Setups, Snowballs, and Secluded Hearts

by Ilovemesomekillianjones

Killian Jones and Emma Swan are roommates, friends, and... well that's the problem. They both want more, but with neither one taking that leap of faith, they are at an impasse. Can a holiday weekend away help two friends discover the mutual love they've been hiding? For amagicalship for Gutter Flower Secret Santa 2016. Thak you Sandra70 for beta-ing this monster!

"Please don't do this to me, you wanker!" Killian groused into the phone. He ran his hand through his hair as his brain started working a mile a minute.

"It can't be helped, little brother," Liam answered.

"It's younger brother, and why not?"

"Elsa's younger sister, Anna, and her fiancé flew in unexpectedly. They want to spend the holiday here."

"Oi! Anna gets to be younger sister, but I'm still little brother? I can't believe you are bailing as we are getting ready to leave. I'll just tell Emma we aren't going," he decided.

"Nonsense, quit being so dramatic. You two go and enjoy yourselves. Elsa insists. We were up just Sunday, we decorated, and she really did a beautiful job on the tree. We brought all the groceries for this weekend, so the refrigerator is stocked, the-"

"Alright, fine, we'll go," Killian acquiesced.

"Excellent! Besides, you two are roommates, so what would be the big deal about us not going?" Liam needled.

"I was rather fond of the idea of spending the holiday with family too," Killian answered feebly, nervously scratching behind his ear, as he tended to do when unnerved.

"You're so transparent, if you'd man up and do something about your situation, you'd be much happier," Liam scolded.

"Shut up," Killian retorted petulantly. He had nothing else he could say to that, because Liam was absolutely right.

"And Killian, she is family, you duffer. She has been for quite awhile."

"Goodbye Liam," Killian bid, effectively curtailing the conversation before it could get too deep.

"Happy Christmas to you and Emma," Liam returned, "and Killian? This has opportunity written all over it, try not to muck it up."

"Happy Christmas to you and Elsa as well," Killian grumbled, "thanks for the pep talk."

Hanging up his cell, and tossing it on the table, he plopped down into the recliner, and leaned his head back against the cushion. Trepidation started to creep in, he just knew this was going to be a disaster. It was going to be hard enough to spend the holiday weekend with Emma Swan, even when Liam and Elsa were still planning on joining them. Sure they were roommates, but their schedules made it so they weren't together every minute of the day. Not having his brother and sister-in-law, or work, or anything there as buffers was going to make this trip infinitely harder.

He couldn't quite pin down when it had happened; it wasn't a BAM! in your face moment, but Killian Jones was as in love as one could be with his perfect roommate. She was beautiful, so of course there was the physical attraction, but this was more than lust. He'd tried to ignore it, tried to put it in a box, tried to replace it, nothing had worked. There was something about Emma Swan intrinsically tethered to his heart.

Emma had shown up one evening, telling her brother David that she needed a place to crash. That was a year ago. She came in like a storm, flipping everything upside down in her path. Killian, who was David's roommate at the time, had never lived in close quarters with a woman, especially one like Emma, who was the polar opposite of him and David. Not that Killian minded, he actually found it refreshing. She wouldn't know the meaning of ship shape if it hit her in the face. As he and David had met during their time in the Navy, they were both your consummate squared away sailors. Each had done their time, taken advantage of the GI bill, and moved on to the civilian workforce as officers of the law. She was definitely a take out and order in kind of girl, while he prefered to cook. When she did attempt to cook, it was usually a mess, or tasted like shite. He didn't mind that either though. There was something satisfying about being able to take care of someone that way. He folded his laundry when it was done, she left hers in the basket clean, until she was ready to wear it again. Killian was cap on the toothpaste, Emma was cap, what cap?

Despite being different, they had found common interests and grown together from there. It was a relief to have Emma around when David's girlfriend Mary Margaret was over, and the pair were being disgusting. He and Emma had bonded over hating on disgustingly sappy couples, failed relationships - one of which had led her to her brother's doorstep that first night, and a love for all things Netflix.

A little less than half a year later David was announcing that he'd proposed to Mary Margaret and was moving out. Killian couldn't fault him that, he was happy for his mate. He was however a little unhappy at having to find a new place to live. That's when Emma had spoken up, saying that she had no intention of moving out of the lovely apartment that had belonged to David's mom for years. She told Killian there was no need for him to move out, they could afford the apartment without David. At the time he'd thought the rush of emotion he felt was relief, he couldn't have been more wrong.

They fell into an easy routine. Emma always made sure Killian knew her work schedule, especially if she was going to be staking a bail jumper all night. Killian always made sure that Emma had enough food to eat, even when he was on duty. They knew what nights they'd be having dinner together, and what nights they wouldn't. They did laundry together, grocery shopped together, and even jogged together when their schedule's permitted. They always made time for Netflix, both having an affinity for lesser known movies. Some of Emma's less than stellar habits started to dissipate, courtesy of living with Killian Jones.

One night as they sat watching a most depressing film, he'd seen tears rolling down Emma's cheek and had the overwhelming urge to pull her close and kiss them away. His heart slammed in his chest as soon as he'd formed the thought, and he'd silently handed her the kleenex box instead. He felt that little bit of dizziness you experience when you realize something that you're not quite ready to realize just yet. It had been an eye-opening moment, because although that was the dawn of realization, when he lay sleepless in bed that night, he found himself wondering just how long he'd desired more than friendship with Emma.

"Earth to Killian!"

Before he had a moment more to reflect on all things Swan, her voice broke him from his recollective state. He looked at her, still processing the fact that he'd be spending a weekend alone, in a secluded cabin, in the snowy mountains, with just her. She stood in before him wearing her customary skinny jeans, black boots, along with a cream colored, form-fitting cashmere sweater, and matching beanie. She balanced her black jacket, scarf, and mittens on one arm, and her weekender in the other. She looked as gorgeous as she always did, the way her clothes clung to her every curve did nothing to quell his nerves, yes, not having the typical buffers was going to make this trip infinitely harder. He was so screwed.

"Just doing a mental check that we've got everything we need for the weekend," he covered. Actually, that wouldn't hurt, he thought.

"I'm all packed and ready," she beamed, "if we leave now we'll be there by noon."

"I'm afraid I've a bit of bad news, lass," Killian started.

Emma's heart sank, she'd been looking forward to this small weekend away for months. "What is it?" she questioned in a small voice. Killian scratched nervously behind his ear, one of her favorite tells that he was nervous, or unsure of himself. Rare were those moments that this man was unsure of anything.

"Well...it seems Elsa's sister, Anna, and her fiancé, came into town unexpectedly, so she and Liam won't be able to join us," he told her quickly, trying to gauge all the reactions that crossed her face.

Emma's face fell in disappointment, did this mean they weren't going? Wait, she thought. Would he want to go with just her? Could she handle a weekend with just Killian Jones? Maybe a weekend with Killian was exactly what she needed to kick her ass into gear. She was going to be massively bummed if he didn't want to go, but at the same time she was highly nervous to go with just him. How was she supposed to conceal all these feelings she had, for a whole weekend? What if he didn't even want to go now? Good lord, I'm rambling in my own mind, she thought.

"Do you want-"

"Should we still-"

They both started at the same time.

"Go ahead, love."

Emma's heart did that little jump at the term of endearment. She knew it was probably the same as him calling David 'mate', but she couldn't help feeling giddy when he called her 'love'.

"Do you want to go still?" she asked feebly, a cold fear gripping her at the thought that he might just say 'no'.

"Do you still want to go?" he questioned back.

"I asked first," Emma huffed, sounding dangerously like a little girl who was being threatened with not getting what she wants.

"I want to go, if you want to go," he sidestepped, not wanting to be the one to make the actual decision.

Emma rolled her eyes, "Well, I want to go then."

She wants to go, he thought, excitedly. He hadn't realized just how disappointed he'd have been if she said no. Regardless of his nerves, he wanted to spend the holidays with her, even if his brother couldn't make it. Killian looked at the fiery little devil in front of him, hands on her hips, looking at him expectantly. Was that a bit of hope he spied in her eyes?

"Well then, what are we waiting for, let's load up the truck," he suggested.

"I wanted to drive," she complained.

"Swan, you know where we're going, right? How do you expect that little rust bucket to make it through the snow, and up the mountain?" he spoke exasperatedly.

"Hey! Name calling isn't necessary," she scolded. "I just prefer driving that's all, I wasn't thinking about the drive itself."

"Fine, would you like to drive my truck?" Killian asked, dangling the keys in front of her face.

"Yes!" Emma exclaimed, snatching the keys with a goofy smile plastered on her face. She couldn't come across any more excited if she were jumping up and down.

Killian chuckled at her reaction. He couldn't stop the errant thoughts about how cute she looked, and how he'd like to pull her to him and hold her tight.

They loaded up the back bench seat of the king cab. Emma did love Killian's truck. It was totally his style, she thought, black, rugged, beautiful as the day he bought it. She blushed, god I'm like a teen with a crush, she berated herself.

"Let's stop at the gas station first," Killian said.

"Why? The tank is full," she replied.

"Might I get a drink for the road?" he inquired.

Emma laughed, "Okay, I guess that's allowable, but you're putting us behind schedule, Jones."

She sat in the truck waiting for him to re-emerge from the little store, when he did he had a bag, and two cups.

Getting into the passenger seat, Killian handed her a steaming hot beverage, "Your hot chocolate with cinnamon, milady."

"They had cinnamon at the gas station?" Emma remarked skeptically.

"No," Killian laughed, "I brought the cinnamon from home."

Internally she swooned at his thoughtfulness, outwardly she smiled and stated, "Well, you're nothing if not prepared." She hoped she'd successfully covered up her pesky feelings that had threatened to spill over multiple times in the last several months. As they drove further out of the city into the Southern Taconic mountain range, Emma became engrossed in memories of what led her to this moment.

Entering her eleventh school as a freshman, Emma had long given up hope of finding a real home. She'd been with families who were pretty decent, and families who were not, group homes, abusive homes, and homes where no one gave a damn about her. She didn't even attempt to make friends anymore. However, Mary Margaret's tenacity had won out, and she'd quickly fallen in with the short brunette and her best friend David, amongst several others. Ever the astute "adults" of the young group, David and Mary Margaret had realized that Emma was either not being taken care of properly, or she was living on the streets. They'd made the case to David's mom that Emma needed their help. With a little research, a ton of stubbornness on Emma's part, and lots of paperwork, Emma was living in the Nolan home. She was accepted and treated as if she'd been there since the day she was born. She'd been able to go to one school for her whole high school experience, she'd gotten accepted to college on a track scholarship.

