Snow trickles down from the sky and dresses the ground and buildings in a gentle white coat. It's December in Storybrooke and Emma Nolan walks the sidewalk toward Granny's Diner holding an overflowing box of lights and decorations.
She can barely see what's in front of her, much less where her feet are falling, and she trusts the fact that her father told her he'd be icing the sidewalks this morning, but she keeps her footing meaningful regardless.
It's only six thirty at night, but the sun is already set and the night sky is obscured by clouds that pepper her in snowflakes that stick to her clothes.
"Swan!" the sound of her nickname makes her stop walking, shifting the heavy cardboard box in her arms so she can manage a slight glimpse at the man with ruffled dark hair and a smile stretched a mile wide. If it weren't for the fact that she kind of hates him, she might think he was cute in his winter outfit, snowflakes in his hair and a rosy blush in his cheeks. "What've you got here?"
"Decorations," she says, her voice accompanied by a puff of white.
"Decorations? For what?"
Emma gives him a glare for being such a man, then steps forward again, colliding straight into him on accident. He steadies her with his left hand braced against the small of her back and he chuckles but all she wants to do is roll her eyes and shove him away.
She has known Killian Jones for several years, unfortunately, ever since he came into her ninth grade English class one morning staggeringly late wearing that dumbly attractive leather jacket that for some reason, he still thinks fashionable. He had smelt of cigarette smoke and of course he had an accent, hailing from England, where he apparently used to live with his older brother.
Killian was living here in Storybrooke with his cousin Tink and her foster kids, but Tink has since left town, so him being here now is more annoying than anything.
Mostly annoying because once upon a time, she had dared to have feelings for him that were something other than what she typically feels and, well, she got burned. Like always.
They had been friends, once. He'd sit with her at lunch on occasion and they'd meet up in the library to study. Sometimes, he gave her his chocolate chip cookies. They went to town festivals together and he stuck up for her when people picked on her for being the principal's kid. At some point that's still unclear to her even now, friendship became more for them.
No longer was he the boy who acted twice his age and no longer was she the resident brainiac. They were just Emma and Killian, framed by words like us and we when talking to people about doing things together. And she thinks he was probably her first boyfriend, technically, even if they never said it out loud.
And anyway, if he was her first boyfriend, not taking her out on an official date kind of squashes the idea that they were sweethearts.
"Woah there. Let me take this. I presume you're heading to Granny's?"
She hands him the box when he requests it and nods, sighing. "My mom's hosting the annual Christmas party there tomorrow night."
"Ah," Killian says, starting to walk along with her toward the diner. "So that's what the fliers were for."
She rolls her eyes and adjusts her hat atop her head, sliding it to be more snug and protective of her ears. "Yeah. Something like that."
"I've never been," he announces. She doesn't need him to tell her that- she knows he hasn't.
Emma hums. "Well, you're not missing out on much." They reach the front door of Granny's and she opens the door for him, the bell tinkling. "Just food, dancing, and mistletoe. And a crap ton of uncomfortable mingling."
Killian chuckles and Emma guides him to the tree her mother had Leroy set up earlier.
"Put that there," she murmurs.
He does. They stand there in silence, Emma taking in the sight of the Christmas tree as she mentally goes through her list of to-dos. She bites on her lip and reaches into the box for the first string of lights, untangling it as she gets to draping it over the branches.
"So I take it you're not too keen on going, then."
Killian meets her eyes and she stares at him, wanting just for him to get the hell out of here so she can do her business, and shakes her head. "Not really."
He smiles at her, his eyes twinkling. "But you've got to go."
"Mm," Emma sighs as she continues to drape lights.
She hears him grab something from the box and he makes a sound of understanding. "Couples only. Very interesting."
Emma sighs. "Yeah. I have to find someone to take me, otherwise I'll get stuck being paired off with one of the Dwarves." He tilts his head to the side, a wicked look in his eye. Emma gives him a look in return. "I think Mom's just trying to set me up with someone because I'm twenty four and I haven't come home with anyone she approves of."
Killian chuckles, deep and low, watching her as she plugs the lights into the wall. The multi-colored bulbs all shine brightly in the corner of Granny's and their luminance brings cheers and claps from those gathered in the diner.
Emma smiles softly at Granny, who gives one particularly loud whoop, and she's caught off guard when Killian speaks.
