A/N: This is a birthday fic for my lovely friend escapistfiction317704. I'm going to split it into two parts because it got really really long!


"You have got to be kidding me," Regina deadpanned, glaring at Emma before looking up at the very old, very unappealing cabin in front of them, the same way everyone else was doing, mouths agape. Regina always did have a way of voicing what everyone else was too polite to say out loud. The dark wood house with creepy, frosted-over windows was covered in a fresh layer of snow, jagged icicles hanging from the eaves doing nothing to improve its somewhat decrepit-looking appearance. Well, crap.

"I'm sure it's lovely inside!" Mary Margaret chirped brightly, smiling hopefully at everyone. "And you said it has a hot tub, so there's that, right Emma?"

Emma winced as a wave of apprehension washed over her and combined with the guilt she was already feeling, since she had been responsible for booking the cabin for their group ski trip and apparently had completely blown it.

"Guys, I'm really, really sorry," Emma said, grimacing. "Let's get inside and get warmed up, and I'll call the rental agency and see if anything else is available." It was already almost dinnertime, the daylight waning into a soft purple glow, and the temperature was dropping quickly.

The guys, who were carrying the suitcases and duffle bags, all exchanged worried glances before filing in line behind the ladies as they crowded around the door. Emma pressed the code she had been given into the combo box and it popped open, revealing the housekey. Inserting it into the lock, she held her breath and prayed silently that it was better inside than it looked from the outside.

The door creaked loudly as it opened, as if no one had been inside for ages, or worse - that the place was haunted. It was dark inside and smelled musty, but as they all crowded inside the entryway, flicking on the lights and looking around, a collective sigh of relief escaped everyone's lips. The inside was clean and tidy at least, decorated quaintly with antique skis and vintage mountain prints hanging on the walls. In the corner of the adjoining living room there was the giant stone fireplace that had been featured in the online listing, a large bearskin rug lying in front of it.

"It's not all bad," David said, dropping his suitcase. "If you like that vintage cabin sort of thing, than this is definitely it."

"I wonder if there are any old books!" Belle exclaimed, looking hopeful.

"I think it's quite charming," Robin added, earning him a very skeptical look from Regina.

"Works for me," Killian added, smiling reassuringly at Emma. He brushed past her as he made his way further into the house and she felt instant nervous energy coursing through her at the brief contact of his body against hers. "As long as the heat works, it'll do nicely."

Emma bristled at his attempt to console her. Killian Jones, the only single male in their little company and unarguably one of the hottest men alive, was irritating as sin. Or sinfully irritating. Either way, she didn't want anything to do with him, and she wished he would just stop it already with the suave compliments and gentlemanly overtures. She thought she had made it clear a long time ago that she was not interested, but the man didn't seem to take a hint, or care that she continually rebuffed him. Perhaps he just liked a challenge, but she suddenly felt the need to remind him that she was one challenge he would never overcome.

Averting her eyes from his attractive, scruffy face and soulful blue eyes, she dug in her purse for her cell phone. "Are you guys sure? I can call the rental agency, see if they can get us moved somewhere close by."

"Emma, it's fine, really. We're just here for the weekend, we can make the best of it," Mary Margaret said, placing her hand on her shoulder. "Let me find the thermostat and get the heat cranked up."

"Oi! Where's the luggage go?" Will asked, banging in through the door behind them.

Emma pulled up the rental agency's site on her phone as she addressed the group. "According to the listing, there should be 3 queen bedrooms on the first floor and two single rooms upstairs," she said, looking up towards the second floor landing.

Regina, dressed impeccably in fur-trimmed down and expensive snow boots, turned sharply down the hallway, probably intending to snag the master bedroom before anyone else could argue - as if they would. The other two couples followed suit, dragging their luggage behind them and leaving her and Killian behind.

"Shall we, love?" Killian asked with a perfectly arched brow, gesturing in the direction of the stairs as he hoisted his bag over his shoulder. Even with his usual leather jacket replaced with a sleek back parka, he was still incredibly attractive, a navy blue scarf playing off his eyes and deepening the color. Her face turned into a frown - she didn't like what he seemed to be implying.

"Oh, brother," Emma groaned under her breath, picking up her own bag and making her way quickly towards the stairs and bounding up them, not bothering to see if he was following her. "It's not like we're going to be rooming together," she emphasized carefully, stopping short at the top of the stairs and turning on the lights. There was no door, only an open loft in front of her with the A-frame roof arching to a point in the middle of the room. Inside were two twin-sized beds clothed in matching plaid quilts, along with an oversized bean bag chair, an ancient picture tube TV on a stand, and a floor lamp in the shape of a tree with wooden branches. "No," she let out breathlessly.