After college she'd moved to New York with a boy she'd met, against everyone's advice. She'd gotten hired on with NYPD. During those years she'd been in and out of touch with her family. She knew that David had joined the Navy, Mary Margaret was a school teacher, and they were now dating each other, which wasn't a shock, it had only been a matter of time. Ruth was still living in the same house, the only house that Emma was ever able to call home. She'd felt like an orphan all over again being away from them. The boy she'd gone to New York with was long since gone, she'd dated here and there, but nothing serious. Nothing and no one ever felt right.

Then another man came along, all smooth talk, and smiles, how she wishes she'd taken a hard pass on that one. He'd gotten her in trouble with her department, kicked out of her apartment, and left alone once again. These things tended to happen though, when your boyfriend was found in possession of enough stolen artwork to cover the cost of a small island. A little digging by her ex-partner, who knew her to be innocent of any wrong doing, found that David had gotten out of the service and was back in Boston. With an address in hand, her yellow bug, one suitcase and duffel bag full of her necessities, and the money left in her account, she took off and didn't look back.

It was rare that Emma Swan broke down, being in the system from birth, she'd learned to never let her weakness show. But on that drive she'd finally let herself cry at the current state of her life. She was letting down the family that she owed so much to, she'd been letting them down since she left for New York. So showing up on her brother's doorstep, 10 years after he'd helped her the first time, needing a place to stay once again had been a huge blow to her ego.

When she showed up at David's she knew she looked like a wreck, eyes puffy, nose red, a disheveled hot mess. Of course, David had just hugged her and welcomed her in, and Mary Margaret had been there in an instant. That had been a year ago.

She'd met David's hot roommate the very next day. His physical attractiveness had affected Emma right away. He'd be the perfect scratcher to scratch her itch, but she knew better than to mess with the balance of their current living arrangements. Still, there had been many a night where she'd imagined and even dreamt things about Killian Jones. Over the course of the year she got to know him better. She got to know Killian in a way that she didn't know most people, a way that she wasn't accustomed to. They became emotionally intimate, they had common interests, they got along famously, watching Netflix and sharing stories was one of her favorite pastimes with him. She was pretty sure her chaotic disorganization, and less than stellar cleaning habits drove him nuts, but he was kind enough to not say anything. In time, she found some of her habits gravitating toward his, and since his habits were being organized and maintaining a clean living space, there could be worse things for her to gravitate toward. She noticed his proud little smiles when she'd immediately fold a load of her laundry as opposed to throwing it on her bed still in the basket, or rinse out a dish instead of letting the food dry on it all day.

She'd wanted him from the beginning, but somewhere along the way Emma had really fallen for Killian, and couldn't imagine a life without him. Her fear of ruining the relationship they had now, was what had kept her from telling him how she felt. Maybe this holiday away, with just him will bring a romantic Christmas miracle, she thought, snorting aloud at the ridiculously cheesy thought.

"What is it, Swan," Killian inquired.

Emma jumped at the sound of his voice, she'd been so lost in thought she'd forgotten she wasn't alone. "Oh, nothing," she eschewed.

"Nothing my arse, you've been sitting over there deep in thought, for over an hour. You've had smiles on your face, frowns, fear, anger, even sadness and disappointment. What's got you in such a pensive state?" he asked, not letting her get off that easily.

"Just thinking back on the past year, and how much my life has changed," she said nonchalantly.

"And just how has your life changed, love?"

"I'm living close to my family, I love my job, I love our apartment, I love..." she trailed off.

Killian's ears perked up, waiting for her to continue, when she trailed off, "Do tell, what else do you love," he prompted.

"Hold on, I think our exit is coming up."

"Ah yes, of course it is," he pouted internally.

"Tell me where to go once we're off the freeway."

"Aye love, I'll navigate us there safely," he chuckled.

An hour later they found themselves slowly traversing the last of the mountainous road as they pulled up to the remote cabin.

"It's more beautiful than I remember," Emma sighed, "I'm so happy to be up here with-" Shit Emma, shutup! "With ummm, all the snow and...stuff."

Killian's head had jerked toward Emma when he heard her, he was certain she was going to say with him, alas she'd been talking about their surroundings. This was going to be rough, especially if he kept trying to see something, where there was nothing.

Emma had been about to blurt out how happy she was to be up there with him, she'd need to watch herself. Something about the holiday season always brings out her sentimentality.

They quickly unloaded their belongings throwing everything inside the door to the cabin. Kicking the snow off their boots, they entered the cabin and looked around. It really was a sight, Elsa had outdone herself. The tree was in the corner, adorned with colorful ornaments, white lights, and garland. The fireplace was stocked with wood, and the mantle had four stockings hung, one with each of their names, and already half full. There were stuffed snowmen, wooden snowmen, light up snowmen, and glass snowmen arranged throughout the place, Elsa's favorite Christmas decoration. The big fluffy couch, the Jones Brother's movie compilation to rival any collector, and the obnoxiously huge t.v., called to Emma's inner couch potato, she planned to veg, at least a little.

"Let me get a fire going, it's positively frigid in here," he offered.

"Okay, I'll turn on the heater and take the bags to the rooms," she said, reaching down to grab them.

"I've got the bags, Emma," he argued, reaching to take them from her.

"Uh, am I incapable of handling my luggage, did I miss something?" she deadpanned.

"Just trying to be a gentleman," he quipped.

"Since when?" she teased.

Cocking his eyebrow, he reached out and tickled Emma's sides causing her to giggle like crazy, and drop the bags.

"I'm always a gentleman," he smirked. Throwing her a casual wink, he picked up their bags before she could recover.

Emma rolled her eyes and stared after him as he took the bags to the rooms. "Oh hey, now you don't have to sleep on the couch, since we'll each get a room!"

He turned to look at her through mischievous blue eyes, "Who says I was the one sleeping on the couch?"

Her mouth dropped open, "Gentleman my ass, you're a pirate!"

Killian laughed at her accusation, he was feeling intoxicatingly joyous. Perhaps the holidays, or his hopes for the weekend, or maybe he was losing his shit. His inner flirt was having a hard time staying chill though. This was the banter they used to have, prior to him getting all awkward after realizing he had feely feelings for her.

"I'd have sooner jumped in your bed, than sleep on the couch like a dog," he proclaimed, head cocked to the side, daring her to dispute his assertion.

"Please, you couldn't handle it," she challenged.

"Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it," he replied in a gravelly tone, knowing she'd never back down, if the ball was left in her court.

"Prove it," she volleyed back.

Her eyes shined bright, with what, he wasn't sure. He stepped back in her direction, "As you wi-" He was rudely cut off by Emma's phone.

Still staring at him, it took her a moment to realize her phone was ringing, she snapped out of her daze, and reached into her pocket to answer. "Hello," her greeting rushed out with the breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "Oh, hi Elsa." She looked back to Killian when she heard him muttering something as he took the bags to the rooms.

"Bloody hell," he cursed, would he not catch a break? Maybe it was a sign he shouldn't say anything. He set Emma's weekend bag on her neatly made bed, he'd give her the master bedroom with the en suite bathroom, being the gentleman that he was, then continued to his room, pausing to turn on the heater. I'd bet money Emma was flirting right back, he thought, as he sat on his bed. He laid back, hands behind his head, wanting to think for a moment while Emma was preoccupied on the phone. A pros and cons list had always helped.

Reaching for a pillow, he went to put it under his head and realized there was no case on it. Rolling his eyes, he went to the closet to pull out the bed linens. He didn't see any, so he went to check the closet in Emma's room, again nothing. Walking to the hall closet he called out to Emma, "Swan, ask Elsa where the other bed linens are." He dug around in the closet, but only found bath towels. "Bollocks," he mumbled under his breath. What were they supposed to do with one set of sheets and one electric blanket?

"Elsa said to check the closets," Emma called back.

"Wonderful idea, because I hadn't done that already."

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he headed back to his room, and waited impatiently for his brother to pick up his phone.

"Hello, Little Brother."

"What the bloody fuck am I supposed to do with linens enough for one bed?" Killian whisper yelled into the phone.

"What was that, I can't hear you."

"You bloody well heard me old man. Tell me there are other linens around this place."

"Well, if you hadn't rudely cut me off on the phone earlier, I was going to tell you the linens still needed to be brought up for the other bed, and couch, as only one bed is made," he spoke in a calm voice, as if there was no issue. "Although, it seems you know that now, and are promptly having a hissy fit," Liam chuckled.

"How am I supposed to sleep next to her?" he panicked. He could control his thoughts and feelings. But the body's natural response to what it wants, how was he supposed to control that? This was going to be painfully hard.

"Maybe tell her how you feel, then share a bed like normal adults, who are in love, do," Liam suggested, as if it was obvious.

"Thank you, Liam, you've helped immensely," Killian hissed.

"Well, that's what brothers are for!" Liam answered jovially.

Rolling his eyes, and running a hand through his, always tousled to perfection hair, he hung up the phone.

Liam looked to Elsa, who'd just hung up her phone as well, "If this doesn't work, I don't know what will," he sighed.

"It's going to work," his ever positive wife insisted. "They love each other."

"Yeah, they love each other, and they're too stupid to see it, or too stubborn to admit it, or whatever afflicts those two and their love lives," he rambled.

Liam wanted to see his younger brother happy. Killian had been a perpetual bachelor, hyper focused on his career, and while Killian Jones had made detective faster than anyone in his unit, his love life had been pushed to the back burner. Emma Swan was the best thing to happen to Killian, she'd been a refreshing breeze, and his brother had seemed happier from the day she entered his life.

"He's only 26, Liam, he won't end up an old maid I promise," Elsa giggled at her husband's worrying ways.

"You're right, I forget sometimes that he is a solid decade younger than I. But still, with all the writing on the wall, I'm baffled they're successful as a detective and a bounty hunter."

Killian walked into the kitchen to see Emma bent over, perusing the refrigerator. Leaning against the counter, he decided now was not the time to tell Emma about the sleeping arrangement situation. "Anything good?" he asked, eyeing her backside.

"Yeah, Elsa called to say they brought up all the ingredients for a stew," she answered. Turning around, she was going to ask if he'd like a sandwich for lunch, but lost her train of thought when she caught him ogling her ass, "Gentleman, indeed," she laughed.

"Even gentlemen appreciate a good view, lass," he smirked. Trying for suave, he could still feel the tips of his ears, knew they were going pink.

She stood up and faced him, taking a step closer. "Are you blushing, Jones?"

"No," he insisted, "the heater has kicked on, I'm getting a little warm is all." He drove his point home by removing his jacket.