"Darling, if you wanted me to ask you to the party, all you had to do was ask."
Emma's heart skips a beat as she snaps her attention back to him. "What? No. I'm not going to go to this Christmas party with you."
He steps a little closer to her and smiles. He smells of cinnamon and he's wearing his favorite leather jacket.
"Come now, Swan," he smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling sweetly. "If you don't go with me, who will you bring?"
She's hesitant to say anything because she knows he's right. Storybrooke isn't exactly bursting at the seams with attractive single gentlemen.
"There are plenty of guys," she lies through her teeth. He cocks his head at her, lifting an eyebrow sinfully.
"Really, Swan?" His expression is playful. "Name one."
Emma presses her lips together in a line, narrowing her eyes at him. "You know what? I don't have to play this game with you."
He shrugs. "No, but if you want a date that's half your height and tipsy the entire night, then I suppose that's on you, love."
She drops her shoulders. "Fine. I'll go with you. Happy now?"
"Aye."
She turns back to the box with a roll of her eyes and starts going through it so she can hang ornaments on the tree, something she typically might enjoy, but now her blood is boiling and her teeth are clenched, and Killian Jones is practically jumping up and down.
"Listen," Emma says, turning to him, her gaze pointed. "It's not serious and it's just so my mom won't find someone for me. Got it?"
Killian nods once, a smirk riding his lips. "Aye, Captain."
"Get out of here." She rolls her eyes again and gives him a shove to his chest, making him laugh.
"I'm glad you're home, Swan," he says, all sincerity in his tone and in his eyes. "I've missed you."
Her heart squeezes at the words. She somehow can't find a lie in them.
Killian continues, "Perhaps we could get together and talk while you're here? It's been a while."
Emma stares at him cautiously, searching the depths of his deep blue eyes until she drowns. "I don't know. I might be busy."
Killian shakes his head, his smile fading as he steps in close enough that she gets chills. "No, that's not fair to me, Em."
She tenses at the nickname. Swan is fine, Swan is safe, but Em- that's a whole other story.
"Don't call me that," she tells him. "And you don't get to see me because we're not friends. Friends are people that care about each other."
"I care about you," he tells her without pause. And it's enough to shut her lips together. Typical Killian Jones, being so forward with his words. "It's been six years."
"I know," she whispers. "And I miss you."
Killian looks as if he's in pain. He looks down and then up at her again. "Then let's be friends again. At the very least."
Emma stares at him. She shakes her head. "I don't know if I can."
Killian takes a soft breath. "As you wish."
Emma watches through the window as he does, in fact, leave. He sticks his hands into his pockets and breathes out a white puff of air, then turns around, meeting her eyes for a split second too long.
She looks away, and when she glances outside again, he's gone completely.
..
"Oh, Emma, is that your car? Are you here?" Her mother's voice carries down the hall into the living area.
Her brother is sitting on the other end of the couch, texting his girlfriend, and she'd be annoyed by it- the constant heart eyes and giggling- if she never got to see him. Living in New York is fun and she loves being a cop there, but being home is pretty great too.
"You're here!" her mom continues, entering the room with a huge smile on her lips.
"Yeah." Emma sits upright, reaching for a cookie from the coffee table before rising, bringing her empty mug to the kitchen.
Her mom sets down the pile of paperwork she has from the office on the kitchen counter as she speaks, "You'll never guess who I ran into on the way home tonight."
Emma shakes her head. "No idea."
Her mother gives her one of those classic mom looks. "Killian Jones." Emma immediately cringes slightly, her stomach twisting. "He said he'd be taking you to the party. I guess that old flame of yours reignited?"
Emma groans at her mother's words, shaking her head. "No, Mom. There was never really any flame to begin with. He stood me up twice in high school. He's taking me as a... friend."
Her mother hums, and then starts for the fridge, opening it as Emma hears the front door open up. "Well, I invited him over for dinner."
"Mom!"
From down the hall, Emma hears her father and Killian laughing at something as they step out of their boots.
It's cause for panic as Emma immediately looks at her mother with wide eyes. Her mom shrugs. "I thought it'd be nice. He doesn't have any family in town anymore."
"Yes, but he doesn't have to come over to our house to have dinner-"
The men enter the room and Emma turns to them, forcing a smile, her attention mostly on her father, who grins at her.
