Summary: Emma Swan is not a grinch, she just doesn't like Christmas. Her roommate Killian Jones however, cannot wait to decorate the flat. They agree that he can do absolutely whatever he wants the moment Thanksgiving ends, but when tragedy strikes it might be up to Emma to save the holiday she has so many issues with.

Emma Swan was NOT a grinch or Scrooge , contrary to popular opinion. Just because she was apathetic to christmas did not means that she was a heartless monster ready to steal all the christmas lights- she just didn't particularly like the christmas lights. Or the trees or the stockings and fine she didn't like christmas but she wasn't sure many people with her childhood would.

Emma had been in the foster system- bounced back and forth and back and forth for eighteen years of her life. She was never with a family twice for the holidays, more often than not more than one between thanksgiving and the christmas. No foster parent was paid well for bringing in children, so gifts were an exception rather than the rule, and they were never as nice as what her schoolmates had. She found out santa wasn't real right when she was four, an angry foster father with an affinity for menthol cigarettes and violence had been furious with the fact that he didn't get credit for buying her a set of pencils with his money. People always talked about the magic of the season, but magic wasn't something Emma had ever encountered before, and definitely wasn't something she believed in. Christmas was full of painful memories of houses that could have been homes and houses that definitely should not have been homes but haunted her all the same, and of course it was a reminder that she didn't have a real family to go home to after twenty eight years.

Killian Jones, however, had a completely different way of viewing things.

Emma had met Killian through David, her best friend and partner on the force, who already had a wife and a kid and life figured out. So he clearly wasn't a roommate option when Emma found the most perfect apartment complex in the world with only a two bedroom flat available. Killian Jones however, was a great match. He was David's best friend from college and was looking to relocate from England to the states to be closer to his brother, Liam, who was in New York City. Killian secured a job in Boston, three and a half hours away from Liam and right next door to his best friend. He just needed the apartment.

Emma learned that Killian was raised by Liam after both their parents died, and that he'd been very poor growing up and had struggled a lot through his childhood. It seemed that they had plenty in common, so Emma was more than happy to let him move in.

"You haven't even met him," David said, shocked when Emma gave him the news. "He could be terrible or creepy or-"

"He's your best friend. You trust him, I trust him. I need this apartment, so he can move in when he gets here."

And so it was that Emma Swan first met Killian Jones mid January, with an empty flat and just a few boxes to her name, hoping that two orphans could find a bit of family in eachother.

And they did- from the moment he stepped in the two had gotten along well, and thus surprisingly began the greatest friendship of their lives, even if it was always so close to crossing the line of something more. But after losing so many possible families in the past, Emma knew better than to gamble with the loved ones she had left, which consisted of David, Mary Margret, Ruby, August, and Killian.

Killian of course was the one she saw the most of, and it wasn't just because they lived together. She wanted to be with him, and they had plenty of little traditions to carry them through the week, both needing their fix of takeout and moaning to sympathetic ears and celebrating the wins of the year such as his book's eight week run on the New York Times bestseller list and her raise at the police department.

It started small, Kilian one night arriving home from a bad date to find Emma watching Star Wars, which started friday movie nights. Emma had once walked home to find Mary Margret and David over for supper, thus began Sunday family dinners, which continued with just the two housemates after little Neal was born and sucked away the Nolan's free time. On saturday nights they'd go out and wonder why they weren't getting approached at bars as they chatted to each other leaned into each other drank together and only had eyes for each other. That and one thousand little things that just made being with each other good and safe and nice and homely, and home was not a word Emma used lightly.

Emma was convinced that in the almost year they'd been flatmates she knew everything about Killian, which was why Halloween had been such a surprise.

They were drinking on the floor, the last costume clad child of the apartment complex long gone, but both of them remained in their pirate outfits, Emma's complete with a real sword from Gold's Antique and Thrift Shop, Killian's finished with a long, sweeping leather coat and Emma's black eyeliner.