Of course he was wearing one of his ridiculous button ups, that he didn't button up, the ones that showed off his thick chest hair. How she'd imagined running her hands along that chest, and what it might feel like brushing against her-

"Now who's blushing," he interrupted her fantasy.

"Uh, you're right, it is getting hot in here," she agreed. "How about I make us grilled cheese for lunch, and you throw the stew together in the crockpot?"

"Aye-aye Captain Swan," he jested. "You are a bossy little thing today," he started. "All 'I want to go'," he continued his teasing, affecting his best Emma impression, "'Let's leave now', 'I want to drive', 'Tell me where to-"

Whack!

"Oi! That hurt, wench," he held the back of his head, where Emma had just smacked him a la Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

"There's more where that came from if you don't watch it, Pirate," she threatened.

"I like it rough, so," he raised an eyebrow at her, and ran is tongue along his bottom lip, "bring it on."

"Oh my gosh, you are a depraved soul, Jones."

"You've no idea, love," he winked again.

Emma secretly loved his flirty side, no matter how much she fought him. She hadn't seen this side of him in awhile, she found herself elated that it was back.

They turned on the stereo and found a holiday station to listen to while they worked in the kitchen. Emma excelled at grilled cheese, if she did say so herself. She plated their sandwiches, grabbed some chips and headed out to the couch. She returned to the kitchen to grab a couple bottled waters just as Killian had finished with the stew, and was washing his hands. "Ready to eat?" she asked.

He turned around, drying his hands on a kitchen towel, then casually slung it over his shoulder. "In a moment, but first," he stepped into her space and pulled her close. He stared into her eyes for just a moment before they were off, spinning around the small kitchen to the Irish holiday tune of 'Fairytale in New York'.

"Killian, I don't dance," she laughed.

"Sure you do, this is called a waltz, and there is only one rule. Pick a partner who knows what he's doing," he murmured into her ear. He pulled back to look at her again as they continued around the kitchen.

Emma looked into his eyes, as he gracefully carried them through the steps. For a moment she was certain he might kiss her, and then of course the song ended. Or rather was interrupted by an emergency alert.

They broke apart, the moment having been successfully squashed as the humming and beeping of the emergency alert filled the room. They listened intently as the staticky voice alerted them to a blizzard warning in effect from now until 6:00 p.m. A winter storm warning was also issued beginning at 3:00 p.m., the whole of the north eastern coast would endure the storm.

"It's going to be a wicked one, lass, sure we can weather the storm? If we leave now we might beat it."

"Might? What do you mean might?" Emma asked anxiously.

"Well, it's a quarter after one now, it'll take us about five hours back, accounting for all the traffic caused by idiots that are going to be out on the road trying to beat the storm as well. We could beat it, depending on what time it hits."

"Okay, well, I for one don't want to be one of those idiots. I'd rather endure in the safety of this cabin, with food, and a bathroom, and t.v.," she answered.

Killian raised his hands in supplication, "I concur, I just wanted to make sure we're on the same page."

"Before we eat, let's make sure we have enough wood to last us through the night," she proposed.

He smirked, waggling his eyebrows.

"Don't even!" she warned him before he could turn her words into filth.

I've enough wood for sure, was his first thought. "I was merely going to say, let me take care of that… however, should we run out, I'm more than willing to offer my body heat to keep you warm, milady" he offered gallantly.

Aaaand there it is. "My hero," she replied, trying to conceal the blush his innuendo was surely causing.

"I can be your hero, baby," he burst out into song.

Emma just rolled her eyes, while begrudgingly noting that the man could sing. "Let me guess, you will kiss away my pain," she deadpanned.

"I will stand by you forever," he continued belting out the Enrique Iglesias tune.

"And I suppose I take your breath away," she spoke, feigning disinterest, before bursting into giggles at his antics.

That you do, he internalized. Smiling broadly at her he turned, and headed for the door to grab more firewood from the porch.

He restocked enough that they wouldn't need to venture outside until the following day, then joined Emma who was looking through the movies.

"What do you want to watch? Drama, comedy, action, romance?" she asked

"You pick, I'm up for anything."

"Chick flick it is," she shrugged, glancing at him to give him one last chance to protest.

Instead he looked right back at her, "You say that as though it is a bad thing? I can appreciate any type of film so long as it is well made."

"10 Things I Hate About You."

"Please, you wouldn't be able to find half that many," he boasted.

"I meant the movie! A little full of yourself, there?" she laughed.

"I'm merely stating a fact, Swan," he continued confidently.

"Oh my gosh," she rolled her eyes, "just go eat, I'll start the movie."

Eating their lunch, they sat and enjoyed the movie. When it was over they selected another and got comfy. Emma caught herself dozing shortly, "Sorry," she mumbled through a yawn, "this weather, and the fire make me want to relax."

She looked so cute when she was sleepy, "Lay down then, love," he offered. Putting a pillow over his lap, he patted it, inviting her to spread out.

"Thanks," she murmured. Laying her head down on the pillow, she was out in minutes. The last thing she remembered was Killian's hand gently running the length of her arm.

The next thing she knew Killian was massaging her shoulder, it felt deliciously soothing, not only because it was relieving some of the tension that had been building in her since the drive up, but also because it was him. She felt the heavy sigh leave her body, "That feels good," she mumbled.

"Would you like me to get the other side as well, love," he offered.

She nodded her head, and let him help her into a sitting position. She sat on the floor in front of the couch, with Killian behind her. She groaned again when she felt his hands start to work her shoulders. She could feel the stress dissipating as she let her head slump forward.

"Swan, you're killing me with those sinful noises," he warned.

She grinned at that, even though she knew he couldn't see it. "What noises," she asked innocently.

"You know exactly what noises," he growled, his mouth suddenly hot on her ear.

A hot flash coursed through her body, followed by a shiver. His close proximity made her hyper aware of her body's reaction. Pull yourself together, she pleaded internally. But she couldn't fight the pull, the call to lean into his body, she turned her head to find herself nose to nose with Killian Jones. She could see the desire in his eyes, or was that just reflected from her own eyes? She nodded her head infinitesimally, acknowledging that she was wanting as well, and he dove in to pull her bottom lip into his mouth. Emma turned around and climbed into his lap, then surged forward to continue their kiss. It was a frenzy of lips, teeth, tongues, a kiss that exuded the longing she'd felt for so long now. Wrapping her hands up and around his neck, she carded her fingers through his dark hair. "God, you have no idea how long I've wanted this," she panted in between kisses.

"Perhaps as long as I've wanted you," he uttered.

Her heart pounded fiercely at his words. Did he feel as she did, could it be that easy? She jumped when she felt his hands against her bare skin. He'd slipped them just underneath her sweater, gripping her lean torso. She felt that jolt of pleasure as his hands slowly ascended her ribs, until they rested right below her breast. "Killian," she whispered.

"Emma… Emma, wake up lass."

Emma shot up at those words, "Oww!" she shouted when her forehead collided with his chiseled chin, where he was looking over her. "Son of a bitch," she cried, holding her forehead.

"Fuck," he muttered, touching his bottom lip. When he brought his hand back there was blood.

"Oh my god, you're bleeding Killian, let me get you ice," she scrambled up from her spot on the couch.

"It's alright, I'll be fine," he told her, "just a little cut."

Blushing, Emma continued to the kitchen, "I'll be right back, better to get ice on it so it doesn't swell too much."

Before he could say otherwise she was gone. Throwing his head back against the couch, he sighed in frustration, those noises she'd been making in her sleep had him hard as a rock. He reached under the pillow to adjust himself, and although the knock to his chin had somewhat diminished his hard on, his pants had been a torturous prison for the last ten minutes. What he wouldn't give to know exactly what she'd been dreaming. She whispered my name, he marveled, just the thought had him stiffening again. Rubbing a hand over his face in exasperation, he wondered just how he would endure tonight.

Emma got out a small baggie, filled it with ice and wrapped it in a kitchen towel. Bracing herself with both hands on the counter, she took a deep breath trying to regain her composure. It was no use, composure gone, she folded her arms on the counter and slumped her head down against them. Did I seriously just have a sex dream about Killian, in front of Killian? What the fuck! She whined internally. She decided she would just stay there, head buried until she died.

"Are you ok, love?"

Why won't he let me die with my dignity?

"Yes," she answered from inside her arm cocoon. She felt him sidle up next to her.

"How hard did you hit your head?" he asked quietly.

"It's fine," she insisted.

"If you're fine, why are you using the counter to hold yourself up?"

Wait, he thinks I'm hurt? She tried not to get her hopes up too high, was it possible he was none the wiser, maybe her dream self hadn't been as vocal as she thought.

He put his hands on her arms and pulled her to standing. "Christ, that's a quite a lump you've got there, I think you're the one needs the ice," he chuckled. "Come on back to the couch."

"I'm just going to clean up the kitchen and the lunch dishes." She couldn't help the relief that washed over her, because for sure, if Killian Jones had beared witness to her having a sex dream, he'd lord it over her for ages to come.

"Nonsense, get your ass to the couch or I'll haul your ass over there myself. I want to check you for a concussion."

"And what makes you a concussion expert all of the sudden?"

"In four years of varsity hockey, preceded by years of rec hockey, I've seen and experienced a concussion or two."

"I do not have a concussion," she implored.

"Oh, okay," he smiled angelically. Then before she could stop him he scooped her up bridal style and walked her to the couch.

"Put me down!" she yelped, slapping his chest.

He set her down, then sat next to her, examining her."Gods, you are an infuriatingly stubborn lass! You're lucky you're injured or I would've just slung you over my shoulder cave man style," he threatened.

She chuckled at his feigned exasperation, "You love it, you old cave man."

He stopped for a moment to gauge her words, she had a slight blush on her cheeks, from her words or his actions he didn't know, but he wanted to throw a little caution to the wind. "That I do, Emma," he spoke in all seriousness, waiting to see how she'd react. He wasn't disappointed when she blushed a little deeper.

"Maybe you're the one concussed," she joked.

A telltale sign that Emma was uncomfortable - making a joke of everything. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. "Alright, you look fine to me, just keep the ice on your forehead for the swelling. I'm going to go get supper ready."

"We just ate!" Emma laughed, but ceased when she felt her stomach growl. Looking toward the clock on the wall. Holy shit! It was a quarter past seven. She'd slept forever, there was no way she was going to be able to sleep tonight. She resolved herself to a late night of watching movies. She sat in the recliner by the living room window, and stared out at the snowy blanket covering their world. It was still coming down in droves, at least it would make for great sledding tomorrow. She was broken from her train of thought when he offered her a bowl of stew.

"Wow, this smells amazing," she said appreciatively.

