"

Emma gives him a teasing smile, but puts the present back on the pile. "Of course we can. I'm in no rush."

He surprises her and kisses her again, a bit sloppy with excitement and gratitude. When he pulls back, he looks aghast.

"Sorry, I mean—Thank you, Emma. I—Oh, shit…"

Emma laughs and shakes her head, walking past him to head back upstairs. "C'mon, kid. Let's get you back into bed. We'll sleep in for a bit but still get up early enough for you to make us breakfast."

"Sure thing, Emma."

They get tucked back into her bed. Emma wonders how long they'd share. Would it just be until Luke comes back? Or would Mark get comfortable enough to just… stay? She wouldn't mind. She's gotten used to having him there. To falling asleep to the sound of his light breathing. To waking when he rolls out of bed. To hearing someone tell her "goodnight" and "good morning" and mean it. She could let him stay there as long as he likes.

She curls up on her side, facing him. She watches him lie on his side to face her, and smiles at him as he shifts to get comfortable. He smiles back, shyly, despite the kissing he'd done downstairs and spending the last few nights in this same bed. She stifles a yawn.

"Well, good night, Mark. See you in the morning."

Emma closes her eyes. A warm hand tentatively envelopes hers, and she opens them again. Mark's taken her hand. His eyes search her face for any disapproval. Emma gives him none. She grins, moving her hand more between them, and Mark smiles as he laces his fingers with hers.

"Good night, Emma. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Mark."

He closes his eyes first, and she sees him truly relaxed and content for the first time in days. It's… comforting. It's not even close to how far she'd usually go with a boy in her bed. But it's okay. They can work on it. She's finally doing something right, something good. It certainly feels right and good, as well. She closes her own eyes, settling in for a few more hours sleep.

This is her life now: on the run, hiding out in the Paris with a twin who adores her and one who at least trusts her. She can do this. She can happily do this. She'll learn how to cook well, how to speak French, how to rely on people who have lived their lives relying on each other. To not need Joe.

And maybe, just maybe, she'll finally be truly happy. Thanks to this adorable boy, his stupid brother, and the second chance they gave her.

Merry Christmas, indeed.