"Hi Emma. How was your day?"
She does look at Killian then, finding his soft smile not as annoying as she had earlier. He takes his fingers through his fringe, brushing it back only for it to fall forward again.
"Good," Emma says. "Granny's is all decorated."
Her father nods. "Ah. Right. Good." He turns to the couch. "Leo, we have a guest."
Leopold, whose name comes from their grandfather, sighs and stands up, giving his phone a lingering stare as his fingers undoubtedly tap yet another heart emoji to what's-her-face.
Finally, he looks up. "Oh, Killian. Hey."
"Hi, Leo. How's school?"
Leo shrugs, smiling a bit. "Pretty good. How's work?"
"Business is fair. I can't complain."
Killian's gaze shifts back onto Emma and she immediately looks away, to her mother, who has started getting things out. "Hope you like pasta, Killian. I'm making spaghetti tonight."
"Spaghetti sounds grand, Mrs. Nolan."
..
Her father fires up the Christmas radio station over the speakers and somehow, things begin to feel less intense around Killian.
He's wearing a soft blue sweater and his laughter reminds her of a warm fireplace. Conversation is light, thankfully, focused on gifts from Christmases past and of the snowstorms that came through Storybrooke when they were younger.
Killian meets her eyes more than once, a friendly smile on his lips, and she can't help but reciprocate, not feeling the overwhelming urge to shove him and smack him for the way they'd left their relationship six years ago.
With hot chocolates in their hands, Emma listens as her parents reminisce about Christmas before children, with actual, literal hearts in their eyes, and Emma would like to stick her fingers in her ears and gag, but her parents are the sweetest people in the world and she can't help but feel her heart squeeze warmly.
"I remember it like it was yesterday," her mom smiles. "You were so excited because you'd gotten me a puppy."
Her father grins proudly. "Yep."
The puppy in question rises from her place in the living room and slowly crosses the room to find Emma, staring up at her with big eyes. Emma sighs, dropping down so she can give Nana affection.
"You're not a puppy anymore, are you?" Emma asks, laughing when the dog licks her cheek.
Mary Margaret laughs. "Emma, do you remember the Christmas that you cried?"
Emma groans, looking up at her parents who stare at her with laughter on their lips. She stands up and folds her arms to her chest.
"How could I ever forget it?" she asks. "You guys make me watch the video like every time I come home."
Even Leo is laughing, but when Emma looks at Killian, he just has a confused look on his face.
She sighs. "Do you really want to know?"
He gives her a playful look, his brow scrunched. "It can't have been that awful."
"Oh, trust me, it was. I haven't been able to live it down."
And that's how they end up popping the DVD into the player, all gathered around the TV in the living room while her mother plates the spaghetti.
Her father's camera work is kind of terrible and shaky, but he captures every moment, from when Little Four Year Old Emma comes stumbling down the stairs in a frantic hurry to that tragic moment at the tree.
"Emma!" her father says, making Little Emma look at the camera. "You have one more present. Look."
Little Emma gets too excited, dropping down to grab the item from under the tree.
Emma sighs from her spot on the couch next to Killian, who looks from the screen to Emma, grinning. "You're quite cute, Swan."
She smiles a little at the compliment. "Not for long. Get ready for the crocodile tears."
Cameraman Dad has to help Little Emma with the wrapping paper, but then it's open, and paper is everywhere, and between the memory itself and having seen this a hundred times over, Emma has this next part memorized, practically mouthing the words.
"What is it? What did you get?" Bob Hair Mom asks from her spot on the floor.
Little Emma tears into the box and, lo and behold, it's a Barbie doll.
"Oh!" Little Emma gasps, her eyelashes fluttering. She studies the doll and then turns to Cameraman Dad, her lower lip quivering.
"Oh, no! Baby, what's wrong?"
"Daddy," Little Emma's face is now scrunched up and tears have started leaking down her cheeks.
Cameraman Dad adjusts the camera so he can reach out to wipe away her tears. She remembers how warm his fingers had been, how kind his eyes were.
"She's so pretty!" Little Emma sobs.
Her parents both laugh and so does everyone around Emma in present time. Killian, when she looks at him, has an almost loving look in his eyes as he studies Little Four Year Old Emma.
She doesn't have to watch the screen to know what happens next. There's more crying. Killian turns to look at Emma and he wraps his arm around her, just like Cameraman Dad does to Little Emma on screen.