"What is- Oh," Killian said, stopping next to her and looking around in bewilderment.

"The listing said two single rooms, I swear it did," she said, looking frantically at the information on her phone to clarify. Reading through the bed descriptions, she saw that it said, "Two singles upstairs," no mention of whether they were in separate rooms or not. Obviously she had glossed over that part in her haste to read through all of the details. "Shit."

Killian nudged her shoulder with his own, clearing enjoying this little turn of events. "'Salright, Swan. You and I are both adults, we can handle sharing a bedroom for the weekend, don't you think?" He looked way too pleased with himself, and suddenly she wanted to call the listing agency, if only to fix her own personal version of hell. She cannot share a bedroom with this man. Can. Not.

She and Killian had known each other for years now, as they were both part of the same group of friends who had come together in one capacity or another. It was no secret that he had been interested in dating her, as Mary Margaret was all too happy to pass along when they first met through David. But she had been in a relationship with Neal, and then Walsh, and meanwhile Killian had dated Milah and Ariel. They had never both been single at the same time, until now. Somehow that, combined with the fact that he was looking at her that way right now was turning her stomach inside out and making her want to run from the premises, freezing temperatures be damned.

Swallowing thickly, she faced him with as blank of an expression as she could muster. "Totally. Should be fine." She smiled thinly at him, moving into the room. Maybe she should be glad it didn't have a door, it's not like he was going to try anything when someone might hear them.

"Do you have a bed preference?" Killian asked, and Emma's face burned, as if he somehow knew exactly what naughty little thoughts had been drifting through her mind.

"What? Oh, this one's good," she said awkwardly, moving to the farthest bed, the one closest to the windows. Maybe if she could see the beautiful wintry forest scene outside, it would distract her from the extremely hot British male she was trapped with on the inside.

When she dropped her bag and turned around, Killian was grinning at her, looking her over appreciatively as he loosened his scarf and dropped it on the bed with his coat. She was wearing several layers of clothing, but she still felt completely exposed under his penetrating gaze. The flush moved to her chest now, and she was certain pretty soon every inch of her exposed skin would be bright red. She tucked her hands in the back pockets of her jeans nervously.

"Not to worry, love, I won't bite," he said, putting his cell phone and a few other items on the small dresser in between the beds. "Unless you ask me to," he added, winking at her, earning him an eye roll in response.

"Please, can you just...not?" she pleaded with him in annoyance, but that only made his grin wider.

"What?" he asked, slowly stalking towards her, in that way he made a habit of doing, leading with his hips. "Can't handle a little teasing, Swan?" he asked, running the tip of his tongue playfully between his teeth. Emma swore to herself when she realized he had caught her staring at his mouth, his smile growing even brighter if that were possible.

She walked right up to him, her eyes flicking to the dark swath of chest hair that was peeking out of his unbuttoned shirt, pleased when she noticed his eyes widening slightly in surprise. "Oh, Jones," she said, licking her lips slowly and watching as his breath hitched, his pupils darkening. "I'm pretty sure you're the one who couldn't handle it," she said, emphasizing her words with a pat to his chest.

His startled expression turned to a lascivious grin as his eyes flicked down to where her palm was still resting next to his heart, and it was suddenly way too hot in the room for her comfort. Biting her lip and returning her hand to her back pocket, she stepped back, creating some much-needed space in between them, though the air remained thick with tension.

"I'm gonna go check on the others, make sure their bedrooms are OK," she said, not waiting for a response as she ducked her head and quickly made her way past him. When she got to the landing, she turned back and found that he was still standing in the exact same spot, though he had turned his head over his shoulder to watch her as she left.

Emma knew things might be a little tense between them, but she didn't anticipate having to be quite so...close all weekend. She was hoping she could keep some distance between them, pretend like they were just a part of the group and not the only two singles, with the added pressure of well-meaning but pushy friends who constantly barraged her with the argument that they'd be "so perfect together!" Blech. She'd heard that one before. It was exactly what Belle had said when she'd introduced her to Walsh, and that relationship had turned out to be a complete bust. Ugh, she was so done with men right now. Especially the seemingly "perfect" kind.