"Aye, Elsa makes a mean stew," he agreed. He sat down in the chair opposite her, and they ate in silence, watching the snow fall, and basking in the heat of the warming fire. Well, Emma watched the snow, he watched her. He wanted to tell her. He needed to tell her.

"I'm go-" Emma started when she noticed Killian staring at her, "what? Do I have food on my face?"

Killian shook his head, more to bring himself out of his reverie, than to answer her. "No, I just…"

Emma looked at him expectantly.

"I just wanted to tell you that," he could do this, "that…

Her expression was open, encouraging him to tell her anything.

"That we only have one set of linens." Fuck, apparently he couldn't do this.

Emma shook her head bewildered by his words, "What? You just wanted to tell me that we only have one set of sheets?"

"Well, yes," he said defensively, "Liam and Elsa only brought up their set last weekend, and when I spoke to Liam this morning we had a bit of a misunderstanding, and I didn't know we needed to bring another set."

Emma didn't know whether to laugh or roll her eyes. She'd thought he'd been on the brink of something much more entertaining than bedsheets. WHAT? Her eyes turned into saucers as the predicament this posed suddenly hit her. I hope he doesn't want my side of the bed, what if he snores, oh god - what if I snore, snuggling, morning breath, cuddling, fucking, kissing, laughing… her mind was running rampant, thoughts flooding her with what lie ahead. Internally slapping herself, she threw on her best nonchalant expression, and shrugged her shoulders, "Well, I guess you're gonna be freezing your ass off tonight. You made dinner, I'll clean up." She grabbed his bowl from his hand, seeing that he was done. She tried not to crack up at the shock frozen on his face, eyebrows cocked, mouth gaping as if trying to process a witty comeback.

He watched her sashay to the kitchen. No way she'd actually make him sleep without a blanket. Right? He joined her in the kitchen to put away the leftover stew. "Swan, you're not seriously going to make a man sleep in the cold of this storm?"

"You have a snow suit, and it's not like you'll be outside, we have a heater," she said, keeping a straight face. "I'm going to take a shower now."

She could keep herself in check, she could handle it, they were both adults. Emma told herself these things while taking out her contacts. She hopped into the hot water and let it cascade down her face, and body, relaxing a bit. She'd tensed up after Killian's linen bombshell. It wasn't like she never got laid. "Oh my god, I never get laid," she whispered to the void of steam surrounding her. It's been over a goddamned year, she thought bitterly. No one since the lousy art thief, who was just as lousy a lay. Finishing up her shower, she dressed, brushed her teeth and hair, put her glasses on, and exited the bathroom.

When Emma exited the bathroom, she went straight to her tote. He took that moment to admire her, she looked so pure, and beautiful, no makeup, her hair wet and tousled. The black and white flannel pajama set made him grin like a loon, as they were the set that Mary Margaret had purchased for all of them this past Black Friday. But his favorite thing, her glasses, he loved when she wore her glasses, which was only at night after taking her contacts out. Even though he was currently admiring her form, he knew she was as perfect inside as she was outside, which is what made her so special to him. "Took you long enough, Swan. What were you doing in there?" he smiled lasciviously at her.

Emma squealed upon hearing his voice, "What the fuck, Jones!"

Her little squeal made him chuckle, but when she spun around in a flash, his laughter died in his throat. Her top wasn't buttoned, and underneath she wore a thin low cut, black cami. He tried his hardest not to stare too hard, but god damn he'd bet good money she was braless.

Seeing that gobsmacked look on his face did things to her body, but she pushed it down, because seriously, "What if I wasn't dressed?"

Recovering quickly, he planted his trademark smirk back on his face, "Well go back in there and strip, then we will see 'what if' you weren't dressed," he suggested.

"Shut up," she grumbled, not having a better comeback. And you," she pointed at him, "are in my bed."

"Please darling, you know I am not sleeping blanketless." He looked at her, daring her to disagree.

"You're on my side of the bed," she mumbled, she would win something if it was the last thing she did.

"That I can work with," he chuckled, getting out of bed, he loved when she argued like a spoiled princess. "I'm going to shower now, no peeking," he warned.

"You are such a child," she rolled her eyes. Throwing back the covers, she sat at the edge of the bed.

"And you love it," he used her words from earlier, sauntering to the bathroom, taking off his shirt before he reached the door. Then he turned around to await her response, leaning against the doorframe casually.

Emma looked him square in the eye, "That I do, Killian." She saw his eyes light up, and that cocky smile that she simultaneously loved and hated, and then he was gone to take his shower. She shook her head, he knows, she thought. The image of him standing there shirtless, poised like a model for crying out loud, was seared into her memory. She nestled into the comfortable bed, warm under the sheets and down comforter. She grabbed her phone and opened her reading app to her latest true crime novel, nothing relaxed her like a good book.

When she heard the bathroom door click open, she automatically looked over. She snorted when she saw he was wearing the same pajamas she had on, dammit Mary Margaret! It was probably a good thing Liam wasn't there,he'd never let them live that one down. He was always going on about how well suited they were to each other. Emma rolled her eyes as she thought about Liam's incessant teasing, as if she was his younger sibling.

Killian climbed into bed, and stayed as far from the middle as he comfortably could. Under all his braggadocio, he was actually quite nervous.

Emma looked over at him, "Jeez Killian, I don't bite."

"I just want you to be comfortable, Emma."

"We are both adults, we'll be fine," she assured him, as much as herself.

"Right," he agreed. "What are you reading?"

"Another true crime novel, this one is about the Green River Killer."

"Hmm, no romance novels for you?" he asked.

"Why read about things that are so beyond the realm of reality? The story lines are cheesy, and the sex scenes are exaggerated, and so over the top, it's ridiculous," she answered.

"Perhaps you've not met a worthy partner."

"Have you ever read one of those things?" she questioned him now.

"As a matter of fact, I have read many a smutty novel, Swan. Consider it research based reading," he waggled his eyebrows.

"Whatever you say, Casanova," she retorted.

He just chuckled at her inability to come up with anything better. "Good night, love."

"You're going to bed already?"

"Some of us didn't sleep the day away. Why, did you have another activity in mind?" he smirked.

"Good night," she laughed, not even attempting to answer that one. She tried not to notice when he took off his matching top. It was a little warm, come to think of it, although she couldn't be sure if that was the heating, or her body's response to having him so near.

Emma read for awhile longer until she found herself having to read the same paragraph over and over, because her mind was no longer processing information. Shutting off her phone, she looked over at Killian, deep in sleep, sighing as she took in his glorious face, his adorable ears, the ever present sex hair, lips that looked enticingly kissable, his strong jawline, his nose, cheekbones, and chin all chiseled to perfection. She wanted to cup his cheek and feel what it would be like to kiss him. She wanted to know what it'd feel like to be held in his strong arms, and what life would be if he felt for her what she did for him. Turning over she resigned herself to the fact that the dream she had today would have to suffice. Switching off her lamp she snuggled into her pillow, her heart heavy with unspoken feelings, and nodded off quickly.

Killian woke to Emma squirming in his embrace, he had an arm wrapped securely around her. Sometime in the night they had both converged to the middle of the bed, and were now cuddled up together. The length of her body was practically glued to his side, her cheek flush against his chest, her barely covered breasts pushing into his ribs, and her arm draped over his torso. Her steady breath caused goosebumps to spread over his pectorals, and down his abdomen. Her sleep addled sigh sent a jolt straight to his south pole. He tried to extract himself from her, but the more he pulled away, the closer she snuggled into his side. Suddenly her leg was up and over his, Gods, she's trying to kill me. Not that he wouldn't love to be there, but his straining erection was becoming quite uncomfortable. Killian pushed his head back against the pillow, and ran a hand through his hair, in frustration; not for the first time he berated himself for his lack of balls where his feeling for Emma Swan were concerned.

"Just hold me," Emma mumbled, before she tightened her hold around his waist.

His head snapped in her direction so quickly, he thought he might've pulled something. Staring her down, he decided, asleep or not, he wanted nothing more than to heed her simple request. And though it might cost him sore bollocks tomorrow, he held her against him, and wrapped his other arm around her small frame. The contented sigh that fell from her lips put a contented smile upon his.

"Sleep, love," he said in a soft voice. He kissed her forehead, then closed his eyes, hoping for sleep to capture him quickly to end this sweet torment.

Emma woke first, she was warm, extremely warm, and pleasantly cocooned in a heap of blanket and Killian Jones. He lay behind her, spooning her, she relished the feel of his arm across her belly, hugging her to him possessively. She wondered what it would be like to wake every morning like this. That is, in the arms of the man she loved. Her lips turned up in a small smile at the private admission, she did love him. Too bad she was too chicken shit to explore those feeling further. She stretched her body fully, arms above her head, feet pointed, back arched. She inhaled sharply as her behind came into contact with the ridge of his morning wood. She bit her lip between her teeth to lock down the moan that threatened to break free. He felt as big as she'd fantasized he'd be, Emma fought the urge to rub her ass against his erection. Shaking her head at herself, she began to extract herself so she could brush away her morning breath and get some coffee brewing.

Killian felt Emma stirring, but pretended to be asleep to enjoy holding her for just a minute more. His ploy was short lived as Emma stretched from head to toe, and arched her back right against his morning erection. Doing his best to remain still and calm, he let her work her way out of his embrace. Once she was up, he feigned a yawned, and began to stretch as if he'd just woken, "Where are you running off to?"

"Coffee." Her one word answer was more than enough explanation for anyone who knew her well.

Rolling over to his back he peered at her through sleepy eyes, "How'd you sleep last night?"

"Like a rock, you?"

"Same, love." Before he could say anything else she disappeared to the bathroom, then down the hall. Deciding he may as well get the day started too, he washed up, got dressed and headed to the kitchen. Emma had two cups of hot coffee ready. "So what's the plan for today," he asked.

"Well, I was thinking we'd just go have a snow day. Let's enjoy the elements." The gleam in her eyes didn't match the nonchalance in her tone, and her beaming smile gave away her childlike love of snow.

"Alright then, how about some breakfast first, then we head out?"

"Breakfast? It's almost noon." She cracked up at the look on his face as his head whipped to the clock on the wall.

"Bloody hell, we slept half the day away! I never sleep this late," he muttered. It didn't escape him that he'd probably slept this late because he'd been snuggled with Emma, he'd felt at home. "Well then, I'll make us lunch, you go get dressed, then we'll go?"

"Perfect." Setting her mug on the counter she started to leave the kitchen when Killian caught her hand.

The expression on her face was hopeful, if he wasn't mistaken, as she looked at him expectantly. He wanted to tell her how much it meant to him to wake up with her in his arms. He found the words wouldn't come though, because what if it didn't mean the same thing to her? "What would you like for lunch?"