Emma avoids looking at the screen, even after Killian's friendly arm falls away. She misses the warmth of it immediately.
"It's okay, Emma," Cameraman Dad is saying, "one day, there'll be someone that will feel like this when they see how beautiful you are."
Younger Emma gasps. "Really?"
Bob Hair Mom hums, reaching out for Little Emma's hand, "Yes. Absolutely."
"I felt that way when I saw Mommy all those years ago."
Young Emma looks at Bob Hair Mom and then at Cameraman Dad and smiles at the way her parents are gazing at one another.
Cameraman Dad awkwardly shifts and there's a cut because he'd leaned in to kiss Emma's mother, but when the camera comes back to life, Cameraman Dad is being the ultimate hidden camera, capturing Little Emma with Bob Hair Mom.
Bob Hair Mom is smiling as she rolls dough in the kitchen. Little Emma sits on the counter beside her, licking frosting and giggling as she knocks her feet against the cabinets.
Her father in present time smiles softly when she looks at him. He has tears in his eyes that he promptly wipes away as he presses pause on the DVD when her mother says, "Dinner's ready whenever you are."
Emma rises and goes to her father, taking her gentle fingers to his cheek where one tear has slid free. "I despise that video."
He chuckles softly, then kisses her forehead. "You know we're right."
It hasn't happened yet. Her parents assure her that one day, she'll magically find him: The Man Who Will Cry Christmas Barbie Tears over her. But she hasn't found him, and she's doubtful she will. Her parents live in a fantastical bubble, she thinks, where True Love's Kiss can break any curse and Fairy Godmothers help prepare Princesses for the Ball.
Emma meets Killian's eyes as she starts to go to the table and he smiles at her with the same affection in his eyes that there had been moments before. He doesn't say anything and for that, she's glad.
..
She is able to keep her gaze down during dinner, avoiding Killian completely. He's sitting across from her, next to Leo, who stuffs his face and then excuses himself so he can presumably text his girlfriend some more.
"So, Killian," her mother speaks up as soon as Emma finishes her plate. "What do you want for Christmas?"
Emma pretends she isn't listening as she has a sip of her water. "Oh, uh, I suppose I haven't thought much about that. Don't have anyone to get me anything."
"Oh!" her mom gasps. "Then you'll have to spend Christmas with us! If I had known you spent Christmas alone, I would have said something sooner."
"You're too kind, Mrs. Nolan," Killian smiles, shaking his head. Emma glances up. "But I wouldn't want to impose. Emma's home from New York. I'm sure she wants time with you to herself."
She gets that sick feeling in her gut that usually accompanies something stupid, like what she says when she opens her mouth. "No, I don't mind. You can come over."
He stares at her in a shocked silence and Emma imagines that her mother is grinning from ear to ear, nearly teary eyed, and she is.
"Wonderful. Killian, why don't you just come over after the party and we'll set you up in the guest room? It's going to go pretty late anyway."
"Sounds grand."
"This Christmas is going to be amazing," her mom says, looking across the table at her father.
Emma stares at Killian and tries to ignore the memories she has of him that have burnt her, but she can't, and it leads to her standing, grabbing her dishes, and heading into the kitchen to find her father's beer.
She has a solid sip and starts doing the dishes in silence.
It's ridiculous of her to be angry with him all these years after the fact, but she really, really liked him in high school and for him to act all high and mighty like that- inviting her on not one, but two dates, and proceeding to not even show up for either is enough to scar a person for life, right?
The aftermath had been ugly. She had locked herself into her room and cried until her mother picked the lock and came in to talk about it. Her father had been pissed, threatening to go find him and teach him a lesson with his fist, but Emma had promised that it was fine.
She's not even sure when her parents came to be best of friends with him, but apparently it happened, because they're in the dining room chatting away.
As she scrubs her plate, she becomes just a little too aggressive and ends up dropping the plate in the sink, effectively startling everyone. Emma stops to close her eyes and press her hands against the countertop, leaning forward.
She curses under her breath when Killian enters the room. He tilts his head at her. "Everything alright?"
"Yeah," she sighs. She avoids him as she turns back to finish cleaning the dishes.
His presence beside her is unavoidable and she bites down on her tongue as the words threaten to bubble forward.
"I was fairly certain your parents were about to do something in there. I had to leave them some space."
