Merry Christmas, Swan

Emma Swan was not sentimental. She did not hang onto relics from her past. She did not get choked up at the end of romantic movies. She did not cry when things ended. Her entire childhood was summed up into one plain white box.

Nor did she much care for the holidays. When she was growing up, Thanksgiving and Christmas especially were just reminders of the family she didn't have. Each holiday that she spent in group homes consisted of a quiet meal shared with the other kids who had nowhere else to go and the house staff who would much rather be with their own families than working another double shift. Or else they were spent in foster homes with families that were not hers, and though some of them tried to make her feel like one of them, Emma knew she didn't belong at their holiday table.

So it shouldn't have bothered her when Killian said that he'd be away for Christmas. He had to take Dr. Whale to Boston on the Jolly Roger to pick up medical supplies. Somehow, ever since they had returned to the Underworld, the curse on the town line remained. Anyone who crossed was turned into a tree. As Emma didn't cast that part of the curse, she had no way of removing it and Rumpelstiltskin had run out of his magic potion that enabled Storybrooke residents to cross the town line unharmed. The hospital was running low on everything from bandages to Morphine. There was no other option. The Jolly Roger was the only solution they had left.

Emma knew it was important work and she was proud of Killian for the part he played in saving the town yet again, but she felt his absence more profoundly than usual. Emma had just brought him back from the Underworld. It made sense that she would be nervous to let him leave again; nervous that she wouldn't see him again. But that wasn't it. After all these years, Emma wanted Christmas. A real Christmas with the man she loved. The man she fought through hell to be with.

But she didn't say anything when he left. Emma could tell by the crease of his brow that Killian was not fooled. Emma knew that he could tell something was bothering her, but she would not be the one to add to his concern. Emma did insist, however, in giving him his ring back. Just for the trip.

"Come home to me." she said, slipping the ring and the chain from her own neck and placing it around his. He kissed her deeply, his hand on her cheek. He assured her that he would be home shortly after the New Year.

So here she was, on Christmas Eve, surrounded by her family; by a love she had craved all her childhood, yet still she felt a loneliness. A longing for her pirate. Though she had never been one for the holidays, it just wasn't the same without Killian there.

"Here, Mom. I got you some hot chocolate." Emma thanked Henry and took the drink from him. She waved her hand absentmindedly over the cup, the cinnamon stick swirled around.

Henry placed a hand on her wrist. The cinnamon stick stopped moving and Emma looked up at him. "He's going to be fine, Mom." Henry gave his mother's hand a squeeze.

Emma took a deep breath. "I know, kid." She smiled and hugged him, "Thanks."

The party reached full swing not long thereafter. Regina and Robin became more and more ensconced in a corner of the room before excusing themselves and heading back to Regina's house. David became exceedingly boisterous after his third spiked eggnog; his party hat sitting askew atop his head. Mary Margaret had put Neal to bed in one of Emma's spare rooms long ago. She was not drinking, but was just as giggly and boisterous as her husband. Everyone was in such high spirits, Emma smiled and tried to join in the festivities. At times her laugh was genuine. At times her smile was not forced. But Killian never left her mind. She wondered, always, where he was, what he was doing and if he was safe.

Eventually, the party wound down. Regina and Robin had long since disappeared. Mary Margaret gathered her sleeping son and, after giving her daughter a strong hug, followed her happily inebriated husband out the door. Henry bid her goodnight as well and headed upstairs to his bedroom.

With a sigh, Emma looked around. The house was not nearly as disastrous as she thought it would be. Though she was fairly exhausted, Emma wasn't ready to head into her bedroom alone again so instead she moved to the kitchen and began to do the dishes. As she finished loading the last of the dessert plates into the dishwasher, she saw snowflakes falling outside the window above the kitchen sink. As she watched them falling she remembered that time about a year ago; her first snow with Killian. They had walked through the streets of Storybrooke with cups of hot chocolate from Granny's. Killian still wore his long pirate's coat back then. They had only just started dating and she was not used to him yet. She had always known Killian was interested in her, but she had no idea how much. Back then, Emma figured Killian was like every other man she had ever met; she figured he saw her as merely another conquest. She thought he was more interested in the chase; in claiming her as a prize.

Never had she been more wrong.

Emma had just put the detergent in the dishwasher and was about to press the start button when there came a knock at the door. Emma furrowed her brow and slowly removed her yellow dish gloves. It was nearly midnight. Had David or Mary Margaret forgotten something?

Emma crossed to the front door and opened it. He had snow in his hair and that familiar, brilliant smile on his face. Emma's breath caught in her chest and she gripped the door for support.

"Hello, Swan." he said.

"You... you weren't supposed to be back until next week." Emma said quietly, hardly daring to believe what was right in front of her eyes.

Killian's smile grew wider. "As it turns out, Dr. Whale is quite a good sailor. We acquired the medicine and sailed back as quickly as-"

Emma cut him off by throwing her arms around him and kissing him fiercely. He tasted like warmth and love and the slightest hint of rum. She backed up, letting Killian cross over the threshold. He closed the door behind him and spun so that he was gently pressing Emma against the front door. She pulled him closer, kissing him with even more ferocity. He was here. Killian was home.

Killian broke the kiss after a minute to catch his breath.

"Merry Christmas, Swan." he whispered.