Santa Claus is Coming to Town
Today's story was originally written as part of my Fluffy Friday's collection. It was written just after 5a aired, and is now more of a post 5b canon divergence. Disappointed that no one seems to be in the Christmas spirit, Henry inadvertently casts a curse that will either spread Christmas cheer…or drive everyone nuts.
Rating: T
CS genre: future fic (post 5b)
The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear.
~Buddy the Elf~
Emma woke abruptly, hand going immediately to her racing heart. It had been six months since their return from the Underworld, but she still had the dream with frightening regularity: She had to watch Killian die again, sacrificing himself for all of them. They made it to the Underworld, but just as they were about to reach Killian, he slipped from her grasp, falling farther and farther away from her until he was lost to her for good.
She swiveled her head to the side and then sighed in relief. He lay there beside her, sleeping peacefully, the ghost of a smile on his lips. She still felt the tears gather at the thought that the reality had been far from her nightmare. She had found Killian; she'd brought him home. They'd married as soon as it could be arranged; neither wanting to wait another second to make the vows that would join them together as one forever.
Emma smoothed the unruly hair away from her husband's face, and then bent down to kiss him, needing to reassure herself that he was alive and well and here with her. She'd meant it to be just a quick kiss, a peck, but the moment her lips met his, the familiar fire that was ever-present between them fanned into flame.
He groaned deep in his chest and breathed her name, hand coming to tangle in her hair, mouth slanting to meet hers, to deepen the kiss, before he was even fully awake. The kiss went on for long moments, becoming more all-consuming with each passing moment, but finally Killian pulled away, breathing heavily.
"That was quite the pleasant way to wake, my love," he said, his voice still gravely from sleep. "To what do I owe this show of affection?"
She stroked his face, smiling down at him, not wanting to mar the moment with talk of her dream. She shrugged. "Merry Christmas, Killian."
He gave her a searching look, his brow furrowing in obvious concern. "It was the dream again, wasn't it, Swan?"
She flopped back onto her side of the bed with a sigh. The man was too perceptive for his own good. "Yeah. Six months back home and safe and everything, and I still have the dream. I just, I don't know, I needed to reassure myself that you're here and safe and all of that."
He raised up on one elbow, looking down at her, running his fingers through her messy curls. After a moment he turned from concerned husband to dashing rapscallion. "I assure you I am, Emma. If you, however need to be convinced, I've more than a few thoughts on how to put your mind at ease."
Emma felt the desire coil deep within at the heated look in his eyes and she smiled up at him before bringing his mouth back to hers. "Yeah, I think I could use a little convincing, pirate."
This kiss was all heat and white hot passion from the start. Emma felt Killian's hand move to the buttons on her pajama top, and things were about to get really interesting, when suddenly their bedroom door slammed open.
"We wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas, and a happy New Year," came Leroy's loud voice. A moment later, the man himself—along with his usual grumpy scowl—came into view.
"What the hell?" Killian growled as he rolled off of Emma and shot the dwarf a look that could kill.
Emma hastily re-buttoned her pajama top and then sat up, looking at the people pouring into her bedroom—the dwarfs, Regina and Robin, Granny and Ruby, her parents, Henry—the latter three looking extremely uncomfortable at the scene they'd burst in upon. "You guys ever think about, I don't know, knocking before you barge into a person's house? And their bedroom?"
"No time, sister," Grumpy said with a scowl. "Seems like we've been cursed again and we're gonna need the savior."
~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~
"Wait," Emma said, holding up a hand and looking at her family and friends now surrounding her booth at Granny's. "You're telling me that Santa, Santa Claus is real too? And that he cursed us? How does this even happen?"
Ruby walked past singing "Santa baby", while in the far corner Archie and Marco began a rousing chorus of "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the year." Henry joined Emma and Killian in their booth.
"Yeah…" he said, glancing aside. "I, um…I think this is my fault. I kind of wrote a letter to Santa and, well, this happened."
"You…you wrote a letter to Santa asking him to curse us so that we all break out into Christmas songs every few moments?" Emma asked, rolling her eyes as the rest of the dwarfs surrounded Leroy and started singing "You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch."
"Kid, this's got to be the most annoying curse ever."
"You're telling me," Granny groused, stopping by their booth on the way to serve a couple in the back who'd just begun serenading each other with Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, and looking very displeased about it. "If I have to hear Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer one more time, the blue-plate special might start coming with a side of poison."