Of course, she knew that Killian never really claimed to be perfect, had heard all about his past and how he'd lost his entire family over the years until he was eventually alone - just like her. It was the part Mary Margaret liked to emphasize when she argued a case for their compatibility time and time again. But he was still annoyingly charming and successful, not to mention jaw-droppingly attractive. At least she knew he had a strong penchant for rum and a tendency to get wrapped up in gambling - something he only did when they went down to Atlantic City - but nevertheless, a flaw that she could cling to if she ever needed convincing that he was not the perfect man for her, something she seemed to find herself needing a lot of lately.

Downstairs, she found Will and Belle unpacking in one of the bedrooms, and they reported that it was a bit small but comfortable enough for them. Mary Margaret was busy laying out her clothes on the bed. "This is great, really. I think the cabin is super cute and cozy." She smiled at her warmly. Emma could see that the room was again small, but it had a closet and a dresser, and what appeared to be a nice view out the window, looking out towards the front of the house.

"I'm relieved to hear that," Emma said, letting out a heavy sigh as she leaned against the doorframe. She wasn't about to mention to Mary Margaret what the situation was upstairs, knowing it would only lead to excitement and goading. Besides, she knew realistically that their chances of getting moved to another cabin were slim at best. "I would be happy to call the rental agency, but I'm not sure what else would be available over a holiday weekend. Where's David?" she asked, suddenly noting his absence.

"He went out to the car to get some more stuff," Mary Margaret told her. David was always on top of things, which made him handy to have around.

"OK, well, I had better check with the queen. You know if Regina's not happy then no one else will be," she said with an eye roll, sharing a chuckle with her friend.

Turning at the bend in the hallway, she made her way to what she assumed must be the master bedroom, and knocked at the door, even though it was already open.

"Yes?" Regina called, and Emma walked inside. She wasn't afraid of Regina, not really, they were friends. It's just that the woman had the unnerving ability to make everyone feel as though they should be bowing down before her and begging her mercy.

"Hey Regina. I was just checking to make sure everyone is OK with their rooms," she notified her as she entered the large, most elegantly furnished room in the house. A huge four-poster bed sat in the middle of the room, and there was an adjoining bathroom, this one with its own bathtub. From the windows, she could see a lovely view of the snow-covered mountainside, and there was even a private door out to the deck where the hot tub was located. Emma had to hold her tongue to keep the groan from coming out, miffed as she was with her own circumstances.

Regina sniffed, running her fingers over the top of the dresser and checking for dust. "Well, it's certainly not the Ritz Carlton, but I suppose it will do," she said, and Emma smirked.

Robin caught her eye and smiled back at her, shaking his head softly. "It'll do nicely, Emma, and we're very grateful that you were able to find us a place on such short notice." Robin was always such a sweetheart, she sometimes wondered how in the world he put up with Regina, though she knew he seemed to bring out the best in her.

"I guess I'm the only one who's unsatisfied, but that's fine. I can live with it," she said, shrugging her shoulders.

"What do you mean?" Regina asked, her expression turning concerned.

"Oh, it's just that I thought the listing said there were two single bedrooms upstairs, but there's just two single beds in one room."

"Oh?" Regina asked, a smug smirk splitting her face as she raised a cool eyebrow. "You mean you and Killian...?" She waved her hand in the air.

"Yeah, we have to sleep in the same room," she answered, crossing her arms over her chest and rolling her eyes. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

"Nothing you can't handle," Regina said, still smiling, as she shrugged a shoulder. She and Robin exchanged a look and Emma fought the urge to groan again.

"Right, well, I'll let you two settle in, I've still got some stuff to get from the car." She turned away from their shared smug expressions before they could start teasing her and headed back out to the main entryway. She passed David on the way to the front door, his arms full of kitchen items as he headed in that direction.

She grumbled to herself the whole way to the car, knowing it was all her fault anyway for not paying enough attention to the listing. She had made the classic mistake of getting drawn in by a cheap pricetag on what was one of the few cabins still available for this weekend, and now it was coming back to bite her in the ass. And all the while she knew that Killian was probably eating this up, as everyone else would be, too, as soon as they all found out. Emma kicked her car tire as she waited for the trunk to open.

"Ow!" she said, wincing. That was a dumb idea, even in her snow boots, her toes still felt the sting.

"Need a hand, love?" She jumped, she hadn't even heard him come out there. Fighting the urge to groan yet again (Come on, Emma, time to be a big girl!) she turned towards the owner of the offending voice.

"Sure. I have a few more things that need to go in the kitchen, as well as my toiletries and things," she said, fishing in the car.

