A/N – Just a little Thanksgiving fluff! I tried to post this here last night, but I was having some trouble. Oh well, it's here now! Enjoy and let me know what you think!
Under the Weather, Over the Moon
"Stop complaining," Emma begged, her eyes pleading with him to accept the truth of the situation. "There's nothing we can do to change the circumstances."
"I refuse to give up hope," Killian maintained. "We've overcome everything up to this point. We can get by this, too."
Emma rolled her eyes. Her husband sure had a penchant for the dramatic. They had overcome some dangerous situations on their journey to each other, but she would hardly qualify a Thanksgiving dinner with Henry's father and – worse in Killian's mind – grandfather as a dire situation. It just wasn't going to be fun for him.
"You know Henry wants this," Emma began, not hesitating in using his weakness for his loved ones against him. It was really the only way. "And I think we owe Henry some sense of normalcy any time we can give it to him. Don't you?"
He knew what she was doing, but it didn't make it any less effective. Especially because she was right – as she usually was – and he had promised Henry he would make it a great day. "My only objection is that it's at our house. We can't leave early if it's at our house," he pointed out.
She laughed at that. "Yeah, I know," she sighed, reaching for him and pulling him close. "But I always feel safer when we're on our turf."
"I always feel safest when I have you right here in my arms," Killian murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair.
Her heart jumped into her throat and she was instantly overwhelmed by her emotions. It didn't matter how many times he told her he loved her or needed her or spoke of never leaving her side, it always had an effect on her. She doubted he would ever truly know how much she loved him, too.
"You know," Emma said thoughtfully, leaning back so she could look in his eyes. "We promised Henry we'd have the family over. I think the entire town is really our family."
"The whole town?" Killian asked, raising an eyebrow. "I gather there is more to this plan?"
"The more people, the less likely you are to have to interact with your least favorite reptile," Emma teased. "And the happier Henry will be."
"You're bloody brilliant," Killian smiled, kissing her softly. "But how exactly do you plan to feed the entire town?"
"I don't know, we'll figure something out," Emma shrugged. "Like you said, we've always done anything we've set our mind to."
"That we have," Killian nodded happily. "And as it happens, I'm setting my mind to something right now." He kissed her slowly, breathing her in and setting her insides on fire.
"Henry will be home from school in an hour," Emma muttered, as he broke away and began kissing her neck.
He pulled back, eyes dancing with the untold plans he had concocted for her in the last few seconds. "While I prefer to take my time with you, I imagine I can fulfill my intent before the lad gets here."
She raised her eyebrow at him as a challenge and squealed as he scooped her up and took off for their bedroom.
"Mom!" Henry called, knocking furiously on their bedroom door.
Emma turned and tried to find her alarm clock. It was seven in the morning. On a holiday. What was he thinking?
"One minute, lad," Killian muttered, shifting out of bed and pulling a shirt over his head. Emma fell back against her pillow, not wanting to move an inch. She felt horrible. She heard the door open and Henry walk over to her.
"What's up, kid?" Emma asked, squinting at him. "It's early."
"We have a busy day," Henry reminded her. "It's not a day for sleeping in."
Killian snorted from his spot by the door and Emma would have glared at him had it not taken so much energy. This was not a good day to be getting sick. "Henry, I need more sleep. Why don't you call your grandmother and ask for her to help get us started? I'll be ready to go after another hour of sleep."
"Okay," Henry agreed, eyeing her carefully. He shot his stepfather a questioning look and Killian shrugged, though his face was full of concern. This was not their Emma. "I'll be back in here in an hour."
He left the room and Killian closed the door gently, walking over to her side of the bed. He pushed her hair back and she opened her eyes to see the worry etched in his face. "What's wrong, love?"
"I think I have the flu," Emma admitted. "My stomach is not in good shape."
"Then we'll call everyone and tell them we're moving the meal," Killian said instantly, standing up.
"No," Emma protested, trying to sit up and realizing what a mistake sudden movements were. "Ugh."
"See," Killian pressed. "You're in no shape to be getting out of bed, much less hosting a Thanksgiving celebration."
"Henry is so excited," Emma insisted, lying back down slowly. "I'll be fine, I just need a little bit more rest."