She'd laugh like he wants her to, but she's not feeling particularly humorous.
He sets his plate down beside the sink and leans against the counter. "Out with it. I can tell you've got something on your mind."
Emma gives him only a second when she stares at him and then sighs, turning back to the dishes. "I don't know. Maybe you coming to the party with me is a bad idea."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because we have history."
He's quiet and she tentatively looks at him, her nerves making her wish she didn't say anything at all. He has parted lips, his brows pinched inward.
"You're pissed about twelfth grade still?"
"Of course I am!" she says, not believing that he can't see it as clear as the nose on his face. She shakes her head, laughing humorlessly to herself as she shuts the water off. "You asked me to go on a date with you and when you didn't show up the first time, you asked me for a retry that you also didn't show up to."
Killian gives her a look. "I explained what happened both times. First time I was working for Gold and he wouldn't let me leave. Second time I was at an impromptu meeting with child services. Tink needed me. I wasn't about to leave her to go on a date."
Emma shakes her head again. "I liked you a lot, you know."
"And I you." He nods. "Why do you think I kept asking for a third go at it?"
"You did not!" Emma scoffs. "You seemed pretty set with Regina when she wanted to hang out with you the day after you stood me up the second time."
"I- bloody hell, why would I have ever flirted with that woman?"
"I don't know! But you did. I saw you guys all but making out by your locker after school that day."
And it's then that Emma realizes how childish this is. They're grown adults arguing about high school angst as if it matters to them now.
She wipes her hands on a hand towel, then shakes her head.
"I'm sorry. This is stupid." she says quietly. She timidly looks into his eyes and to her surprise, he isn't angry.
"It's not stupid," he promises. "I hurt you, whether I meant it or not. I'm sorry I did that to you."
If there's one thing she hadn't expected to hear, it's that.
She blinks at him, not knowing how to react. They're standing close, she realizes. He's not leaning against the counter anymore, instead facing her.
Emma swallows, about to say something, but her parents enter the room and she and Killian turn away.
She casts a lingering glance at him after her father says they should go check out his new bike in the garage. He doesn't look at her until he's almost out of the room, and even then his expression is concerned.
"Help me with the dishes?" her mom asks.
"Yeah."
As soon as the door to the garage shuts, her mother speaks. "Are you still upset about what happened?"
Emma sighs. "I was. He just apologized so I can't be anymore."
Her mother chuckles. "You really are my daughter, aren't you? Stubborn as a mule."
"I'm not mad at him for what happened," Emma insists. "It's just the principle of it."
"Mhm," her mother agrees. "But that was how many years ago? Don't you think that now that you're both in your twenties, he might be able to follow through?"
"Probably."
"And you know that Killian isn't Neal, right? Neal lied to you, yes, but Killian is different. He wouldn't betray you."
Emma's heart squeezes and her stomach churns at the memory. "Yeah. I know. It's not-"
She shakes her head, but she knows it absolutely is thanks to her jerk ex boyfriend.
Neal had been her savior, or so she'd thought. He came to her in college and their relationship lasted maybe a year and a half before he abandoned her with a bruised ego and nothing but the clothes on her back. He was a thief in more ways than one and her parents had thankfully been there to help put the pieces back together, but it's not as if she's suddenly open and willing to befriend any guy that wants into her life now.
In fact, that first Christmas, she remembers how Killian had been eager to talk to her, but she shot him down. She remembers that sad look on his face, how he'd forced a smile and told her that he'd see her around.
Her mother hands her a cup and stares at her, dimples popping in her cheeks. "You know, Killian always asks about you when he comes over. And he won't ever let me give him your phone number. He says he'll get it the next time you come home, but he never does."
Emma mentally goes back through her memories of running into him post-graduation and sighs heavily at the way she'd been so abrasive toward him. No wonder he'd been so guarded and careful earlier when they ran into each other again. She's never given him a chance to redeem himself.
"I don't like him anymore," Emma says, but the words taste funny on her tongue and she gets a twist in her gut at them.
"Then maybe you shouldn't invite him to the party. I'm sure Walter might like a date."
Internally, Emma screams, but on the outside, she shakes her head. "No, it's fine, Mom. I'm sure we can be civilized."
..
After clean up, Emma's mother announces that it's time to watch Christmas movies, and of course she invites Killian and he agrees to stick around after she brings out tray upon tray of Christmas cookies.