"Hand me whatever's heaviest. I'm at your service," Killian said with a waggle of his dark eyebrows, his arms spread wide as he waited for her to hand him something, and this time she couldn't help but smile genuinely. He was such a dork.

"Oh, so now you're going to be a gentleman?" she asked, grabbing the box of kitchen items and shoving it into his chest. His hand covered hers as she handed him the box, and she had to tug it free of his grasp as he smirked at her.

"I'm always a gentleman, love," he answered with a wink, turning and walking towards the house. She couldn't help but stare after him as he walked away. My, those jeans fit him well, she thought as she bit her lower lip, staring at his ass.

"I'm not your love," she called after him futilely, watching as his shoulders shook with laughter. It was an ongoing joke between them that apparently never got old, for him at least.

Dumping her stuff upstairs, she came down to find Killian crouched in front of the giant stone fireplace, and she made her way towards him. He was balling up pieces of newspaper that had been left next to the fireplace, tucking them under the stack of logs on the hearth. She watched his forearms flex as he worked, his skin tan where his shirt has been pushed up to expose it.

"You know how to do...that?" she asked, surprised.

He turned when he heard her voice, smiling confidently at her, and she couldn't help but glance down his shirt at all that chest hair, his henley unbuttoned just a tad more than what was considered normal. "What? Light a fire? Of course, Swan. I may not have been a boy scout, but I've managed to learn a few survival skills over the years."

She was impressed, Killian didn't strike her as the outdoorsy type, he just always seemed so much more cosmopolitan to her. Then again, they'd never been to the mountains together before, and he always did manage to astonish her.

"You shouldn't be that surprised, Swan. I know how to turn up the heat," he said gruffly, lighting a match, the flame dancing in his eyes. Something about the way he said it combined with the purposeful manner in which his hands moved made a shiver run up her spine. Fuck. She was in so much trouble.

She rolled her eyes at him, desperate to lighten the mood. "Oh yes, Killian. You're so hot, everybody knows it. Thank you for informing me."

He dropped his gaze to the logs as he held the flame under the newspaper and it began to darken the edges, the blaze spreading. When it appeared to be under way, he stood up, facing her.

"You've got it all wrong, Swan," he said, shaking his head. "It isn't about me being hot. It's about making sure one's partner is well taken care of," he said, softer now, as his eyes looked at her imploringly and his hand reached out - almost, but not quite touching her arm. They were standing on top of the bearskin rug, the fire crackling now, and her breath caught as she felt a strange sense of premonition, as if something momentous would take place, right in this very spot.

Caught in his gaze, she had to shake herself from her trance, suddenly desperate for some space between them. She snorted most inelegantly at him, using sarcasm to push him away. "That's, uh...great Killian," she said with a teasing smile. "I'm sure your 'partners' really appreciate that."

His face fell, and with a tired smile, he turned away, leaving her bereft of a clever comeback. Something tugged at the pit of her stomach, but she didn't want to stay and explore what it was. What she wanted was to get as far away from Killian Jones as possible.

Entering the kitchen, she saw that not only was everything unpacked, but Mary Margaret and David were already started on making dinner (they were having tacos) while Regina and Robin were busy making a pitcher of margaritas for everyone. Belle was setting the table and Will was putting out the chips and salsa.

"Wow! Look at you guys, so industrious, I like it." She smiled at the group, suddenly feeling useless. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Emma, you've had a rough week at work and you took care of planning our ski trip for us, why don't you have a drink and relax for a bit? We've got it covered," David instructed her. She happily accepted the margarita that Robin handed her and sat down at a barstool, dipping a chip into the salsa.

"Thanks! I'm just glad everyone could make it."

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of talking and laughter, Emma trying to keep as much distance as she could between her and Killian. She'd managed to do it pretty well until they were at the card table after dinner playing Hearts. They both reached for another card at the same time and when their fingers touched, sending a bolt of electricity through her, she jerked her hand back quickly as if she'd been stung. Killian just looked embarrassed, scratching behind his ear which had turned pink at the tip. His discomfort made her embarrassed too, but she figured anything was better than encouraging him.

Later, everyone decided to go in the hot tub except Killian, and she was grateful for that, because she wasn't sure if she would be capable of not staring at the man in his swimwear. She stayed in the bubbling, hot water until she was alone at last, leaning her head back and sighing contentedly as she looked up at the twinkling stars in the inky night sky and her breath clouded in the air. Perhaps he'd already be asleep by the time she came inside.