"I certainly don't think you expect me to allow you to risk your health," Killian chided, returning to her side. "Especially given that Henry would understand that you've taken ill."
"I do expect you to respect my wishes," Emma argued, sitting up slowly this time. "Look, at least let me have another hour or so of sleep. If I still feel this horribly then, I'll consider moving the dinner."
Killian regarded her carefully, hating the idea with everything inside him. Emma had never been sick, so this was foreign and frightening territory. But he knew how angry she would be if he went against her wishes, especially if she proved to be right and was feeling okay in an hour or two. The last thing he wanted was to incur her wrath this early in the morning.
"I don't like this," Killian said softly, sitting down on the bed and grasping her hand.
"You probably shouldn't touch me if I'm sick," Emma smirked slightly, making him scoff.
"I'm not concerned with myself," Killian replied.
"I know," Emma nodded. "And I love you for worrying, but you do it too much. Everything is fine."
"You are everything to me," Killian reminded her. "So if you are unwell, then nothing is right."
Emma smiled at him and he moved to kiss her, but she moved away. "I'm serious about the germ spreading thing. You can't get sick, too."
He gave her an annoyed look, but obeyed. "Fine, lay back then," he murmured, tucking her into the bed and touching her face gently again. "If you need anything, just call for me. And I'll be in to check on you."
He kissed her forehead gently before she could protest. "I love you," she smiled.
"The feeling is quite mutual, Jones," Killian whispered, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.
"We should cancel," David said decisively upon hearing Emma was sick. "She needs rest, not a house full of people."
"I agree, but she does not," Killian sighed. "She made me promise to give her a chance to sleep it off, as if she had simply had too much rum last night."
The two men sat at the large table set up in the living room, rolling silverware – as instructed by Mary Margaret – and speaking softly to each other. Mary Margaret glanced up from basting the turkey and smiled. They were worse than two old gossiping old women sometimes.
"Grams," Henry said, getting her attention. "How is this?"
He held up his handiwork and she nodded her approval at his piecrust. He was an excellent helper in the kitchen, unlike the two who were rolling silverware. Hence them rolling silverware. David looked up and caught her stare and smiled, making her smile in return. Evan, their eight month old, cooed in the corner, making them both smile wider. And even Killian grinned to himself, happy his in-laws were so happy.
"Maybe I should check on her," David suggested, turning his attention back to the silverware in front of him.
"It has been almost an hour," Killian realized. "Perhaps a second opinion that we should move this dinner would be helpful."
"I'll try my best, mate," David said, standing and walking toward his daughter's room.
"Where is he going?" Mary Margaret inquired, watching him disappear down the hallway.
"To wake Emma," Killian supplied.
"Finally," Henry sighed. "We need her help."
"I think we're managing," Killian replied, walking over with wide eyes as Mary Margaret continued basting the turkey. "What the bloody hell are you doing to that bird?"
"This is what makes it taste good and keeps it moist," she explained, laughing at her son-in-law. He'd come around to many of the ways of the modern world, but every now and then, things took him off guard.
"It looks… odd," Killian managed, turning his attention to Henry. "Do you need a hand, lad?"
Henry looked warily at his grandmother and Killian sighed, knowing the answer. You cause one little fire while making toast and you're banned from the kitchen forever.
"Sweetheart," David greeted, entering her bedroom. After two unanswered knocks, he assumed she was sleeping. But when he looked to the bed, he found it empty.
"I'm in here," Emma called from the restroom.
David walked over and frowned when he saw her leaning over the sink, looking a little pale.
"I know it doesn't look it, but I actually feel better," Emma said, reading his mind. "I lost a little of what was in my stomach, but I think it helped. Maybe I just ate something bad."
"Still, I think we should move today's festivities," David replied. "The town would understand."
"Of course, if Prince Charming tells them," Emma muttered sarcastically. "But Henry wants this. And like I said, I do feel better."
"For the moment," David noted. "Who's to say after a couple of hours you won't feel poorly again?"
"Or maybe, like wine, I'll get better with time," Emma joked, making David laugh despite the situation.
"I know you want to do this for Henry, but he'd understand," David reminded her.
