December 24, 2010

If Emma was an ice queen, Elsa was the Ice Queen. People had often told Emma that she was prickly, but Elsa took frostiness to a new level. It was one of the many reasons they had bonded. But it was this perceived frigidity that made this particular Christmas party a surprise. Elsa had invited their entire friend group over for an ugly sweater party...and to meet her new boyfriend, Will. Since neither Emma nor Ruby had heard of this development before, there had been some shock when they found out at lunch earlier in the week. And of course, they had to make sure he was good enough for their friend.

That's how Emma found herself at Storybrooke's only consignment shop, frantically looking for an appropriately hideous sweater. Belle sat behind the cash register quietly folding some of the new items the store had received. When Emma's and the shopkeeper's phones went off, indicating a mass text, both women jumped and dropped the items in their hands.

Elsa: Hello, all my lovelies! It turns out that my apartment's radiator broke, and my super can't get anyone to fix it until Monday. But I still want to have time to hang out with you all and introduce you to Will, so the party's still on! The catch is the theme is now tropical, so be ready with your finest warm-weather attire. See you all at 8!

Emma sighed, and then put the sweater she'd been eyeing back on the rack. Looking over at Belle, she saw the other woman shaking her head. "Typical, huh?"

Belle nodded. "It'll be more challenging to get Mer to go to a party that doesn't involve sweaters and wool. Those Scots."

Laughing, Emma shook her head. Belle turned to her and tilted her head. "Are you bringing Jefferson?"

"Oh, that's been over for ages. It didn't really go anywhere."

"Ah, so are you and Killian...you know...now?"

"What?! No, we're just friends."

Looking doubtful, Belle agreed hesitantly. "Well, I'll see you at the party!"

"Sounds good. Make sure you drag your pasty Scottish girlfriend along."

Emma pulled up to Elsa's house in her yellow Bug. Clutching her coat over her summer clothing, she knocked loudly as sounds of merriment echoed through the door. Having done the courtesy knock, Emma pushed the door open. Hurrying toward her and the door was the one and only Killian Jones. And given the extreme warmth of the house, he wasn't wearing a shirt.

Emma's mouth fell open as she stopped and stared at him.

Over the last year, Emma had learned many things about Killian. He hated bologna. He was passionate about sailing, and he loved the Pittsburgh Pirates. (She'd asked him why once, and he'd replied in that ridiculous, melodramatic way of his: "Good form, Swan. They have good form. Besides, who doesn't love a bit of nautical cheer?")

But somehow, having known each other for three years and having been good friends for a year of that time, she had never once seen him shirtless.

Oh. My. God.

Emma had realized on some level that her friend was an extremely attractive man. I mean, I have eyes, she thought. Women (and some men, let's be real) turned to look at him whenever they were out, shooting jealous glances at her.

But dear lord, she had never seen Killian Jones shirtless. Those abs, and that chest hair…

"Swan! Are you in there? Let me take your coat!" He was smirking, that arrogant bastard.

Realizing she'd been salivating over the man who had become one of her best friends, she resolutely closed her mouth and nodded at him. Emma allowed Killian to help her remove her coat, leaving her in shorts and a tank top over her bikini. "Wow, Elsa was not kidding about the temperature in here."

"No, lass, that she wasn't. I have no complaints."

"I'm sure you don't. I bet you love all the attention you're getting, Jones."

"Ah, but I pine only for you, Swan." He waggled his eyes teasingly at her.

Although her heart raced at his light-hearted jesting, she rolled her eyes at him. "Sure, buddy. You say that now. Until some 'lovely unforgettable lass' whisks you away, and you're not around to fetch my drinks anymore." She grinned at him.

"I see how it is! Here I thought I detected jealousy, but now I know. It's all about me providing you with beverages," he sighed dramatically, his hand over his chest, the humor lighting his eyes giving away his amusement.

"You know it!" He chuckled and gently grabbed her arm, guiding her to the kitchen and the rest of the party.

No, her traitorous heart didn't jump as soon as he touched her.

Stupid. So stupid. Emma had allowed herself to be goaded into consuming far too much tropical-themed jungle juice. Now her head was spinning and she was so hot. Sinking into the couch that she realized she'd be sharing only with Elsa's cat, Olaf, she removed her tank top. She leaned her head over onto the armrest - just a few minutes of lying down and she'd be fine. She heard the sound of someone rounding the corner and looked up to see Killian staring down at her, an expression she'd never seen before on his face. Concern was there...and awe? Telling herself she was imagining things, she shook her head.

That was a mistake. Groaning, Emma closed her eyes in endeavour to keep the room still. Killian came over to her and knelt on the floor next to her. "You going to be okay, love?"

"I think I'm already dead."

"You're far too attractive and have too much color to be a corpse."

Emma groaned again. "Then why do I feel like this?"

"Well, love, that would be the copious amounts of alcohol you consumed," he supplied helpfully.

"Thanks, genius." Her voice came out harsh and sarcastic.

"Seriously, Emma, will you be okay? Do you want me to see you home?"

Considering for a minute, she finally acquiesced. "Yeah, get me home."

"Of course, love."

Emma laid curled up in her bed sipping her water. After the taxi dropped them off at her apartment, Killian had not only taken care to make sure she'd gotten in safely, but had made sure she wasn't too intoxicated to make it into her bed. He'd poured water for her while she'd changed into her pyjamas and allowed her to dig out the pair of his sweat pants she had in the closet from Halloween when he'd been the drunk one.

She'd handed him the pants and he'd smiled, realizing he had held onto them. He'd decided to crash on her couch, as he was a touch too tipsy to drive. They'd go get their cars in the morning. So Emma contemplated the man currently snoring on her couch.

Killian was kind and understanding. He didn't push her when she wanted to be alone. He was fun, but not so much fun they got into trouble. He'd cut down on his drinking considerably over the last four years. He loved watching Hot Fuzz and Chopped with her. The Irishman was there for her when she needed. Somehow, he'd become her best friend. And today she'd found out he had an insanely hot body. Emma sighed, remembering the beads of sweat snaking their way down his naked torso earlier that evening.

Damn it. She was fairly certain she had a crush.

Going out into the living area to refill her water glass, Emma stopped as she heard Killian making a whining sound in his sleep. Walking over to make sure he wasn't in the throes of a nightmare, she smiled when she say a slight grin on his sleeping face. He stretched out, drawing her eyes to the defined muscles of his stomach, arms, and shoulders. She gulped and hurried back to her room.

God, she was screwed.