His question caught her off guard, he'd looked as though he had something so much more important to say. "I'll eat whatever you make," she told him, giving his hand a squeeze before continuing to the bedroom.

Sighing, Emma pulled out her clothes for the day. She was sure he was going to say something else completely, she wasn't sure what, but it damn sure wasn't about food if the look in his eyes was any indication. She dressed quickly, pulled out her snow gear, and headed back downstairs.

An hour later they were pulling on snowsuits, beanies, scarves, gloves, and boots. "Oh, don't you look adorable in your snow suit," he teased.

Emma was bundled from head to toe, she loved the snow, but hated the cold. She was determined to not feel a single shiver.

"I look like Ralphie's little brother from 'A goddamned Christmas Story', and you're one to talk, with your cute matching hat and scarf."

"They are most certainly not cute! They have skulls, skulls aren't cute, Swan. They're scary."

She laughed hard at his indignance, while walking out the front door. "Oh, quit pouting. You're right they're totally scary, I'm shaking in my boots."

Emma admired the area around them, the land was covered in a thick blanket of fluffy snow. The tree branches were bare, save for the white lining making them heavy. The sun shined brightly, despite the chill in the air, making it a beautiful day. She could see the sleds at the base of the tree that stood at the top of the hill, in the back of the property. Lost in the tranquility of their surroundings, she was ill prepared for the snowball that hit her in the back of the head. Hands on her hips, she turned around to face her enemy. "That was a real pirate move, Jones, if you insist on breaking the rules of engagement, then prepare for a bitter war."

"So, you're saying I've won this battle?"

She stalked toward him, eyeing him carefully, making sure he had no more ammo. She stepped right up into his personal space, and spoke in a calculated tone as she warned him, "You can have this battle, you aren't going to know what hit you when I mount my attack, you'll be waving your white flag, begging for mercy."

"I do love a challenge," he replied, bending just that much closer, bringing them almost nose to nose.

"Good." She took that moment of intense eye contact to hook her right foot behind his left calf, then pushed him as hard as she could, putting him flat on his ass. "Last one to the hill has to pull the sled to the top after every ride," she called over her shoulder as she sprinted away.

Killian laughed heartily at her antics. Rolling over he got to his knees, and ran after her at full speed. She chased down skips, and he chased down perps, so in a fair race it would've been close. Although his attempt was valiant, the head start gave Emma the easy win.

"I win, that's one to one," she bragged.

"That was dirty, Emma. I always knew you had a little pirate in you," he panted as he tried to catch his breath.

"I learned from the best," she teased, just as out of breath.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

She laughed at his quip, he would take that as a compliment, she thought, and maybe he should. Inhaling deeply once more she patted her hand over her chest, "This high altitude air is killer."

"Aye, or you're just out of shape."

"You prick!" She thumped him in the chest, "You're just as out of breath, old man."

"Ouch!" He held his hands to his chest feigning injury, "Why must you always resort to violence, love?"

She just giggled at his theatrics. Grabbing the sled she set it at the precipice and positioned herself at the front, "Are you waiting for an invitation?"

He looked down at her, eyes alight with excitement, then sat down behind her. "Move back, or you're going to face plant."

Emma scooted back until she was fit snug between his legs, and when he wrapped his arms around her waist, she handed him the reins, then wrapped her hands around the outsides of his legs. "Ready?"

"Aye, let's ride!"

With that they both leaned forward a tiny bit, just enough to start them over the edge. The first ride down is always the slowest, before the snow is packed down firmly, causing less friction. They hollered all the way down, anyhow, and once at the bottom, they both called out, "Ramp!"

Planting her feet on either side of the sled, Emma made to stand up when she felt two hands on her ass cheeks right before she plummeted face first into the snow. She could hear Killian cracking up before she even lifted her face. He was going to fucking pay for that!

"Two one, darling," he said, his tone dripping with amusement.

She glowered at him when she finally wiped all the snow off of her now partially numb face.

"You are so lucky I don't have my cuffs-"

"I don't know how lucky I am, considering all the enjoyable activities they can be used for," he interrupted, waggling those damn eyebrows. "Not much of a threat if you ask me."

Emma prayed that he'd chalk the redness on her cheeks up to the ice burn she'd just gotten, because fuck if they weren't burning a whole new shade of blush right now. "I wasn't asking you, I was saying I'd cuff your wrist to your ankle and shove you down the damn hill."

"Would not," he shrugged, then stood up, and offered her a hand.

"No way am I falling for that!" She pushed his hand away and stood up on her own. "Now get the sled, sled boy."

They trudged about halfway up the hill and stopped to build a small ramp into their path. Once it was packed tight, they made their way to the top again. They rode down their hill several more times, playing like kids, and flirting like kids, with teasing, name calling, and pushing.

"I'm going to sit this one out," Emma said when they got to the bottom, "I want to watch you fly solo this time." She cringed internally as soon as the unintentional double entendre left her mouth.

Killian clutched his hand over his heart, and sucked in a dramatically sharp breath. "So forward, you little minx!"

Emma wanted to bury her face in her hands, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. Putting on her most innocent face, and using her most sultry voice, she posed him a simple question, "What's the matter, not up to the challenge?"

"One solo act... coming just for you."

Goddamnit, how was he so quick! All she could do was watch him as he sauntered off sled in tow, and try not to focus on how turned on she was at the moment. If she thought about their words and interactions, she could almost believe there was reciprocity. Shaking herself from those hopeful, at best, thoughts, she noticed he had stopped to fortify their ramp. That's when she remembered her real purpose in begging off from this ride. She set herself up on the side of the path and began preparations for her revenge.

As Killian made his way up the hill he silently threw out a thanks for the fact that no amount of wood sported would ever be seen through all the layers he was wearing. The thought of Emma watching him fly solo, no matter her real meaning, what actually popped into his head, figuratively and kinda literally, had him rock hard the instant she'd said it. Halfway up the hill he was still at half mast, so he stopped at the ramp. Walking uphill, half hard wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, he needed to calm himself. The day had been rife with innuendo and flirting. He wanted to believe that it wasn't one-sided, but couldn't be sure it wasn't just wishful thinking. After willing away his tantalizing visions and thoughts and hard on, he made it back to the top of the hill. Looking down, he saw Emma sitting on her knees, smiling up at him like an angel, and waving.

Emma watched intently as he sat down on the sled and waved back to her. Once he was in motion, there'd be no stopping her. She snickered to herself, delighted with her little plan of attack. She was a pretty good marksman, she could shoot, she could kick ass at darts, and she'd even pitched a couple times whenever Killian's department had baseball games. When he was halfway down the hill, she stood up to launch her attack. Picking up snowballs from her stockpile, she began to wing them in rapid fire succession, the first two missed, but the third one hit him square in the shoulder, blowing up on impact. She squealed with joy, launching two more, then grabbed another armload; as he got closer, her aim got better, one to the chest, another in the stomach, and one just grazed the top of his head. Just yards in front of her, she took aim with her last piece of ammo, the icing on the cake. She jumped up and down, as it smacked him right in his gorgeous face. Wait, what? Oh, whatever. As he careened past her she yelled out, "Two two, sucker!" Emma ran down the path to meet him at the end, and possibly gloat.

Emma was turning out to be a worthy adversary in this winter war. He wasn't sure why he'd thought that wouldn't be the case as she was accomplished at everything she did. He wasn't sure how he was going to surmount this attack. Wiping the snow from his face and slinging it to the ground he noticed a bit of blood. She's drawn blood, he laughed to himself. Just then Emma ran up behind him, then jogged a victory circle around him wear he still sat.

"Two two, Jones," she hollered out boastfully, then she plopped herself down in front of him. Her expression changed from ecstatic to wide eyed worry in a split second. "Oh my gosh, you're bleeding!" She pulled off her glove and reached out to cup his cheek. She ran her thumb over the cut on his right cheek.

Bringing his hand to his face he wiped at the blood, "What? No! Not the moneymaker!"

"I'm so sorry, Killian, there must have been ice in the snowballs."

He laughed in response, "Swan, I'm fine, all is fair in love and war." He wasn't sure which one he was fighting for right now.

"You are such a dork, I'm being serious, you're cut, and it looks kind of deep."

He looked at her, studied the worry in her ever changing shades of green eyes, "I'm being serious, too."

She wasn't sure what exactly he was referring to, but she took off her scarf to wipe away the blood that had started to drip down his cheek. "Come on, let's call it a day, it'll be getting dark soon."

"Alright, but first-" he started, grabbing the collar of her sweater that was now exposed without her scarf, "-a little payback."

"What?" Before she could register his actions, he had her sweater pulled out and proceeded to shove a huge handful of snow down into her shirt. She sprang up off the ground, jumping about like a lunatic. Ripping her jacket off, she raked under her shirt to get the ice cold matter off of her skin. "Holy shit, it's so cold, how can something this cold burn!"

"Three two, love." He barely got the words out before he was pummeled to his back. Emma had pounced and now sat on his stomach.

All he could do was laugh at her half enraged, half playful attempt to shove snow into his jacket. Grabbing her sides, he rolled them both so he was hovering over her. "Calm down, we can call it a tie if it means that much to you."

Emma narrowed her eyes at him, "No, to be continued."

"How about a truce?"

"Nope," she shook her head stubbornly.

"Gods, you are beautiful even when you're being a petulant pain in the arse." He rolled them together, so they were face to face lying in the snow.

Emma's eyes went wide hearing his admission, "What?"

Just like all the times he'd read her like an open book, he thought he knew now what she was feeling, but that little niggling of self doubt caused Killian to hesitate. That doubt made him unsure of where to go from this moment, retreat, or charge forward. He loved her, he wanted to tell her. Maybe things would go to shit, and his worst case scenario would play out; he'd lose his best friend, and roommate. But if he didn't try, he'd never know, and that alternative was unbearable.

Looking into her clear green eyes, he saw flicks hope, want, and maybe even love. A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets, he repeated to himself for the umpteenth time in recent months. And suddenly he knew, the time was now. Staring into her gaze, he slowly closed the distance between them, he needed to know this was okay with her too.

Emma's heart was hammering in her chest. Had she heard him correctly, and was it possible what she saw mirrored in his eyes, matched what was in her heart. She kept her eyes on his, chancing only a glance at his lips, those full lips she'd dreamed of having on hers.

The shrill ring of a phone made them both jump, effectively breaking the moment. Killian rolled to his back, defeatedly throwing his head back against the soft snow, he dug underneath his snow gear searching for his phone.

He missed Emma's eyes close as she tried to hide the disappointment that coursed throughout her entire being. The frustration level that she felt at this moment couldn't be rivaled.

"Happy fucking Christmas to you too, Liam."