"He always understands," Emma said, shaking her head. "He's always accepting of when things don't work out because of one reason or another. Like last Christmas when Neal promised to take him to New York and then it fell through at the last minute because of bad weather. Or in March when you and him and Killian were supposed to go sailing, but Evan came early. He's a great kid and he always understands. But he shouldn't have to all the time, you know?"
David smiled at his daughter, so full of pride when it came to her abilities as a mother. She doubted herself at times, and he knew that. But she was amazing at doing whatever it took to make her son happy and he knew she wasn't going to budge on this issue, regardless of how sick she was.
"Alright," David agreed. "But wash your face really good and try to cover up the circles under your eyes. Meanwhile, I'll give that pirate husband of yours a good report and hopefully he'll believe the both of us that you're okay."
"Thank you," Emma said sincerely.
"Anything for my baby girl," David smiled.
Two hours later, Killian was setting the table and watching Emma like a hawk. Since she'd emerged from their bedroom, she'd been avoiding him for the most part and the only confirmation he'd gotten that she was okay from David, who'd only briefly muttered something about "much better" to him before busying himself changing Evan's diaper. She did seem to be getting along okay, but Killian was still concerned for his wife. He knew she would be putting on a brave face regardless, so he was watching for any indication that his best mate was covering for his daughter.
"Look, the turkey is done!" Mary Margaret exclaimed excitedly.
Emma's face as Mary Margaret thrust the turkey in front of her to show off her achievement was the defining proof that Killian needed. It was a wonder she didn't get sick all over their Thanksgiving dinner, but she held her composure long enough to excuse herself. He began to follow, but was stopped by David who gave him an apologetic look.
"She's only going to be upset if you go in there accusing her of faking health," David warned.
"It's an accurate assessment," Killian noted. "One you helped her with."
"I know," David sighed. "But she's been fine until now. I thought she might actually be getting better."
"Clearly, you were mistaken," Killian replied. "Now, I'm going to check on her."
Killian walked quickly towards their bedroom and found her lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He sighed to himself, knowing that an "I told you so" was the last thing that would be helpful here. But it would feel good.
"I'm fine," Emma said, stopping him from saying anything. "I didn't even throw up. I just need a minute."
"Love, I know you want to do this for Henry and I want to as well," Killian began, slipping onto the bed next to her. "But at what cost are you doing it?"
"I'm okay," Emma insisted. "Aren't you listening?"
Killian frowned, but reached for her, pulling her into his arms. "I'm always listening. I just don't like to see you suffer in any manner. Forgive me?" he asked.
He was holding her so tightly and she knew the prospect of her being sick at all was really paining him. "Of course," Emma answered, burying her face in his chest. "I know you don't understand, but this day is important."
"I just don't know how you expect to get through the day when the sight of a turkey made you ill," Killian murmured.
"It wasn't the sight as much as the smell," Emma realized. "Hm."
"What was that sound for?" Killian wondered, trying to look into her eyes.
"What sound?" Emma deflected.
"The one you made as though you just discovered something," he clarified. "What's going on in that head of yours?"
"Nothing," Emma lied, making Killian even more suspicious.
"Emma," he prodded, pulling away to make sure he could look her in the eyes.
"It's nothing to worry about," Emma promised. "We should get back out there."
Killian frowned as she sat up, though he was happy to see her moving easily. "Love, wait."
Emma turned back to look at him and he stood up to pull her into his arms again. He held her close and she rubbed his back, trying to get him to relax. Though she was feeling some tension beginning to mount inside of her now.
"Are you okay?" Mary Margaret asked softly when Emma returned to the kitchen. "You went green and then ran out of here."
"I've just been a little under the weather this morning," Emma noted, swallowing hard at the way that sounded. And of course her mother immediately caught on.
"Let's talk in the pantry," Mary Margaret insisted, pulling her inside and closing the door. "Are you pregnant?"
"I don't know," Emma answered honestly, tears coming to her eyes. "The thought actually just occurred to me."
"Well, it's simple enough to figure out," Mary Margaret noted. "When was your last… you know."
"Technical terms," Emma muttered sarcastically, trying to think back. "I'm not sure. We've been really busy."
"Do you have a test you could take?" Mary Margaret questioned.
"I don't just keep them lying around," Emma countered.
"Well, it's okay, we can ask Ruby to bring one," Mary Margaret said simply.
"What?" Emma asked in shock. "No, we cannot."
