Chapter 1: It's Beginning to Look a lot Like Christmas
It all began to appear at the end of November, as far as Killian could tell. Last Thursday, Swan had invited him to join her and her family for the celebration of something called "Thanksgiving," a holiday, as best he could tell, which consisted of gorging oneself on exorbitant amounts of food and then watching a sporting event called "football."
The next day, the entire feel and tenor of Storybrooke changed in an instant—brightly colored lights adorning every conceivable surface, evergreen wreaths twined with ribbons, gracing doors and walls, portraits and figurines of a rather portly man with a long white beard and a red coat wherever one looked. Most mystifying of all, the fairies, who Regina had managed to free from the sorcerer's hat, had erected a replica of a stable in which a woman, several men, cows, horses and a donkey knelt before a tiny baby lying in what looked like a manger.
Even the music that blared from every shop and eating establishment had changed. It appeared a holiday entitled "Christmas" was fast approaching. Judging by the songs of the season, Christmas involved a jolly man who drove a sleigh pulled by flying reindeer (one of which had a red, glowing nose), a deity who came to earth as an infant born of a virgin, families and loved ones spending time together, peace and goodwill among all, and gift giving.
It was utterly bewildering.
Killian sat in his booth in the diner, sipping his coffee and waiting for Swan's lad to join him for breakfast when the most perplexing sight of all met his eyes.
The bell above the door chimed, and Killian's eyes widened as he watched a very bad-tempered Leroy step inside dragging a gigantic fir tree behind him. A generous coat of snow covered the dwarf from head to foot and fell from the tree in clumps.
"Leroy!" Granny bellowed. "You're tracking snow all over my diner. What do you think you're doing?"
"Sorry, sister," Leroy muttered in a voice which proved he was anything but. "You asked me to bring you a Christmas tree, and a Christmas tree I brought. Ain't my fault Mother Nature chose today to dump on us."
"You couldn't have shaken the damn thing off before you came in?" Granny continued, her hands planted on her generous hips.
Leroy glared. "Look, you don't like the way I do the job you gave me? Do it yourself."
Granny rolled her eyes, and then threw up her hands. "Fine, just put it in the corner, get it decorated and stop blocking my doorway."
Christmas involved bringing trees indoors and decorating them? What an odd custom.
Leroy grumbled under his breath as he hoisted the massive fir onto his shoulder and crept laboriously toward the corner Granny indicated. He fought with the tree for some time, cursing under his breath as he tried…and failed…to hold it steady while simultaneously securing it in the stand Granny had placed in the far corner.
"Hey pirate!" Leroy called from beneath the tree's boughs. "I could use a hand or two."
Killian grinned, set his coffee back upon the table and got to his feet. "Alas, dwarf, I have but one to lend."
Leroy emerged from the tree and fixed a surly scowl on Killian. "Not in the mood for jokes. Just get your leather clad ass over here!"
Killian sketched a mocking bow and ambled in the dwarf's direction. "As you've deigned to ask so politely, I'm at your service. What precisely do you need of me?"
"Just hold the damn thing steady while I get it screwed in."
Killian complied, holding the tree still, while Leroy tightened screws fastening the trunk into a stand of sorts.
"Now, next job: untangle the lights and string them on the tree," Leroy commanded.
"Er…" Killian said, scratching behind his ear, "what the bloody hell does that mean?"
Leroy glared for a moment before rolling his eyes. "Don't you know anything about Christmas? Grab that string of lights over there, untangle it, and wrap it around the tree."
The bell over the door chimed once more, and Killian looked up to see Henry, rosy cheeked from the cold and bundled within an inch of his life, walk in. Mentally heaving a sigh of relief, he turned to Leroy. "Sorry, mate," he said, "I've plans to dine with Swan's lad. I'm afraid you'll have to find someone else to assist you."
Leroy continued to mutter as Killian made his way back to his booth, but otherwise, mercifully, kept his opinions to himself.
"Hey Killian!" Henry called as he peeled off his hat, scarf, gloves and coat and plopped down in the booth.
"Good morning lad," Killian greeted with an affectionate ruffle of the boy's hair, "how are you this frigid morning?"
"Starving," Henry said, grabbing a menu. "I could eat an elephant."
Killian laughed. Such was the lot of a pre-teen boy. Swan had complained just last night that her lad was eating her out of house and home. "I've yet to see elephant on Granny's menu. Suppose we settle for pancakes and bacon?"
"Sounds good to me."
Killian flagged down Ruby, who appeared with the lad's usual hot cocoa with cinnamon. He placed their orders, and then sat back in his seat, watching with amusement as Henry swiped a generous dollop of cream from the top of his beverage with one finger and then happily licked it clean.
"So why'd you ask me to have breakfast with you?" Henry asked after taking his first sip and sighing with contentment.
Killian grinned. "Does a man need a reason to ask his mate to dine with him?"
"Well, no," Henry said, "but when you called last night, you said you had things you wanted to discuss."
"True enough," Killian remarked after taking another swig of his coffee. "As the days pass, it becomes increasingly evident to me that I need to ascertain just what this 'Christmas' holiday entails. I asked you mum about it, but she seemed unwilling to discuss the matter."
A shadow passed across the lads face. Killian watched him closely.
"Yeah," Henry said, uncomfortably, "she doesn't seem to want to have anything to do with Christmas. I was hoping now that she's gotten settled in her new apartment, she'd let me help her decorate, but she doesn't want to put up a tree or stockings or make cookies or anything."