Ok, maybe it could, Emma chuckled when she heard Killian's greeting to his brother. Laying there next to him, she watched him pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation, and listened to the clipped tone of his voice. He looked over at her and smiled, "Liam and Elsa wish you a Happy Christmas as well, love."

"Merry Christmas!" she shouted toward the receiver.

When Killian hung up the phone he hopped up offering his hand to Emma, "Come on Swan, it's getting late, we should head back to start dinner."

The sudden end to their day was a bit of a blow, she cursed Liam's ill timed phone call again, taking his hand to stand up.

Once back to the cabin they pulled out everything for dinner and worked together effortlessly. She prepared the salad and potatoes, while he dressed the game hens for baking. "Would you like biscuits too?"

"You know I can't resist your biscuits," he teased, putting the hens into the oven.

She just rolled her eyes, pulling out the ingredients for Ruth's homemade biscuits. Pouring, and mixing, she wasn't oblivious as Killian watched her every move. "What?"

"Just watching you at work, you do know how to handle your biscuits."

"Want to help?" she smiled in his direction, thinking this could be her chance to even the score.

"You'd let me touch your biscuits, Swan?"

She laughed heartily at his continued double entendres. "Sure, come on over. First you want to sprinkle flour onto the counter top, then we are going to roll the dough out."

Killian did as she directed. When the dough started to stick to the rolling pin, she told him to add some flour to it, then she demonstrated by picking up a fist of flour, encompassing the roller.

He watched as she wrapped her small hand around the roller, then proceeded to run her hand the length of it much the same way one would run the length of, get you mind out of the bloody gutter, he chastised himself. He gulped, trying to ward off the color that was surely following the zip of heat running up his neck to his cheeks.

Emma did a happy dance in her mind when she saw the way he was affected. Picking up another little fistful of flour, instead of sprinkling the dough or the roller, she gently clasped his cheek in her hand, then rubbed it across the his face. She burst out laughing at his stuttered shock, "Three three!"

He grabbed her around the waist and drew her in close. "I offered you a tie, and a truce, love, you've left me no choice but to engage in all out war."

As Killian spoke quietly, his eyes alight with mischief, she hung on his every word, unaware of anything else. So it was quite a shock when he poured water over her face, followed by a puff of flour, causing a sticky mess to adhere to her skin. "Mother fucker!" she shouted, grabbing for an uncooked biscuit to smash into his handsome fucking face.

"Easy there, Swan, don't take it out on the biscuits," he said laughingly, as he brought both arms around her, "You started this war, darling, and contrary to your prediction, I will not be waving any white flag, or begging for mercy."

"I did not start it! You hit me in the head with a snowball." She was far too comfortable in his embrace, barely noticing that she had circled her arms around his torso as well.

"Aye, that I did, but you didn't have to turn it into a war."

Did he even know her, Emma Swan did not back away from a challenge. "So you're saying I should've just taken it lying down?"

He waggled his eyebrows at her, a cocky smirk written across his face, "Those are your words, but I'll gladly comply."

She wanted to wipe that smirk right off his lips, shit, she wanted to kiss it away. Before another moment was gone, she stood onto her tiptoes, hovering into his space- The vibration on her butt, and the rude ringing of her phone caused her to curse aloud. Reaching into her back pocket she pulled out her phone and saw it was Mary Margaret. "Shit," she cursed again, "I forgot to call Mary Margaret when we got up her yesterday, she's probably worried." She answered the call as they simultaneously let go of each other.

"Hi Mar-"

"I've been trying to call you all day, I was so worried!" The other woman cut off Emma's greeting.

"I'm sorry, I just completely forgot."

"That's okay, I'm just glad you guys are alright. David told me Liam and Elsa had to cancel, and it's just the two of you. Now's your chance, Emma," Mary Margaret started in on her sister in law. She'd known for awhile about Emma's feelings for Killian. Emma scurried upstairs to the bedroom, nervous that he might be able to hear Mary Margaret speaking.

"Yes mom, I know, it's just that any time something starts to happen we're rudely interrupted by a family member calling."

"Oh shit, sorry, did I just cock block you?"

"Maybe," Emma laughed at her sister-in-law's unusual choice of colorful language.

"Okay, well your brother and I just wanted to wish you guys a Merry Christmas, hope you have a great time. And Emma?"

"Yeah?"

"Go for it, I promise you, things will work out exactly as they should. We love you."

"Thanks, Merry Christmas to you guys too. Love you both."

Hanging up the phone, Mary Margaret looked to David, "Okay, one supportive pushy phone call, per you and Liam. If this doesn't work, I don't know what will."

"As much as I detest the thought of anyone being able to hurt Emma again, they are perfect for each other. Even though he's never told me, I've known Killian long enough to know he loves her, and he has only the best of intentions where Emma is concerned."

Mary Margaret smiled at her husband, hoping that this whole shenanigan would pay off in bringing Emma and Killian the happiness they both deserved.

Emma sat on the bed and pondered her choices. Go back down to an interrupted moment, and face possible awkwardness, or hide out.

Opening the door to the bedroom, she called out to Killian, "I'm going to take a shower, clean this bread off of my face."

Coming to the bottom stair Killian looked up at her peeking out from behind the door. He couldn't read exactly what her expression was saying, because despite her words he knew there were other thoughts swirling around in her mind. "Sure, love, dinner will be ready by the time you're out."

She nodded at him, kicking her cowardly self in the ass. Closing the door she stripped down, and grabbed her pajamas heading to a hot relaxing shower. She'd work this out, she would come up with a game plan. Before turning into a prune, she turned off the shower, and dressed. Slowly braiding her hair, she frowned at herself in the mirror, "What the fuck is wrong with you?" She knew deep down, Mary Margaret was right, and she knew he felt something for her on some level, so why was she so scared?

Walking out to the bed, she plopped down dramatically, feeling clean and fresh, but not relaxed in the slightest. She'd been spinning her gears for the past half an hour and wasn't coming up with anything. She was only led by her fear, and she hated that. She wasn't a coward, and she wasn't going to let her past dictate her future. Before she realized it hot tears burned at the corners of her eyes. She wasn't sad, she was angry and frustrated, mostly with herself. Maybe she was a little mentally exhausted too, this weekend of missed moments had her a little overwrought.

Killian opened the door, "Dinner is ready when you are, Swan."

She jumped at hearing his voice; chancing a peek at him, she saw he was wet haired, and realized they were both wearing their matching pajamas again. "Cool jammies," she tried to joke, letting out a laugh that sounded more like a sob. She'd momentarily forgotten her embarrassing tears when he'd entered. "When did you change?" She asked, sitting up, and swiping at her eyes quickly to hide the tears. Of course she didn't fool him for an instant, and he was by her side, arm around her shoulder pulling her into a hug.

"I grabbed my stuff and showered downstairs while you were up here. Now, no one should be sad on Christmas Eve," he murmured into her hair. He hated seeing her sad, wanted to hurt whoever had made her sad.

His words caused another sob to wrack her body. God she was being dramatic now, inhaling deeply she tried to calm herself as she heard him asking her what was wrong. She looked up at him, eyes wet with frustrated tears, cheeks pink with embarrassment, and a heart full of love. "I'm in love," she blurted out.

Killian felt a sharp pain in his chest. "What is sad about that?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know if he feels the same, and I'm too much of a chicken shit to find out."

He thought this might be what it feels like to have a dagger pierce his heart. "He'd be a bloody fool, Emma-" but he was cut off. Her lips were on his, her arms were thrown around his neck and her hands trailed into his hair. This was everything he'd wanted, what he'd imagined right before they'd been interrupted each time this weekend. He felt the wetness of tears on his cheeks, and he wasn't sure now if they were hers, or his. As much as it hurt him to do so, he put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her away. "Stop, Emma, I don't want to do something we'll regret."

Emma's chest seized when she heard his words. Hadn't she really known? Why would he feel the same about her. "Sorry," she breathed out, hurt clear in her tone.

"Don't be sorry love." He wondered why she sounded hurt. Shouldn't he be the one hurting, she was in love with another man, while his stupid arse was in love with her.

He spoke with a sadness in his voice that made Emma look up. Why would he be sad? She saw that the expression on his face matched his tone. God, did he pity her? She blanked after that, not knowing what to say, how to save this situation. How did she smooth this chink in their perfect friendship. "Fuck, I am such an idiot."

"You're not an idiot, Emma," he started, "I just can't… I can't be a replacement for the person you love. I have to preserve my own heart here." His voice broke on his last statement, and now he knew it was his tears he'd felt when she'd kissed him. As much as he hated showing vulnerability, he knew it was safe to do so in front of Emma, his best friend. Apparently, all she'd ever be to him. Closing his eyes, he tried to breath deeply, the emotional hurt he felt was stronger than he'd ever thought possible. A side effect of being married to his job for so long, he was quite unaware of how to process real feelings.

"Wait what?" Her mind was dizzy, a word he'd said… replacement, "What do you mean a replacement?"

He looked at her, willing her to magically understand. He didn't want to spell it out at the risk of twisting the dagger deeper into his wound. Still she stared at him, waiting for him to explain. Fuck it.

"I mean, I can't replace whoever the lucky bloke is that you've chosen to give your love to. I love you, and it'd hurt me far too much to be with you just one night. I'd love to be enough for you, to be the one you love, but since I'm not-"

"You love me?" Her heart fluttered in her chest, she felt it coming back to life, swelling with hope.

Bringing his hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose, he cursed internally at the number she was doing on his heart. "Aye, Swan, I love you, are you trying to make this harder?" He didn't want to sound harsh, but he was hurting. He'd prefer to end this conversation, and lie in a blanketless bed, than be raked further over the coals.

"No, Killian, are you trying to make this harder?"

"What?" He looked at her as though she'd gone mad. She wanted to jest at a time like this?

"You're the one making this harder than it has to be." She smiled so widely at him, she thought her face might crack. She watched his hurt turn to shock, then a little anger, then back to sadness. "Killian," she said, trying to get him to look at her. When he wouldn't, she placed both her hands on his cheeks, to force him to look at her. He tried to pull away, but she kept a firm grip, "Killian! When I said I am in love, and then kissed you, I meant I am in love with you."

He wanted to believe his ears had heard right, and if they had he wanted to believe she meant it. His first thought was that she was trying to fix the situation. Finally looking directly into her eyes he was overcome by the sheer amount of truth and love he saw shining in her intense gaze.

"I love you, Killian," she repeated.

He blinked his eyes, trying to register every facet of this moment. He felt another lone tear trail down his cheek as he watched her.

"I love you," she whispered as she descended on his lips again. It was gentle, just lips, little touches trying to convey her love.