"Why not?" Mary Margaret wondered.
"Because it's not something we're telling people, especially when there's nothing to tell," Emma said, obviously flustered.
"All we would be telling her – a good friend of both of ours if you remember – is that you think that you and your husband might be having a child," Mary Margaret shrugged. "What is so wrong with that?"
"What's wrong with it is by even us having this conversation, I'm getting freaked out," Emma said, her mind racing. "What would Henry say if I were pregnant? Would he hate me or his brother or sister for being raised by me? How would Killian feel? We've never even talked about it. Would I be able to handle having a baby in the house? I never have before."
"Okay, okay," Mary Margaret said, trying to calm her daughter who was close to hysteria. "I guess you're right. It's not an urgent matter."
Emma took a few deep breaths and Mary Margaret hugged her gently. Emma held her mother tightly, suddenly terrified yet hopeful, which furthered her anxiety.
"You will have to find out eventually, though," Mary Margaret said softly. "And I hope I'll be the first one you tell if you are."
Emma laughed gently and pulled back, nodding her head "Of course," Emma smiled. "I'm going to need so much help."
"I doubt that," Mary Margaret disagreed. "You'll be a natural. Just as you were with Henry as soon as you met."
"You really think so?" Emma asked.
"Of course," Mary Margaret nodded, the sound of the doorbell startling the both of them. "We should get back out there."
They exited the pantry to the sight of Regina and Robin, with Roland in his arms, entering the house. The doorbell had woken Evan and Emma watched as Killian hustled over and scooped the baby up, immediately soothing him. Her heart squeezed and she felt Mary Margaret's hand on her shoulder.
"Okay," Emma allowed, keeping her eyes fixed on her husband. "Call Ruby."
About an hour later, Granny and Ruby – the last of their guests – arrived and Emma rushed to greet Ruby.
"Be cool, girl," Ruby chided, laughing to herself. "It's in my jacket pocket."
"Great," Emma replied, helping her with her coat. "We're storing those in my room, anyway."
"Here, love," Killian said, reaching for Ruby's jacket and snatching it from Emma. Damn, where did he even come from? "Let me do that."
"No, I got it," Emma said, trying to take the jacket back.
"I'm headed that way anyway," Killian argued, pulling the jacket out of her reach. "Dave asked me to look in on Evan's nap."
"I can do that," Emma insisted, stealing Ruby's jacket away from him.
Killian eyed her curiously and they had a silent conversation with their eyes. Ruby laughed to herself and they both looked at her and faked a smile. "Fine," Killian relented. "Ruby, would you like help finding yourself something to drink then?"
"Yes, thank you," Ruby replied, leading him away before he could get even more suspicious of Emma.
Mary Margaret had seen Emma bolt for her bedroom after Ruby had arrived and after a few minutes, she slipped away to follow. She found Emma sitting on the bed and holding the test in her hand.
"Well?" Mary Margaret asked, shutting the door behind her.
"One more minute," Emma replied, looking to her mother. "I don't know what I want it to say."
Evan began to cry before Mary Margaret could answer and she walked over and swept him up into her arms, talking to him and calming him naturally. Emma watched in amazement and wonder.
"I never had the chance to do these things with you," Mary Margaret muttered, sitting next to her daughter on the bed. "And as much as I wanted Evan because of that, it also made me scared. Maybe I wouldn't have the instincts I was supposed to or I would mess him up in some way. But that was just me being silly."
"Really?" Emma asked.
"Your father and I decided to send you through the wardrobe alone to give you your best chance," she said, shrugging to herself. "It was the most difficult thing I've ever done, but it was also what made me a true mother. I'd do anything, sacrifice my own happiness, to make sure you survived and had a good chance. That's what you did with Henry, isn't it? That's why you gave him up?"
"Yeah," Emma nodded. "I just wanted him to have a real shot at happiness."
"When all you want for your child is happiness, you're being a good parent," Mary Margaret assured her. "And I'm sure if you are pregnant, you'll feel that way about this new baby. And you'll figure out how to do all the other stuff."
Emma smiled and leaned her head on her mother's shoulder, scared to death to look at the test that was no doubt ready by now.
"Do you want me to read it?" Mary Margaret offered, reading her mind.