"Mind if I join you, Swan?" Shit. What was he doing here?

She panicked a little bit, sitting upright, as she noticed Killian walking out in a white bathrobe, tied at the waist. "I thought you didn't want to go in the hot tub."

Killian shrugged his shoulders, stopping in front of the hooks opposite the hot tub, where her towel was hanging. "People are allowed to change their minds now and again, are they not?"

"Oh, I suppose so," she mumbled. Emma sighed, watching carefully as he undid the ties of his robe, her whole body tense. He had better be wearing something underneath that thing.

He grinned at her over his shoulder as he lowered the robe, inch by miserable inch. Her heart raced as she stood poised to jump from the hot tub, ready to flee at the site of his naked flesh. Naked flesh which she had absolutely no intention of getting an eyeful, no matter how her traitorous body was responding to him.

Relief washed over her as she took in his black swim trunks, air whooshing out of her lungs. He climbed carefully into the hot tub, settling down opposite from her and running a hand through his hair as he groaned appreciatively. She didn't enjoy that guttural sound, nope, not one bit. It was bad enough that her nipples were hard from the cold night air, the last thing she needed was a man oozing liquid sex from every pore making noises like that. She crossed her arms over her chest angrily, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Killian, completely unaffected, sat back and looked her over, his toes brushing against her ankle in the small space and causing her to feel something like panic. With his hair wet, he looked impossibly attractive, his blue eyes bright in the darkness and his lips flushed and pink. A tremor of want rushed through her, but she was so riddled with fear and uncertainty that she immediately rejected it.

"So, Swan, how are things? I feel like we haven't properly spoken to one another in a long time."

Emma sighed, looking at him warily. "Look, Killian, I know what this is...this- you- you know, trying to bond with me." His brow furrowed as took in her pained annoyance. "So save your breath, I'm not in the mood." Not in the mood for another failed relationship, that's for sure. "Enjoy the hot tub, I'm going to bed."

Hurt and disappointment clouded his handsome features as she rose from the tub, climbing quickly out and wrapping her towel around herself. She tried not to feel guilty as she left him out there alone, but failed miserably, shivering from the transition out of the heat and into the cold air, the water coating her body chilling almost immediately. She found herself groaning in frustration as she made her way to the bathroom for a shower, a war waging within her mind as she considered her interaction with Killian. Everyone else had retired to bed already, and she sighed in relief when she found the bathroom empty.

She readied herself for bed as quickly as possible, hoping to avoid Killian altogether. They needed to be up early to go skiing anyway, so he should understand. They weren't even supposed to be sharing a bedroom, it's not like she owed him pleasant conversation or something.

She continued to grumble to herself all the way upstairs, putting her things away and getting her ski outfit ready for the morning. Pulling back the covers on her bed, she noticed surprisingly that there was only one thin blanket underneath the comforter. When she heard Killian turning off the lights downstairs and climbing the stairway, she jumped in bed, pulling the covers up around her and getting herself settled, her back to the entry of the loft. Brrrr, it was cold.

She stilled as she heard him come in, barely resisting the urge to turn her head and see what he was wearing to sleep in. Even breaths, pretend you're asleep, she told herself as she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Goodnight, Swan," she heard him whisper as he switched the lamp off, but she didn't respond.

She lay there in the darkness, listening to his bed creak as he got settled and as she shivered she hoped he wouldn't be able to hear her moving. Socks were helping her toes to stay warm, but she was only wearing thin cotton pajama pants and a tank top. Why in the world hadn't she thought to bring a pair of flannel pajamas? Or fleece? Probably because she didn't own any, but still. She always cranked the heat all the way up in her apartment and slept under a down comforter, so those weren't a necessity.

"Oooooh," she heard herself saying as she shivered again. Was that a draft coming in from the window? Why had she thought it was a good idea to sleep closest to the damn thing again?

Rolling over, she tugged at her covers, tucking them in tight around her body and drawing her knees up almost to her chest. The bed coils complained noisily as she moved, and she knew if Killian wasn't already asleep he was most definitely lying there listening to her.

"You alright there, love?" she heard Killian whisper loudly.

"Fine. Just fine," she gruffed in his direction. Fluffing her pillow, she curled herself tightly into a ball and managed to gather a bit of warmth, exhaustion from a day of travel and a bit of alcohol weighing heavy in her bones. Soon, she drifted off into a restless sleep, snow falling in the darkness around the cabin and blanketing it like frosting.