"These are traditions of the holiday?"
"Yeah, and Mom wouldn't even discuss any of it," Henry took another sip and frowned. "It was kind of like that last year too. She finally put up a tree for me, but she really didn't want to."
"And it's important to you to observe these traditions?" Killian asked carefully, trying to assess the root of the lad's obvious unhappiness.
Henry shrugged. "Yeah, but, I mean, it's not that. My other mom is doing all the Christmas stuff and so are Grandma and Grandpa. It's just that I'm worried about Mom. It doesn't seem like she's just being a Grinch or something; Christmas seems to really upset her."
What precisely was a "Grinch?" No matter. The import of the lad's words was clear enough. "Would you like me to talk to you mum?"
"I was hoping you would," Henry admitted. "If anyone can make her feel better it's you."
Killian grinned. "It would be my pleasure, Henry. I've plans to meet your mother for lunch. I'll broach the subject then."
"Thanks, I'm really glad she has you." Henry looked away uncomfortably. "Look, Killian, about what I said back when the Shattered Sight spell hit…"
Killian waved the lad's words away with a negligent move of his hook. "Don't concern yourself mate. You were cursed; I'd hardly take your words to heart."
"Still," Henry said, "I just, you know, wanted you to know that I didn't mean it. I do like you, and, well, I like how happy you make my mom. I never saw her this happy, even when she was just about engaged to Walsh."
Killian clapped Henry on the shoulder. "It's mutual lad. I enjoy the time we spend together, and I love your mother more than life itself. I must say it's heartening to hear that I make her happier than a charlatan in simian form."
The wolf girl returned with two steaming plates of pancakes. Killian grinned in amusement as he watched Henry tuck into his breakfast with the gusto of one who hadn't eaten in a week. When the lad's worst pangs of hunger were apparently sated, Killian returned to the subject at hand.
"Now, to return to the original topic of this discussion. I was content to merely watch the town's dealings with regard to Christmas until I received your grandmother's invitation to the town Christmas party. Now I find it incumbent upon myself to learn what is expected of me with regard to this holiday. For example, what precisely does a 'dirty Santa gift exchange' entail?"
Mary Margaret, as the current mayor of Storybrooke, had evidently decided that the best way to foster town unity and holiday spirit was to throw a party upon the occasion of Christmas. It was to be held on the eve of Christmas itself, and Swan's mum had assured him that it would be an evening filled with joy and laughter. She'd further assured him that he was free to spike his cup of eggnog with as much rum as he pleased.
"It's awesome," Henry said around a mouthful of bacon. "It's kind of like a gift exchange and a game all wrapped up together. Everybody brings a wrapped present, and then…"
The lad went on to describe a game worthy of a pirate—full of theft, strategy and the winning of loot.
"So, it would seem gift giving is an important part of this holiday?" Killian asked.
"Yeah," Henry said, drawing out the syllable. "It's not, like, the most important part of Christmas, but people like to give each other gifts at this time of year. It's a way to show people that you care about them."
"Aye," Killian said, nodding his head, "but that leads me to my next question. What precisely is a man expected to give to the woman he loves? I've heard multiple renditions of a song which seems to provide a roadmap, but I find it difficult to believe that Swan would wish me to gift her with drummers and pipers and lords and dancers and multiple aviary creatures. And what use could she possibly have for eight maids a-milking?"
Henry chuckled. "That's just a song; no one actually gives their true love that kind of stuff! But can I be there if you decide to give my mom eleven pipers piping? Please?"
Killian took a bite of his breakfast and grinned. "I think I'll avoid that particular spectacle. I must say, I'm much relieved. I hadn't a clue where I was to find ten lords a-leaping. If that quite motley list is not an example of the proper Christmas gifts for a man to give his true love, what is?"
Henry shrugged. "Nothing in particular, I don't think. Just give her something heartfelt—something that shows her how you feel about her."
"That, I believe I can manage."
Henry shook his head in evident disgust. "I'm sure you can. You and mom are so sappy together it's kind of sickening."
Killian ruffled the lad's hair again. "Just wait, Henry. Your day will come. One day you'll find true love, and then you'll be as 'sappy' as anyone."
"Maybe," Henry said skeptically. "So is that all you wanted to know?"
"I have but one more question to ask," Killian said, dragging his last bite of pancake through his remaining syrup. He took his bite, chewed thoughtfully, and then looked at the lad. "It seems mistletoe is quite important given its prominence in the music I've heard during the past week. To my knowledge, it's nothing but a weed, something of a nuisance. Might I inquire what its purpose is during Christmastime?"
Henry groaned, and then buried his face within his hands. "I'll tell you, but you have to promise you'll never use it with mom when I'm around."
Notes: Merry Christmas! This is the first installment of a Christmas related 3-shot written for this-too-too-sullied-flesh during the Tumbler cs secret Santa event this year. As I eagerly await the colder weather the weatherman tells me we MIGHT get come Christmas Eve, I find myself in the Christmas spirit, so consider this my Christmas gift to not only this-too-too-sullied-flesh, but to all my loyal readers and followers!
-Killian is having a great deal of difficulty figuring out all these strange Christmas customs in Storybrooke, but luckily Henry's around to set him straight!
-Up next, Killian takes Emma to lunch (and for a walk in the snowy woods), and gets to the bottom of just why she's so resistant to anything related to Christmas. In true Killian fashion, he helps lift her spirits and get over some wounds from her past.