"I can do it," Emma said, preparing herself. She looked at the test and felt herself relax. All of her fears were erased, which was not the reaction she thought she would have, given the result. "I'm pregnant."
"You're what?" Henry asked from the doorway. He'd entered silently and neither woman knew he was there until then.
"Henry, I… This wasn't planned or anything," Emma tried, unsure if he was going to be upset.
"You're pregnant?" Henry asked, shutting the door behind him and walking closer to his mom.
"Yeah, kid, I am," Emma nodded. "Are you okay with that?"
He answered by tackling her with a hug and then instantly releasing her to make sure she was okay. "Oh, did I hurt you?" Henry asked.
"No, I'm fine," Emma laughed. "I'm better than fine, actually. Especially if you're okay with this."
"I'm excited!" Henry exclaimed. "Does Killian know?"
"No," Emma realized, the worry creeping back in momentarily as she remembered she still didn't know his feelings on the idea. "I just found out."
"Cool, so it's a secret," Henry said happily. "How are you going to tell him?"
"Tell who what?" David asked, poking his head in. "Sorry to interrupt, it's just Emma went to check on Evan ages ago, I was getting worried. I didn't realize you were all in here."
"It's okay, gramps," Henry assured him. "We were just having a family conversation."
"And I wasn't invited?" David asked, feigning anger.
"Tell him, mom," Henry urged with a smile.
"Tell me, what?" David countered.
"I'm pregnant," Emma replied. David smiled his best Prince Charming smile and walked over, hugging his daughter tightly. "I can't say I was expecting everyone to be so happy."
"Why wouldn't we be?" Mary Margaret asked. "We love you and Killian. This is great news."
"Does he know?" David wondered.
"Not yet," Emma muttered. "And I don't want him finding out until after everyone leaves. I want it to be just us when I tell him. Got it?"
"Got it," they replied in unison.
Killian eyed the hallway that led to his and Emma's bedroom anxiously. Neither she nor any of the three people who had followed had emerged yet and he was growing more concerned by the minute.
"Can I get another, bartender?" Dr. Whale requested, holding his drink in front of Killian.
"Aye," Killian nodded, absentmindedly pouring him another drink.
"I was drinking whiskey, but this works, too," Dr. Whale laughed at the scotch in his glass.
"My apologies," Killian offered weakly, his eyes remaining fixed on the hallway.
"You seem anxious," Dr. Whale noted. "Would you like to talk about it?"
"No," Killian answered shortly before thinking better of it. "Actually, you're a doctor."
"I am," he nodded.
"Emma was sick this morning," Killian explained. "I was worried and she dismissed it and while she's seemed better as of late, she's still acting strangely. Do you think you could watch her? See if she's exhibiting any symptoms of a flu that I'm unaware of?"
"I could," Dr. Whale admitted. "But it actually sounds to me like she's fine."
"No medical conditions I should fret about, then?" Killian asked.
"I wouldn't put it that way," Dr. Whale laughed. "Look, obviously I only know a little by what you've described. But it sounds to me like she's pregnant."
"What?" Killian asked, his eyebrows practically hitting his hairline.
"Could be wrong, though," Dr. Whale shrugged, turning to go flirt with Ruby.
Just then Emma emerged with her family following closely behind her. They were all practically glowing and Killian felt a smile spread across his face. He would be so happy if Whale's theory was correct, but he didn't want to get his hopes up. He crossed the room to Emma quickly, wanting to find out immediately.
"Hey, love," he said, reaching for her hand. "Can I have a moment alone?"
"Actually, it's time to eat," Emma noted. "Can it wait?"
"I just have a question," Killian replied.
"Okay, why do you need to ask me where no one can hear?" Emma wondered.
"Well, I…" Killian tried, no lie coming to him. Damn, of all times for words to fail him. "I guess it can wait."
"Okay," Emma smiled, leaning up and pecking his lips. She seriously was glowing. Could this all be in his head? "Let's eat!"
Everyone was seated and Emma looked out at the group, laughing to herself silently. Literally the entire town was in her living room. She wasn't exactly sure how they all fit or where Killian had come up with the table that would seat everyone, but she wasn't questioning it. She was just happy that Henry was smiling the way that he was.