They had been mid conversation when Killian popped up from the floor, tipsy from the rum he'd been swigging from his skull and bones flask bought specifically for the occasion.

"Swan! Love! It's 11:58!" he exclaimed, running to the closet. "This is excellent news!"

"Why is that?" Emma asked, laughing at the sound of thudding and objects falling as Killian obviously dug through the boxes in the closet. "Hey Captain, what are you- oh no!"

Emma brought her hands to her mouth, shocked to find Killian tangled up in christmas lights, box in tow, with a wreath over his head and little shiny ornaments dropping to the floor around him.

The grandfather clock chimed midnight.

"It's Christmas!" He slurred happily, dropping the wreath to the floor, twisting out of the lights. Emma shook her head, setting down her beer.

"No! No, it's November first!" she argued, picking up the green and red plastic bulbs from the floor.

"Which means it's Christmas," Killian countered. But Emma started throwing the decorations back in the box, labeled CHRISTMAS with one, two, three, four exclamation points.

"Why would you even like Christmas?" she asked, frustratedly trying to get him untangled. "It's depressing for people like us."

Killian frowned.

"Liam and I loved Christmas, best part of the year!" he argued. "Even if we didn't have any money, it was the one time where everyone was nice, everyone wanted to give to the less fortunate, everyone smiled… there would be free ice skating and christmas lights everywhere, and the soup kitchens would have pie. And Liam would always pick out a really good book for me from the library, check it out, wrap it up, and give it to me christmas morning. And I'd read it in a week and he'd return it and it was the greatest part of the holidays."

Emma swallowed. She was not expecting such a sentimental answer, and she was starting to feel like an asshole.

"Look," she explained, collecting the wreath from over his neck, his cheeks and nose pink from the alcohol. "I had the opposite experience. I didn't have a brother or sister. I had August for a very brief amount of time, but not even over the holidays. I got like, pencils and socks. I got yelled at by the foster parents who had too much eggnog and looked at all wrong by my creepy foster uncles. It was not a good time in my life and I can't imagine celebrating those awful moments for two whole months, okay?"

Killian stared at her, finding a little clarity through the rum. Emma wasn't one to divulge personal information about herself, let alone in big huge blocks like she just did, so this Christmas situation had to be pretty dire. He sighed, stepping out of the lights.

"Okay," he frowned. "We don't have to."

But Emma felt so awful she collapsed onto the couch with a groan.

"Okay how about this," she said, peering up at his pathetic dumb beautiful sad face. "The day after thanksgiving, you can put up decorations."

Killian's face immediately lit up.

"Yeah?" he asked, grin growing wider and wider until Emma had to laugh. What a dork.

"Yeah," she said, and suddenly he was on top of her, hugging her tight.

"Anything in the flat?" he asked.

"Yes. But we have to respect thanksgiving as a holiday," she replied. He rolled his eyes.

"Bloody Americans and their turkey. Midnight? The next day? Everything's fair game?"

"Absolutely," she answered, and the joy in his eyes made her think that it could be worth it after all.

Not to mention the warm fuzzy feeling in her stomach and the fluttering of her heart but she focused on the joy because that was a less terrifying thing to think about.

The next month, however, sped by rather quickly, and the threat of christmas lights and holiday cheer was looming. Emma knew for a fact that Killian was already building up a ridiculous collection of decorations, the closet had seven new boxes tucked away behind the little space left for coats, and Killian smirked at her every single time she passed it.

"Just you wait, Swan…" he'd say quietly.

"It's scary enough without the evil muttering under your breath thing," she'd counter.

She was actually relieved when two days before thanksgiving Killian leapt out of his room with a bottle of rum reserved only for the greatest of celebrations.

"I love thanksgiving!" he exclaimed, pouring them both shots. Emma raised an eyebrow, bent over paperwork from the office.

