Emma quickly downed the champagne. Her parents were throwing the first Christmas party since they had been returned to the Castle. Regina and Cora were gone and peace had been restored. Of course, that was the peace on a grand scale. To Emma, she was still in conflict.
She was a princess. While she was allowed to fight like her father and mother, she still had to do princessy things like be diplomatic and wear this crazy dress. On someone else, it could have looked nice and Emma would have gladly complimented the wearer. Emma however, was ready to tear at the gorgeous cloth. The light pink fabric shimmered on her body and draped elegantly and she was sure it looked pretty, but Emma would have been much more comfortable with jeans, a jacket, and a gun holstered on her hip. Mary Margaret, of course, insisted she needed something a bit more feminine. Emma was stuck smiling and shaking hands when all she wanted to do was go shoot something.
As soon as the guests stopped arriving, Emma practically ran to a corner. She pressed her back to the wall and let out a sigh.
"Tired, love?" asked a smooth voice. Emma's eyes shot open and she groaned,
"Not you. Go away." She said. Killian chuckled lowly,
"Would if I could." He was dressed to kill, his usual leather replaced with softer, darker fabric. Even Emma had to admit he was easy on the eyes. She met his eyes questioningly and followed his gaze up to the ceiling. Hung above them was a bunch of mistletoe.
"It's enchanted, isn't it." Emma said.
Killian nodded.
"We can't get out unless I kiss you?"
"'Fraid so. One kiss, and I'm gone." He said with a smirk. Emma sighed, stood on her tiptoes and pecked his cheek. Killian tried to move his feet, but to no avail.
"Lips or nothing." He said. His smirk had only widened. Emma groaned,
"You're just enjoying this."
"Immensely." He laughed. Emma sighed, took his face between her gloved hands, and kissed his lips. She pulled back as soon as their lips met and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand.
"Go shave. That was like kissing a broom." Emma said scathingly. She walked from the corner with a sort of feline grace Killian hadn't seen before. Her hips swayed back and forth beneath her dress. Killian watched and tried not to lick the last traces of her from his lips. He might be an old broom, but she was a fresh hellcat, tasting better than any spirit that had ever passed his lips. Killian grinned and chuckled to himself. What a hellcat she'd be.