Killian's hand grabbed hers underneath the table and squeezed gently, his thumb running over the rings on her left hand. It was something he did a lot and it never failed to melt her heart. She leaned over and kissed him chastely, making him smile in return. Her heart did a flip at the sight and she suddenly was ready for everyone to leave so she could tell him they were having a baby.
"Before we eat," Henry said, making her tear her gaze away from her true love. "I want to go around and have everyone say what they're thankful for."
"Kid, there are over fifty people here," Emma reminded him. "The food will get cold."
"Thanksgiving isn't about food," Henry said with a smile. "It's about family and giving thanks. I'll start. I'm thankful for my family. And how it just keeps growing." Emma's eyes widened and she looked everywhere but at Killian as she could feel his eyes on her. "Dad, you go next."
Neal began talking and it continued around the table, all the while, Killian stared at her until she met his gaze. His eyes asked the question his lips couldn't at the moment and Emma shifted uncomfortably. He raised an eyebrow, asking more urgently and she turned away, looking at Henry in exasperation. Of course her son just laughed.
"I'm thankful that the food looks so good," Pinocchio said, making everyone laugh.
The thanks continued around the table and Killian was trying hard not to just stop the whole thing until he found out from his wife if they were having a child or not. He took a deep breath as it got closer to being his turn, trying to decide what he would say.
"I'm thankful for my wife and my son," David said, staring at Evan who was in a high chair between he and Mary Margaret. "For my daughter, who has grown up to be such a beautiful mother in her own right. And I'm thankful for Henry who brought us all here together. But most of all, this year, I'm thankful for this pirate next to me. He has made my daughter feel loved and cherished on a daily basis and he's given her a sense of family that circumstances never allowed Mary Margaret and I to give her. He's a great father to my grandson and my best mate."
Killian stared at David and smiled, shaking his head. It was his turn, but that unexpected show of affection had thrown him off. But now, it was back to the task at hand. Figuring out a way to get Emma to tell him what he wanted to know.
"I'm touched, Dave," Killian began, smirking at him, but the genuine thanks was in his eyes. "I'm also thankful for you and Mary Margaret. In-laws that I do not have to fear. And I'm thankful daily for the opportunity to be in Henry's life. I spent 300 years wanting the opportunity to be a father, but never admitting it. It's a joy, lad." He smiled fondly and Henry and his stepson returned the smile. "Finally, I'm thankful for the loving, honest relationship I have with my wife, Emma. My truest love."
He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly and she knew she was screwed. He had purposely added that honest bit in there because he wanted to know something and dammit, she was going to tell him. Even if this was not the way she really wanted to do it.
"Everyone has done a good job and said a lot of the things I'd say," Emma said softly. "I'm thankful for family and love, too. But, mostly, I'm thankful for the fact that I was sick this morning." She paused and everyone looked at her strangely, but she didn't notice. She was looking only at her husband as she continued. "I was sick because I'm pregnant. Killian and I are going to have a baby."
Killian was frozen, unable to process her confirmation of what he was already suspicious of. Everyone around them was offering congratulations and talking excitedly. But they were alone in that moment, smiling like idiots. He released her hand and moved his hand to her stomach, making her smile even brighter before she kissed him.
"Mom," Henry cut in, making the two of them pull apart. "The food is getting cold." He smiled playfully at the both of them making them laugh.
Emma curled up next to Killian, exhausted from their passionate exchange and from the entire day. He rolled over on top of her and kissed her again, stirring her desire once more. Where did he get the energy?
"Killian," she begged, making him smile against her neck where he was now layering delicate kisses.
"Slowly, love," he whispered, his lips trailing down over her chest and to her stomach. He stopped then, his eyes just passing back and forth across her abdomen.
"What are you doing?" Emma wondered.
"Taking mental notes," Killian replied. "I want to notice every little change as the baby grows."
"I didn't get very big with Henry," Emma remembered. "Of course, I was in jail, so the diet probably influenced that."
"I don't care if you double in size, I'm going to love every inch," Killian vowed, dropping a kiss against her stomach. "As I love you already, little one." He pressed another kiss to her belly before looking up at Emma with the goofiest smile. "Do you think the baby can hear me?"
"I don't know," Emma answered, giggling at him. "But I can."
He smiled and pushed himself up to meet her lips again, continuing their perfect day well into the night.