"Some of us have real jobs you know," she said, but took the drink anyway, wincing as the burning liquid ran down her throat. "Some of use don't get to make thousands of dollars after one book and choose to do swork when the moment strikes."

But he ignored her.

"As you know, I do not celebrate thanksgiving, being a loyal servant of the queen. As you also know, I have a brother who is also a loyal servant of the queen. We truly love our queen, Emma, and Liam's wife and his child have never even seen our homeland which is so terribly-"

"Killian, please hurry this up," Emma prompted, scooting her folders away from his splashing rum bottle. Killian grinned.

"Thanksgiving airfare is very cheap, Liam Junior has a week off of school, and I'm going to London with my brother and Elsa for a week!"

Killian took another victory drink and Emma rolled her eyes, but got up to hug him.

"That's great news, Killian. I'm really happy for you."

And she was happy. But he knew why.

"Don't think that you're getting off so easy, Swan," he scolded. "The second I get back this entire place is being covered in holiday cheer. And since our agreement specifically mandated that anything in this apartment was game for decoration…"

He ran into his room and came back with a pile of hideous pink candy cane fabric. It took her a moment to realize that the hideous pink fabric was sewn into a pajama set. A pajama set in her size.

"Oh come on," she complained, but a deal was a deal.

"I expect you to wear those the second the clock strikes twelve. And tell all our mates I'm sorry to dash out. And tell them merry christmas."

In a whirl he was all packed and set to drive to New York, ready to meet his family at their house and then fly back home. Emma would get to spend thanksgiving with her little family and though she was disappointed she wouldn't have her best friend, she was not disappointed that the only christmasy thing she had to worry about was candy cane PJs that were, she had to say, pretty damn soft.

But midnight Thanksgiving morning, Emma got a call that changed everything.

She stole Mary Margret's car, breaking into the Nolan house with her spare keys and scribbling a note to leave on the kitchen table explaining things. They didn't need two cars for last minute grocery shopping and besides, even if they did they would understand. Emma drove straight to New York, not stopping for food water or gas, running on half a red bull David left in the fridge and the adrenaline rushing through her veins.

When she got to the house, the ambulance was still there, though all of the first responders were leaving the scene. Two cars, crumpled and destroyed and bloody, were being prepped for towing, supervised by a police officer. An EMT was wheeling a body bag into the truck.

Emma found Killian and she screamed out his name. He immediately collided into her, sobbing endlessly into her shoulder. They both collapsed onto the ground, Killian no longer able to stand and Emma unable to carry his weight. The sun was just rising and the world kept spinning around them, but time stood still in their little bubble, where she held him and he cried until he ran out of tears.

Anna had taken Liam Jr away from the accident, leaving Killian, Emma and Elsa at the house. Elsa found enough strength to help Emma usher him inside, where they let him nurse a bottle of rum.

Time passed. They slept when they were tired, the outside world losing all meaning. Emma bought food that didn't need to be cooked although Elsa and Killian didn't want to eat. She bought more rum for him, more ice cold vodka for her.

It was two days after Thanksgiving when Elsa began to feel human again, for the sake of her son. She was able to cook, able to talk to family, make calls to friends and lawyers. Killian however, had barely uttered any sound except the weeping that Emma was always present for.

It happened one evening though, it had to eventually. Elsa had gone to take Liam Jr to counseling. Emma was doing dishes when Killian finally spoke.

"Lass. You should go home."

She was surprised to hear him talk, surprised even more when she found that his words didn't slur and he stood before her completely sober. Emma set down the dish and faced him.

"I want to be here with you," she said firmly. "For his funeral. For anything else you need." He scratched that spot behind his ear that he always scratched, and Emma found a little hope that he might be returning to himself again.

But then he said the words that would change everything.

"I don't want you here, Emma."

She was glad she set down the dish because if it had been in her hand it would have smashed to the ground.

"What?" she asked, face falling, heart torn. He sighed, looking to the floor.