"Oh please," Regina said with an eye roll worthy of a queen, "you think that's bad? Roland's been singing The Twelve Days of Christmas more or less non-stop for the past twenty-four hours. I'm about to go all Evil Queen on everyone."
"Well, lad," Killian said, fixing Henry with a stern, fatherly look, "your mother asked you a question. What have you to say for yourself? Why did you go to this 'Santa' fellow and request a curse?"
Henry sighed deeply. "I didn't request a curse," he said. "I just. I don't know, wanted everyone to get a little Christmas spirit, you know, after you all decided to skip Christmas and everything. I didn't want Santa to curse you! I just thought we needed all the peace and love and joy and family and all that holiday stuff we could get after what we've been through. I asked Santa to help me think of a way to make everyone see that we need Christmas more than ever this year."
"The holly and the ivy, when they are both full grown, of all the trees that are in the wood, the holly bears the crown," Ashley and Thomas sang—in perfect harmony—as they stopped by the table. "Emma! You've got to help us stop this!"
"Alright everybody," Emma said, bringing her hands to her temples. "Just…let me think for a minute."
It was true what Henry said; they had made a town-wide decision to skip Christmas this year. It had been decided that after everything everyone had been through lately—between Zelena and the Queens of Darkness and then both Killian and her becoming Dark Ones and then Rumple's renewed betrayal, and then going through hell to bring Killian back—that they deserved a break, a chance to just catch their breath and renew their strength before the next villain showed up (or Rumple found a way back from the Underworld where they'd left him). There was no doubt the new year would bring a new curse or villain or crisis of some type. Last thing they all needed was the hustle and bustle and stress of the Christmas season.
Henry had been disappointed, of course, but she'd promised to make it up to him. He'd seemed to accept it graciously enough after that, and Emma had hoped he accepted the town's decision.
Guess not, if he was writing letters to Santa requesting Yuletide backup.
"Not to state the obvious," Killian said, settling his arm around Emma's waist, "but there is a tried and true method for breaking curses. Has anyone thought to try True Love's Kiss?"
"Couldn't hurt," David said turning toward Mary Margaret.
Emma watched as her father bent toward her mother, as Robin took Regina in his arms, and then felt her own true love nudge her with his hook. "Shall we do our part as well, love?"
"Yeah, I think we'd better," Emma said, smiling up at him. She took his face into her hands and pulled him down to her. This kiss was warm and sweet as ever, sending a rush of her true love magic rushing through her system—but no pulse of electricity; no waves of rainbow-tinted light.
As the strains of Mulan singing Do You Hear What I Hear filled the otherwise quiet diner, Emma came to realize they were dealing with a foe more formidable than any of them had expected.
~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~
It was a rather demoralized group that trudged back into Granny's a couple hours later. Sleepy sang "Deck the Halls" in between yawns, but otherwise silence reined. They'd yet to find a cure for their musical malady.
This "Christmas" was an odd custom, Killian thought to himself as he slid into a booth and then promptly laced his fingers with his wife's. It was purported to be a happy time, full of magic and merriment, but the residents of Storybrooke regarded it nearly as drudgery.
Then there was this "Santa Claus" fellow. Per Swan, he was said to be the very embodiment of the Christmas spirit—both jolly and benevolent.
Having just met the man, he could vouch for the jolly part, but benevolent…that was far more up for debate.
They'd no more than determined True Love's Kiss was not a solution to this particular curse than Belle had burst into the diner, book in hand (singing "Jingle Bell Rock" under her breath—an odd song, that).
"I think I know who Santa is in Storybrooke!" she'd announced. "You know that guy, Kris who runs the North Pole Ice Rink? It's got to be him! Think about it, he's got a long white beard, his laugh sounds like 'ho, ho, ho' and he's always warning trouble-makers that he's keeping a list and checking it twice."
"That does sound like Santa," Henry agreed.
"Now that we've presumably found our villain, what do we propose to do about the situation?" Killian asked, idly caressing Emma's hand with his thumb.
"I don't think he's a villain, exactly," Belle said, brow furrowed. "Maybe…if we just, I don't know, asked him nicely he'll lift the curse for us."
Regina tutted and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure jolly old St. Nick's just going to do what we want because we asked nicely."
Emma sighed deeply. "Well it's worth a shot. Don't hear anyone else coming up with a better solution."