He finally snapped out of his haze, bringing his hands to her waist he picked her up and lifted her over his lap. "Do you mean it?"

The hope in his eyes made her heart soar, she couldn't even understand how that look affected her. That he needed her so deeply, wanted her love so wholly, it broke her open. "Yes, Killian, I love you." She pressed her forehead to his willing him to hear the truth in her words.

"Gods, Emma, I love you so much. You've no idea how many times I've wished to hear you say those words, how many times I've dreamed it. I..." kiss, "love..." kiss, "you."

She laughed, a pretty, cascading laugh, her heart filled to within an inch of bursting. She kissed him again, starting off shyly, she pressed her lips to his over and over, waiting for him to take the next step. Sitting on his lap still, she caressed her fingers over the column of his neck, and up into his thick hair. She'd fantasized about being right here, just like this, more times than she cared to admit.

Killian let himself get lost in her lips, and the sensation of her delicate hands caressing him. Her touch was so sensual and loving, he couldn't stop his hands when they started to roam. Starting at her waist he splayed his hands wide under her cami, running them up along her torso, luxuriating in the feel of her supple skin as it broke out in a chill, the tiny bumps signaling her response to his touch. He felt the little sigh that slipped from Emma's parted lips, and pulled her bottom lip into his mouth, opening her up as he worked the flesh between his tongue and teeth.

She melted against him when she felt his teeth worry the skin of her lip, opening up to him she darted her tongue out to caress his top lip. Seizing the moment, she deepened the kiss, tentatively running her tongue over his. The moan she heard told her he was in the same spot as her. Grabbing a handful of hair at the base of his neck she sealed her lips to his, continuing her ministrations, their tongues sliding together in a perfect rhythm. Goddamn he was a phenomenal kisser, and before she could even stop the thought from entering her mind, she wondered what that mouth would feel like on every other inch of her body.

Not daring to inch any higher, Killian slid his hands back down her lithe frame. He continued further down and rubbed over her lower back and finally down to her backside. Cupping her ass, he scooted her up on his lap.

She pulled back when she felt his hands on her ass. "Hmmm, I've always wondered if you were an ass, leg, or breast man."

Giving her derriere a loving squeeze, Killian looked her in the eyes, "I love your arse, it is a modern marvel." Moving his left hand to hold her around the waist, he brought his right hand to her jawline, "But truth be told, I'm an Emma man," he ghosted his hand down her throat, sliding over her clavicle, and brought it to rest atop her heart, "I am a fan of every part of you."

Emma pushed him to his back, laughing at him, "I bet you say that to all the girls."

"Let me assure you there is no one else I've ever loved, like I love you."

"Show me how much you love me," she gently thrusted her hips against his tented pajama pants.

"Fuck, Emma," he looked up at her, hands at her waist, "May I?" he asked as he fingered the hem of her cami. He didn't miss how her nipples had pebbled underneath the thin material. When she nodded her head, he pushed the shirt away revealing the creamy skin of her belly. She took over when he couldn't reach any further, and pulled the tank top quickly over her head. "Gods, you are gorgeous."

Emma took both of his hands and placed them over her breasts, "Show me." She smiled at the way his pupils dilated, almost black, as he began to massage her. "That feels so good, I've wanted you to touch me for so long."

Killian stopped his movements, "How long?"

Glaring down at him, she put her hands over his again, coaxing him to play with her breasts. "Probably since the moment I met you, although loving you came much later. I wanted you so badly at times I'd dream of us."

"Were you dreaming of us yesterday?" he asked, although the smirk on his face told her he already knew the answer.

Emma's cheeks pinked, "Yes." She ducked her head shyly.

"Don't do that, love, look at me." He waited for her to bring her eyes back to his. "You were making the most delicious sounds in your sleep, you had me hard as a rock under that pillow. I've dreamed of you many times, Emma, only to wake and find it is my own hand stroking myself, and not you."

Emma gasped slightly at his admission, not sure she was quite ready to make her own confessions yet, like how hot she found the thought of Killian stroking himself. "Take your shirt off."

He complied immediately feeling a surge of pride as Emma licked her lips while staring the expanse of his upper body.

She'd seen him shirtless before, but never with free reign to touch. She placed her hands on his pecs, and curled her fingers through his thick swirls of chest hair. Caressing down his chest, Emma ran a nail down the trail of hair leading down his chest until she reached his navel. She revelled in the shiver that wracked Killian's body with just a small scratch of her fingernail. Splaying her hands over his abs, she rubbed at the hard muscle under his smooth skin. "Killian, I want you," she whispered, trying to control the want in her voice.

"You have me." He brought her face down to his, needing to feel her full lips work with his. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, and bit down lightly as he bucked his hips lightly against hers. He heard the small sigh, and it drove him wild. Squeezing her hips he rolled them over so he was leaning over her.

Emma drew in a shaky breath, and brushing the hair that had fallen over his forehead, was overwhelmed by the intensity in his expression. He kissed a trail along her jaw, his combination of his warm breath, and soft lips sending a jolt of pleasure careening south.

Killian wanted to taste all of her, he stopped at her pulse point, sucking a little harder, careful not to mark her. He trailed kisses further down until he reached her chest. Pulling a taut peak into his mouth, he worked at her eliciting all the little moans and gasps he could. "I love listening to you, Emma." He slid his hand deftly down her belly to the band of her pants, and rested his fingers just underneath, waiting for her to signal that this was okay. Biting at her breast, and branding her with his mouth, he felt her hand interlace with his, urging his further into her pants.

Emma couldn't wait anymore, he was a wonder with his mouth, but she needed to be touched there, her clit was throbbing with want. She guided his hand, anxious to feel his touch. When he brushed two fingers down the length of her panty clad core, her whole body trembled.

"You are so warm Emma, I can feel you through your panties, love. You're making it very hard for me to be a gentlemen right now."

"I thought the point was to make it hard." Emma cupped him through his pants, the hiss he let out was delectable, and she couldn't help imagining how good would he feel inside her. "Strip," she demanded.

"As you wish," he murmured, standing to drop his pants. He wasn't shy at all, but he found himself holding his breath to see what his Swan's reaction would be. He wasn't disappointed when she bit her bottom lip, and heard her small hum of appreciation. He licked his lips, wanting nothing more than to dive back in where he'd been.

Emma felt a little lightheaded as she ogled Killian Jones from head to toe. She tried to not linger to long on his straining erection, but god it was calling to her. She'd never been overly enthusiastic about oral sex, but she found herself anticipating the feeling of his warm cock sliding between her lips. She dropped to her knees from the bed, "Come here," she whispered.

Killian took the step to her, and jumped slightly as Emma slapped her hands around his backside, firmly squeezing his cheeks. She yanked him forward until he could feel her breath upon his cock. Before he could pull her up to standing, she'd wrapped her soft hand around his base. He was enthralled as she looked up into his eyes, and wrapped her lips around his length.

Emma began to move, doing what felt natural. Hearing his little pants and pleas was heady, and she could feel her arousal, she rubbed her thighs together in search of relief. She felt his hand in her hair, gently massaging her scalp, and she found herself lost to the passion.

"Gods Emma, stop love, get up here."

She let him drop from her mouth and looked at him questioningly. "Not good?"

"You were fucking sensational," he praised, rubbing nervously behind his ear, "but... ladies first."

"I guess chivalry isn't dead," she smirked, then unceremoniously pulled her pants off.

Killian marveled at the beauty in front of him. He studied her, committing every inch of her body to memory. Her face, dusted with freckles, and slight blush, her perky breasts, and pebbled peaks, her toned creamy skin,and those legs that he'd envisioned wrapped around his face.

Emma crawled onto the bed, proudly displaying her ass, before lying on her back. Killian followed her onto the bed and knelt between her legs, he admired her cranberry lace cheekinis, he believed they were called. They framed her ass well, and he could see the contour of her heat. He crooked his index fingers at her waistband, "May I?"

Emma nodded her head, and let him pull her panties from her legs. Leaning up on her elbows she watched as he spread her legs a little wider. She felt like a display.

"I want to taste you, darling."

Emma began to sit up, "You don't have to do that."

"I know I don't have to, I want to."

"Umm, I don't really enjoy it that much," she blushed as she admitted this secret.

"Try something new darling, it's called trust."

Emma complied, lying her head back down on the bed. She felt him pass two fingers through her folds, then he circled her clit with her arousal. His touch was perfect, she let the sensations of his talented fingers play across her clit, fisting her hands into the sheets. Her eyes slipped closed for a moment when he finally slid two fingers home, so she wasn't prepared when she felt his mouth against her core. "Oh, shit!" She let go of the sheets and fisted hair. Emma watched as Killian's dark head of hair worked between her thighs.

When he saw her eyes close he took that moment to surge ahead. He kissed her center, applying a light pleasure, then he began to roll his tongue against her clit. He continued to pump his fingers into her heat, enjoying the little noises she made for him, because of him. He revelled in the sting of her hands clasping fistfuls of his hair.

She'd never felt pleasure like this, oral sex had never been high on her list of favorite activities. Perhaps that was because she'd never had Killian's skilled mouth bringing her to the edge. "Almost, Killian," she panted out.

Killian heard her, and pointed the tip of his tongue, flicking it over her swollen flesh quicker. He was determined to bring Emma her climax first, but her slick center made him desperate to be inside her. He sucked her clit into his mouth, moaning against her as her walls quivered around his fingers.

Her legs tensed up, and her belly pulled as she neared the edge. Emma pulled at his hair, and thrust her hips against his mouth, desperate to get off. When he curled his fingers, rubbing perfectly over that spot, she broke, crying out his name. The pleasure, once running rampant in her body, converged at her core, causing rhythmic pulses of bliss to overwhelm her. "Killian, that was…"

He looked up at her from between her thighs, with a devilish grin on his face. "It was what? Mind blowing, earth shattering, life altering?"

"Shut up, and get up here."

Killian took his time kissing his way back up her toned body, stopping to appreciate her breasts again. He felt Emma give a sharp tug on his hair and continued in his original path. "I love it when you're a bossy little thing." He smiled at her lovingly, then leaned in to kiss her softly.

"Good, cuz I like being the boss." Emma could feel his hard length pressing against her pelvis, she wrapped one leg around his body, and rolled them both so she was on top now. She pinned his hands above his head, her breasts swaying over his mouth. Straddling him, she lowered her core just enough to slide over the length of his cock. He was hot beneath her and she longed to feel him deep inside.

"Fuck, Swan!" Killian felt her warm flesh glide over him, his cock jerking in response. "Don't tease me lass, I need to be in you." He sucked a pebbled nipple into his mouth and gave a sharp tug, before laving his tongue over her stinging flesh.