And, okay, it's not too bad. He sits beside her and he smells really good and he's warm, so she's not one to argue about any of that.
They eat and laugh and in between movies, her mother brings out even more Christmas cookies. Emma gets so full she thinks she'll probably explode.
They talk through A Christmas Story, her mother's fault, and they end up discussing past Christmases and laughing a lot more.
Probably about halfway through Elf, Emma has her head against Killian's shoulder, and his arm is half draped around her, a blanket covering both of them. It's so warm and nice. She falls asleep and it doesn't even bother her that Killian has his lips in her hair.
She wakes again and the TV is off, but everyone's talking and Killian is still holding her. Somehow in her sleep, she drifted so that her face is in his chest. Horrifying, but again, not terrible.
She sighs and presses her nose into his chest. His hand slides down her arm gently and she sits up, her eyes looking at the clock. It's twelve thirty. She wonders how long they've been talking like this.
"Well, it's about time," her mom smiles. She looks over at her and finds Leo has gone up to bed.
"Sorry. I had a long day." In her groggy state, Emma doesn't know who she's apologizing to. Killian just chuckles.
"It's alright, love," he says lowly. "Perhaps you should head to bed."
"Yeah," she sighs, peeling the blanket off of her so she can stand.
Her parents are already up and moving things into the kitchen. She smiles at Killian slightly when he stands up beside her, setting the blanket back down on the couch.
They stare at one another and Emma smiles slightly. "You're a really good pillow, Killian."
He faux bows. "Thank you, milady. It was my honor."
She laughs. "You're such a dork." Killian winks at her and she searches his face. "I'll see you at the party."
"Aye," he agrees softly.
She thinks about his apology then, considers the contentment she feels in her heart right now with him, and reaches out for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"Night, Killian." Emma doesn't look back as she heads away from him, going for the stairs.
She hears his voice, gentle and definitely accompanied by a small smile. "Goodnight, Emma."
..
The party is at five and Emma is forced to wear a dress and heels, even though she begs her mother to let her get by with just wearing flats. Her mother insists that this is a formal event, and Emma should dress up, if not for herself, then for her.
There are people mingling inside of Granny's brightly lit and festively decorated diner and deep down, she's proud. This is home.
Her mother holds her arm and smiles at her. "There are our gentlemen."
She gestures down the sidewalk and Emma turns to see Killian talking with her father, smiles on each of their faces. They're dressed as her mother would very much approve. Leo is behind the two of them, his face in his phone, a look of seriousness in his features.
They come to a stop when they reach them and she can't help but notice that look in Killian's eyes. That freaking Man Who Will Cry Barbie Tears over her look. He has it.
She takes her eyes away from him as quickly as they meet and instead looks to her father, who has a wide smile on his lips.
"Emma," her father greets her warmly. "You look beautiful."
"Thanks Dad." He takes her mother's hand and they walk away after a nod.
Her parents walk to the door and stop, looking up at the mistletoe. How could she forget the mistletoe?
They kiss and cheers can be heard even outside of the diner.
Emma nervously looks at Killian and almost goes to the door alone, but he takes her by the arm silently and walks her up to the doorway. She doesn't want to do this with their last full conversation being an argument about high school, his apology still ringing fresh in her ears.
She doesn't want this to change things. She's afraid it will. She knows it will.
Going to the party with him at her side is enough to change things to begin with. Even if she were to creep up onto her toes and kiss his cheek, there are still words unspoken and she knows he'll want to talk.
She turns to him when they reach the doorframe, her eyes up on the mistletoe for a moment.
She takes a breath and looks at him. He's searching her eyes, clearly contemplating everything she is. There's the opportunity for a cheek kiss, she thinks. She could peck his cheek and be on her way- ignore him for the rest of her life- or, or, she could forgive him and move on.
Emma swallows and presses her hand against his chest as she leans in. Their lips meet for a long moment. He has his hand in her hair and it's so gentle in comparison to how he's got her lip in between his.
It's electrifying, this moment, his lips on hers, his hands on her. It's enough that she feels her heart racing and her stomach stirring. It's almost like he's kissing her like he's never going to get the chance again.
But then they break apart and their eyes meet.
He feels it too, the electricity, she sees it in his eyes. They're wide and his lips are parted, his cheeks flushed adorably.