"This is the hardest moment of my life, and-"

"And that's why I should be here," she said, but he kept going.

"And you being here is just going to make it so much harder, because I'm in bloody love with you Emma. And I'm emotionally fragile. And I won't be able to stay away like I have been, I won't be able to respect your walls and boundaries and furthermore my heart is already broken and you being here cracks it open more. I want you to stay. But for all the wrong reasons. So I need you to leave. I've packed your things."

Emma couldn't move, frozen in shock. Killian didn't even meet her gaze, he grabbed the bottle of rum from the counter and walked upstairs to his room, slamming the door behind him.

He was her best friend and he wanted her to go.

He was her best friend and he was in love with him.

He was her best friend and nothing in the world made sense anymore. Liam was dead. Killian was dying inside. Everything had been turned upside down and Emma didn't know what to do but what she always did.

She ran.

She got in the car and she drove back to Boston, trying to convince herself that she was leaving because he asked her to, not because her walls were ready to add another ten stories to their height and she wanted to stay away from the hurt and the love and the heartbreak and the possibilities of Killian Jones. She wanted to give him space. She wanted to hold him, to kiss him, to love him back.

When she got to David and Mary Margret's house, it was eleven at night and she stumbled into their living room while they were having their nightly glass of wine.

"Emma!" Mary Margret cried, but before she could ask anything more Emma burst into tears and fell onto the couch, feeling so small and helpless as her friends crossed to her, holding her like they were her parents. She explained the car accident, the call, the two days in New York, everything but Killian's confession. That belonged to her and no one else.

She woke up at five AM the next day, right where she'd landed the night before, but with a blanket and pillow left by Mary Margret. She immediately grabbed her phone, hoping to have some contact from Killian. Nothing.

Not wanting to crowd him during his period of mourning, she chose not to be the one to make contact. It was only a few days later during a night shift that she did get something, a text. She almost dropped her phone trying to open it.

3:31AM 12/1 KILLIAN

I'm going to stay with Elsa for a while. Will send you rent.

Emma wanted to call, to hear his voice, but she knew better. She folded the blanket and set it aside before returning back to her flat, kicking the candy cane pajamas to the floor.

Weeks past and the only messages she got from him were via text, and only when prompted. In a weak moment alone in one of their bars where this time, she got hit on in excess, she shot him a message, hoping she was giving him enough space.

11:01PM 12/10 EMMA

Are you ok? When are you coming home?

One rum and coke later she heard her phone chirp.

11:29PM 12/10 KILLIAN

Helping Elsa pack up the house. Could be a while.

Emma couldn't help but notice that he hadn't mentioned if he was okay or not, which could only mean that no, he definitely wasn't. She thought there was a good chance they'd move, everything had happened right in front of their home. The whole area was a glaring reminder of Liam's last moments, the truck driver who had been given spiked eggnog on accident by a caring family, the entire thing being a huge accident, a huge fuck up that just wasn't fair.

12:22PM 12/20 EMMA

Hope you're okay.

12:24PM 12/20 EMMA

I miss you.

12:31PM 12/20 EMMA

Text me back so I know you're alive.

1:03AM 12/21 KILLIAN

Ok.

Christmas eve rolled around and she had dinner with David and Mary Margret, but christmas day the Nolans were driving to see David's mother, Ruth. Emma had never minded spending Christmas alone so it was a little silly that she was suddenly sad about it now. Her mind wandered back to a blue eyed idiot wrapped in lights with a wreath around his head, wishing he was with her, forcing her to wear candy cane pajamas and decorate a tree. She hoped that he was trying to have a good christmas with Elsa, hoping that he'd pull through with some rum for his family's sake.

1:48PM EMMA 12/25

Merry Christmas. Are you with Elsa?

He responded in seconds.

1:48PM KILLIAN 12/25

No.