Emma gasped at the sweet pain, "And you will be, you gave me mine, now I'm giving you yours." Letting go of his hands, she reached down between them and teased his head through her folds several times. Keening at the sensation of him pressing against her entrance, she pushed down slowly, enjoying the drag against her walls. When she was halfway down, she withdrew, looking at him, actualizing this moment between them.

Killian grabbed onto both her hips, kneading at the flesh, feeling her around him was better than anything he'd conjured in his wildest fantasies. He returned her gaze as she sat poised, waiting for her next thrust. "Emma please," he begged.

Emma brushed his hair from his forehead and leaned down to kiss him, while she slowly slid back down his length this time to the hilt. She moaned at the fullness, and the stinging as she stretched around him. "You feel amazing," she mumbled into his mouth as she continued to kiss him. Emma set a slow pace, riding him languidly, enjoying the way her clit ground against him on every downward stroke. His strong hands squeezed her hips, guiding her, and she felt her orgasm building again. Sitting up, she cupped her breasts, and began to roll her nipples, allowing his tight hold to balance her.

"I love it when you touch yourself, Emma. Do you like touching yourself?"

"Mmmhmm, yes Killian," she answered his question. "I touch myself when I think of you. Your cock is so much better than my fingers." She picked up her pace, his dirty talking sending jolts of pleasure to her clit.

Killian thrust up into Emma meeting her every stroke, clutching at her hips, his feet digging into the mattress. He was mesmerized as he watched his length disappear into her hot heat over and over, when her core began clamping around his cock his balls draw up tight, and his body tensed. He wasn't going to last much longer. "Emma, I want to watch you come while you fuck me."

His words. He was going to make her come with words. Emma couldn't comprehend what it was about his words, the intensity, the accent, the way he growled his salacious thoughts. She was right there, waiting to fall over.

"That's it, I can feel you squeezing my cock, you're so tight. Let go for me one more time, love."

Slamming up into her, he rolled his pelvic muscle against her, and she shattered immediately. Dropping her hands to his chest she rode through her orgasm, grinding herself against him. Her thrusts were becoming shallow, and weak as her pleasure wracked body began to relax.

Killian flipped them over, hands still at her hips he lifted her off the bed slightly and continued to piston into her contracting walls. "So perfect, Emma." He drove into her twice more before he was shouting out his release.

She watched him as he peaked, appreciating his gorgeous face, his eyebrows furrowed, cheeks flushed, mouth slightly agape, throaty groans of pleasure spilling forth. She knew in that moment that Killian Jones' sex face was her newest favorite Killian Jones faces. She wondered if she looked as wrecked from the pleasure they brought each other.

Killian fell to her side with a grunt, closed his eyes, and snored dramatically.

Emma cracked up loudly, "Did I tire you out?"

He opened up his eyes, a playful glint in them, "Aye, you did." He brought his hand to her cheek, "That was-"

"Mind blowing, earth shattering, life altering?"

"As a matter of fact, that's exactly what I was going to say," he chuckled. He got up and headed to the bathroom. When he emerged he had a warm washcloth to help her clean up. When they finished they snuggled into the warm blankets of the bed, turning in to face each other.

"Okay, now what were you really going to say?"

"I was going to say, that was so much more than I've ever hoped to share with you. I'd resigned myself to you only wanting to be friends. I'm kind of glad Liam and Elsa couldn't make it. Who knows how long it would've taken us to get here. This is by far the best holiday I've ever had, and it's because of you."

She studied his face, seeing the truth of his words. If she thought she couldn't love him anymore than she already did, she was wrong. She threw her arms lovingly around his neck in an all encompassing hug. "Thank you."

"For what?" He could feel her warm breath against his neck where she clung to him.

"For always making me feel cherished, and special, and whole, and like I am enough…" she paused to kiss him deeply.

"Emma Swan, anyone who told you, or made you feel like you weren't enough, was a bloody fool. You are special to me, and you are enough, more than I deserve, and you're all I need."

"I love you, Killian," she whispered, her throat tight with emotion.

"I love you, Emma. Happy Christmas."

They fell asleep, pajamas forgotten, cuddled up together.

The next morning they woke to the bed shaking violently.

"What the fuck," Emma grumbled, still half asleep. Killian stirred to life behind her, literally as she felt his erection pressing into her backside. She wiggled against him, "What is that?"

"Earthquake?" Killian answered eyes still shut.

"Wake Up!"

"What the-" Emma shrieked, eyes flying open to see Elsa and Liam peering at them like two kids on Christmas morning waking their parents. She was sure she was the color of a holly berry as she flung the blanket over her head, hoping that hiding would turn this into a dream.

"Happy Christmas," Liam and Elsa cheered merrily.

Killian now sitting up, was staring at them as if they'd lost their minds. "What are you… I thought you couldn't… do you mind?!"

Liam guffawed at his brothers indignation, "If not for Elsa and me, little brother, there wouldn't be anything for us to be minding."

"What?" Emma yelled ripping the blanket off her head and tucking it securely under her chin.

"What this big lug means is," Elsa spoke up, wrapping her small arms around her strapping husband, "we pretended we couldn't make it because… well you two needed a minute alone to realize what everyone else knows already."

"What I really meant was, you both needed to get your sorry arses in gear instead of pining over each other for another bloody year," Liam corrected his wife, smirking at his younger brother.

"You're lucky I'm naked, or so help me I'd give you a good walloping right now." Killian cringed when he felt Emma elbow him under the blanket.

"Seriously, Killian? Good one," she hissed.

"Lass, we knew as much, given that your cute couple pajamas are outside the sheets, and you're both inside the sheets," Liam laughed loudly. He was finding an endless amount of entertainment at their expense.

"Get out you menaces, we'll be down in a few minutes."

"Don't rush on our account, this has been a long time coming," Liam jested.

"I said out!"

Elsa just laughed her tinkling laugh, as she pushed Liam toward the door, "Oh, and we brought some company. Breakfast is in fifteen."

Killian layed back down with a huff, "Sorry about my arse of a brother, love."

"It's not your fault," Emma groaned from under the blanket, "I'm just so embarrassed."

When she didn't come out from under the blanket on her own, Killian joined her underneath. Pulling her into his embrace, he gave her a peck on the lips before telling her, "There is no need to be embarrassed, I love you, and-"

"I'm not embarrassed that they know about us. I'm mortified that apparently they've known how we feel about each other forever, I guess I didn't hide my feeling as well as I thought I had. And… we're in their bed, Killian!"

Killian laughed hysterically, "Serves those meddling buggers right!"

Emma giggled along with him, this was her life now, she'd better get used to it. "I love you, too," she returned his earlier sentiment.

Killian kissed her thoroughly, morning breath be damned. It didn't matter that there was apparently a house full of people downstairs, he couldn't help his body's reaction to her.

"Oh my god, Killian, how can you possibly be hard with people downstairs?"

"Emma, you've had me hard many times, dearest, including when your brother lived down the hall." He punctuated his statement with a thrust of his hips.

Emma moaned low, wrapping her leg around his waist and thrusting right back, this time his length slid between her folds, "Killian, we don't have time," she whispered, knowing she was going to let him do whatever he wanted to do, she'd waited far too long to deny him or herself anything.

"Why don't we get dirty, while we get clean," he murmured into her ear, biting her lobe, before sucking it into his warm mouth.

A shiver wracked Emma's body, reaching between them she palmed his cock, stroking him lovingly. "I'd love to," she smirked when he gasped.

They made it downstairs 30 minutes later, showered, sated, and ready for Christmas morning. When they rounded the corner they saw Anna and Kristoff, as expected, since Elsa had mentioned guests. What they were not expecting to see was Mary Margaret with a Cheshire cat's grin, and David with an expression between a scowl and begrudging acceptance.

Mary Margaret was up immediately, embracing Emma, "I'm so happy for you, it's about damn time," she whispered into Emma's ear, "I'm sure you understand why Mr. Grumpy Pants and I didn't come to greet you in bed."

"Did you guys know too?" Emma was trying her damndest to hide her mortification, all she wanted to do was cover her face in her hands. She knew there was absolutely nothing wrong with anything she and Killian were doing, but it was still a shock to have everyone up in their business right away.

"Emma, a person would have to be blind not to see the chemistry and affection you two share. Or purposefully ignoring it," she giggled as she motioned with her head toward David.

Emma blushed furiously, knowing that there was nothing to blush over, but still a little overwhelmed by the fact that she and Killian were just starting out, and already the whole world knew, and accepted it with open arms.

Killian had ventured over toward David when Mary Margaret attack hugged Emma. He wanted to give them a moment, and he needed to speak to his friend about his intentions.

"Merry Christmas, mate," Killian greeted him, testing the waters.

"Especially merry for you, I take it?"

"Look Dave, I love her."

David didn't respond, but sat in his chair stoically, staring Killian down.

"I've loved her for awhile. This is not some fling, I want to take care of her, and be everything she needs, I want to spend my life loving her." He surprised even himself by vocalizing that last part. He knew he loved her, but he'd never looked much further than finally telling her as much. "Dave… I said I want to-"

"I'm fucking with you, man," David finally spoke up with a huge smile that crinkled the corner of his eyes. He chuckled at the sheer relief he saw in his best friend's eyes. "I've known for as long as everyone else, it was downright painful to watch you two sometimes. Thank God Mary Margaret begged me to move in with her."

"David Nolan! Don't you dare make me tell them how mushy you got when you proposed," she mock scolded.

David held his hands up in surrender, "Love you, sweetheart."

The sound of a whiplash could be heard from somewhere in the room, causing everyone to break out into laughter, including David.

"Hey, if there is anyone I thought was good enough for my baby sister, it's you," David told Killian before pulling him into a bro hug.

"Thanks, mate."

"Alright, now that we all know everyone is happy for everyone, let's eat! I'm bloody starving," Liam groused.

After breakfast they all exchanged gifts, then proceeded to have a fun filled day of sledding, guys versus girls snowball fights, hot cocoa with cinnamon, and a hearty Christmas dinner. Later that night Emma and Killian lay tangled together, in what was now decidedly their bed for the weekend.

Brushing the sweat dampened hair from her forehead, Killian looked lovingly at Emma, and she at him. "Thank goodness our families know what they're doing," he whispered, "it was getting more difficult each day to love you from afar."

"I'm sorry I was a chicken shit, no more though, I love you Killian Jones, and I want to spend the rest of my life loving you."

"Well then, it's your lucky day since I was just telling your brother that I wish to spend the rest of my life loving you."

Kissing each other senseless, they made love long into the night, thoughts of forever and for always swaddling the new couple.