The people inside the diner are cheering and clapping and Emma turns, a shy smile on her lips as they join the party.
Kissing Killian Jones might have been a mistake, but she doesn't know if it was, because he's holding her hand as they walk to the food tables and he only lets go when she hands him a cup of cocoa.
Thankfully for the selfish part of her that wants to never speak to Killian about any of this ever, Ruby and Belle and Aurora all want to talk about life, effectively pulling Emma halfway across the room from the man whom she has just kissed.
For his part, Killian keeps to himself, or goes to talk with Victor Whale, or with Jefferson, whose date is his little daughter. He doesn't talk to any of the ladies in the room, and often, Emma finds him looking right back at her when she searches for him.
There is definitely a lot they need to talk about.
When her mother calls for dancing, the right thing to do would probably be go find Killian, but instead, Emma sits on the floor of the back hallway of Granny's, hiding from him.
It doesn't take long for him to find her.
She really shouldn't be surprised.
Killian slides against the wall beside her until he's sitting and sighs, loosening his tie. "I hate dressing up. It's too much effort."
She doesn't reply. She just sits there, avoiding him, looking down at her hands in her lap.
"I still have feelings for you." He says it as if it's typical everyday conversation, as if everyone knows this simple fact, and she's stunned. "I have had feelings for you since high school and I know it's ridiculous because we're not even friends anymore, but you, Emma, you're something else. Every time I hear you're coming into town I get anxious and then when I see you we don't talk. I miss it. Being your friend."
Emma looks at Killian then, frowning. "I'm sorry. That's my fault."
He shakes his head. "I don't know where this goes from here, love."
She smiles weakly. "Me either."
Tears are in her eyes and one fat drop slides free. Killian is just in time to catch it, his fingers gentle and warm against her cheek. She sniffles.
"Sorry. I don't know why I'm crying."
"It's alright," he tells her.
They stare at one another for a few moments and she thinks he might kiss her again, but then, her brother steps into the hallway.
"There you guys are. Come on, Mom's looking for you. It's picture time."
Emma rises to her feet and Killian follows suit, giving her a fragile smile. "It's alright, love. We'll have to talk later."
"Okay."
..
The rest of the party consists of pictures by the tree and laughter and song. For most of it, Killian stays by her side. His hand grips her hip and for a few of their personal pictures, he kisses her cheek, effectively causing her heart to stop beating for a few seconds.
There are moments where she feels their friendship again. An inside joke or two over rims of hot chocolate, raised eyebrows and soft laughter. He sings and she rolls her eyes when he tries to get her to sing too and does it despite her better judgment, much to his approval.
And there are moments like this, with snow trickling softly from above, as he walks her home after all is said and done. They're not walking intimately close, instead with a bit of space between them. Her mind is racing, to be quite honest, with thoughts of their kiss, of conflicting emotions, of wishing for clarity.
"I hated you, you know. I hated that you were so giddy to take me to this thing."
When she looks at him, he frowns. "Really?"
"Yeah," she laughs. "You were part of the reason I never really wanted to come back home."
"Damn," he breathes. "And here I was thinking I might have a chance with you."
He's putting his guard up again and she hates that more than she hated him for what he did to her.
"I don't know," she says, smiling hopefully at him. "You might still have a chance."
He has snowflakes in his hair and his cheeks are pink from the cold. His eyes shine at her, though, as his smile brings happy crinkles to the corners of his eyes. He seems embarrassed, looking ahead of himself before he looks back at her.
"You think so?"
"Yeah." Emma nods. "I mean, I kind of like you."
That's enough to make him stop walking and Emma does too, biting down just a little on her lip as he turns to her, setting his hand on her hip and studying her every line and imperfection right there on the sidewalk to her childhood home.
"I kind of like you," he says in that accent of his, tilting his head as he smiles at her widely.
Then, their lips touch and she thinks that maybe if there were such things as Christmas miracles, that this might take the cake.
Killian's fingers are under her jaw and he holds a strand of her hair as he caresses her cheek with his thumb just so. When they part, she smiles at him again and he drops a kiss to her freezing nose before dropping his hand from her face.
She catches his hand and slides closer to him as they walk.
..
Christmas morning is different in more ways than one. Reason number one being that she isn't in her bed when she wakes up. No, she's sleeping in the guest bedroom with Killian.