Along with the message he attached a photo of just his feet, taken from a hotel room. Emma almost wanted to cry- the entire place was so grim and stark. The wallpaper was torn purple paisley, the TV was playing some news channel. This was not the Killian she knew, this man was defeated and broken.

1:49PM KILLIAN 12/25

Couldn't do it. Couldn't take it.

Emma was going to reply when her phone chirped again.

1:50PM KILLIAN 12/25

Going to sober up then come home tonight.

Her heart raced, and she dropped her phone on her bed, making her way towards the closet. She knew what she had to do, what would make things not right or okay, but as close to right or okay as they could be. She started taking the boxes down, surprised with their weight, laughing at some of the outrageous things that he had picked out. There was a train set and an inflatable rudolph the red nose reindeer, ridiculous things that she knew he'd probably picked out just to annoy her. Sure enough she found that he'd made personalized christmas ornaments from embarrassingly unflattering photos he'd taken of her over the year, but also nice ones of them together- her 28th birthday, his book signing. Important things. Things that someone would do for someone they loved.

Hopefully the same message would be relayed with what she was doing now.

There was a tree set up in the entryway of the complex for decoration, but their landlord was in the virgin islands and Emma assumed she'd either be able to return the thing or claim that it was stolen. It was difficult forcing it into the elevator because no way was she hauling it up the stairs, but she managed to settle it by the window.

Tinsel was everywhere, the tree's weight was 30 percent branches 70 percent decor, she placed her presents for him under the tree, she blew up the damn rudolph even though it barely fit and set up the train and draped lights around the entire room and put the special christmas plate set on the dining room table and hung the stockings and stuffed them with chocolate and set up a fire with the log that released green and red sparks and put on his personal mix tape of christmas music and she even put on the damn candy cane pajamas.

12:07AM 12/26 EMMA

Where are you?

12:14AM 12/26 KILLIAN

Just pulled in. Be right up.

She estimated that it would take three minutes for him to get to the car to the elevator to the apartment, and either her heart completely stopped for those three minutes or it thumped so fast it let out more of a whir than actual beats. She heard the keys jingling in the keyhole, an acoustic version of "All I Want For Christmas Is You" playing in the background, the timing of it all making her feel both lightheaded and sick.

"Someone took the tree from downstairs," his voice rang out. 12:17 exactly. The door shut behind him and he walked into the living room and stopped, eyebrows shooting up, mouth dropped agape. Emma stood in front of him, fists clenched, and prayed to god or santa or whoever was out there that she wouldn't fuck this all up.

"You need Christmas," she stated. He shook his head in awe.

"Emma, I-"

"Liam would have wanted it," she said, knowing if she let him talk she wouldn't have the courage to let this all out. "You can have your rum and you can cry too, but you need Christmas. And I'll give you rum and I'll be there when you cry because you are my family and I love you too, okay? I do love you. I'm in love with you, and you're so dumb for not knowing that you may try to shoo me away like you did in New York but it's not going to happen again. I will chase you with a wreath around my neck and lights and even if it's not Christmas anymore and we missed it by fifteen minutes-"

But she couldn't finish because his lips were crashing against hers, and they were clinging onto each other like the entire universe depended on that one kiss. Killian moaned into it like he'd been waiting for this moment his entire life, and she knew that she'd at least been waiting for it for all of hers. His hands brushed through her long, silky locks and when they parted he gazed at her with eyes that said she was the most wonderful thing in the universe even if she was wearing peppermint candy cane pajamas.

Especially because she was wearing peppermint candy cane pajamas.

"You were supposed to do that over there," Emma breathed, pointing to the mistletoe hanging above the wreaths. Killian let out a low chuckle, and their foreheads met as they stared into the others eyes, never wanting this moment to end.

"Merry Christmas love," he whispered, glancing down to her lips. Emma smiled.

"Not such a bad holiday after all," she replied.

And they kissed and kissed and kissed until everything was as okay as it could be in the world at that moment.

Which was actually… pretty damn great.