And so they'd walked to the ice rink and discovered that Kris Kringle was indeed the Santa fellow they were in search of. They'd walked in the door of the establishment to be greeted by a large number of very small men—elves, Swan had called them—all singing "Here Comes Santa Claus" as a man with a long white beard, rosy cheeks, a rotund belly and a permanent look of good humor came forward to greet them.
Most unfortunately, the Evil Queen had been quite correct. While Santa had laughed merrily, he'd flat out refused to accede to their request, insisting the terms of the curse were quite absolute. The compulsive singing would only come to an end when the town had achieved sufficient Christmas spirit and come to accept and embrace the holiday at hand.
And so, thwarted again, they'd returned to the diner to plot a new strategy.
"Hark the herald angels sing," the fairies began from the other side of Granny's.
"Not to state the obvious," Leroy began, "but True Love's Kiss didn't work; confronting Santa didn't work; we're about to strike out."
"How about you keep your unhelpful comments to yourself, dwarf?" Regina snarled.
"Watch it sister," Leroy returned, "you can take your attitude and shove it up your…"
Emma slashed the air with her hand; just in time, it would seem. The queen seemed on the point of forming a fireball. "Not helping guys."
Killian wrapped an arm around Emma's shoulders, and she slumped against him with a sigh. "Perhaps we didn't get the result we hoped from our confrontation with Santa Claus, but it is possible that we obtained a solution to our problem none the less."
Emma turned toward him. "What do you mean?"
"Well," he answered, smiling down at her. "Santa did offer us a way to break the curse. We simply need to embrace the spirit of this Christmas. Perhaps it wasn't what we planned, but it would seem the choice is simple: either we follow the demands of the curse, or we learn to live with the constant barrage of musical offerings from this town's citizens."
~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s
"Just a little to the left, David" Mary Margaret said, stepping back and tilting her head to the side. "No, back to the right, but just a tiny bit…there! Perfect."
"Okay folks," Leroy said, grin on his face, "ready to light it up?"
A chorus of cheers greeted him as he put the plug into the socket.
Emma grinned as she heard the delighted gasp of her pirate husband who was holding her close to him on their couch. "Swan!" he breathed. "You've the daftest customs in your land; who would think to bring a tree inside and decorate it? I must admit, however, that draped with the baubles and festive lights it's a wonder to behold."
She leaned over and kissed his cheek before settling back with her head on his shoulder. "Yeah, it certainly is."
It had been decided that Killian's idea was the only real solution to the town's problem. Regina and Leroy had objected at first, insisting that it set a bad precedent, bowing to Yuletide terrorists, but in the end, they'd been overruled.
Henry had been so excited, he'd immediately started planning, calling the new mission "Operation Reindeer". How could Emma deny her son when he was so enthusiastic? And really, what was so bad about Christmas anyway? Why had they all been so insistent not to so much as put up a string of Christmas lights?
In the end, getting into the Christmas spirit herself, Emma had offered the Swan-Jones house as a meeting place and begun planning a Christmas party, the likes of which Storybrooke had never seen.
Emma smiled, burrowing deeper into her husband's side as her mom and Regina put the last touches on the tree. She had to admit, this was kind of…nice. There'd been a spirit of joy and anticipation that had settled over the whole town as everyone pitched in to show Christmas that when they invited someone in and held a party in its honor, they did a proper job of it.
As the talking, laughing and merry-making continued long into the night, Emma suddenly realized something. "Killian, I haven't heard a single person sing a carol in about three hours!"
He kissed her softly. "It would appear you've broken yet another curse, love, though I'd never doubt you. There's not a curse in any realm that's a match for you."
"Not me," Emma said, looking around at her family and friends, "us. All of us."
"Be that as it may," Killian said, affixing a sprig of mistletoe onto his hook and holding it above them. "You're still bloody brilliant. Now, if I'm to understand correctly, there is a tradition in this realm related to the weed on my hook. In the spirit of Christmas, I believe we really must comply."
"Oh, you think so, do you?"
"Most assuredly."
She laughed, reaching up with both arms and pulling him down to her. He came more than willingly, his lips curved into a delighted smile as she thoroughly and enthusiastically fulfilled the requirements of standing beneath the mistletoe.
"So, pirate," she whispered, lips still against his. "If I remember right, we were in the middle of something when the town burst in on us this morning. What do you say we wrap this party up and get back to that?"
His smile turned decidedly wicked. "I'd say of all the brilliant ideas you've had today, that is most definitely your best."