And it's not because they went ahead and did anything. It's because once she realized she couldn't fall asleep in her childhood bedroom, she went to the guest room where he too had been lying awake, and she ended up getting a little too comfortable lying there beside him.
He's cute in the morning, but she doesn't tell him that. She just smiles to herself and tries to forget that she's going to be leaving for New York in a few days and this might not even end up working out because of that simple fact.
Killian opens his eyes and closes them, a smile spreading on his face. "Watching me sleep, Swan?" he asks thickly.
Emma takes her fingers through his hair. "Maybe."
He turns to her, breathing in deep as he adjusts to the day. "Morning."
"Good morning."
He licks his lips and hums. "You're so pretty, Emma." His eyes are narrow, still tired slits and his voice is unwavering, so she believes him.
"I just woke up," she mumbles, sliding forward and pressing her head under his chin.
"Doesn't mean it's not true." He whispers just as she falls back asleep.
Eventually, they do wake up. Emma hears her family talking excitedly downstairs, probably eager for she and Killian to emerge, and she sighs as she shuffles out of the guest room with Killian just behind her.
It turns out, yes, everyone's already awake, sitting at the island with cups in front of them. The faint scent of cinnamon wafts to her nose and she smiles.
"Monkey bread," she tells Killian. He wiggles his eyebrows and takes her hand, swinging it between them as they enter the kitchen.
"There you are!" her mother beams. "Merry Christmas!"
And it is. They have cocoa with a hint of peppermint, but topped with cinnamon, and they sit in the living room with the Christmas tree.
Her dad is the designated present distributor, has been forever, and he sits on the floor, tossing gifts around the room. There's laughter and excitement. Leo practically dies when he opens his gift from her- tickets to fly out to New York to visit her over the summer.
There are no tears, thankfully, and Emma finds it all the more enjoyable getting to sit with Killian on the couch while she opens gifts her parents really shouldn't have bought for her. Like the new coffee maker or the set of tea cups.
Killian gets a few gifts too from her parents, mostly just common things, like socks. He also receives something he really likes, a first edition of Peter Pan, something that's apparently incredibly rare.
And it feels good, but Emma's waiting for the other shoe to drop. Nothing is ever as simple as this is.
..
After a day full of eating and lounging around, they all go outside and build a snowman family together. It's part of Christmas Day tradition, something Emma has done every Christmas for as long as she can remember.
Killian helps her with hers, much to her delight. He has snowflakes in his hair again and it's actually quite cute, she thinks. He smiles at her when they finally get the head onto the snowman and Emma smiles in return, feeling secretive even if they're outside with her family.
Their combined effort of a snowman ends up having a lopsided head, but they laugh through it, putting eyes and a nose on and letting out loud cries of failure when the snow cracks a little too much and ends up falling to the ground again.
After putting another head on their snowman, Killian takes note of how her teeth are chattering as his body comes close to hers. Her gaze shifts up, taking in his cold appearance as well.
"You're freezing," he murmurs, his brow knitted. He tilts his head back toward the house. "Let's get you inside."
Emma looks over at her parents, finding them occupied with each other and the snowball fight that they have started rather than their snowmen, and laughs softly as she returns her focus to Killian.
"Okay."
They head into the house without saying anything to her parents and when they enter through the back porch, she can't help but giggle when she accidentally falls into Killian as she's stepping out of her boots.
He laughs, too, eager to catch her.
They get inside and she sighs happily as she strips out of her coat and hat.
"Cocoa?" He asks.
Emma nods. "Yeah. Definitely."
They make the hot chocolate together and Emma catches him staring at her more than once.
"I'm going back to New York in the morning."
"Yeah?"
She hums. "Yeah." He hands her a mug. She has a sip.
"So what does that mean for you and I?"
Emma stares at him silently, wishing that the answer was clearer for her. Wishing that their reunion wasn't so sudden and heartwarmingly sweet. She doesn't want to leave him, or to break her own heart over him again, but if she doesn't do it now, it'll hurt a lot more down the road.
"I don't know. I'm not… I can't do the long distance thing. I'm a cop."
He doesn't even blink when he says, "Okay. Then I'll come with you."
Emma tilts her head at him, "Killian-"
"I'm not letting you go. We haven't even had a date yet."
"I know. But moving to New York is- that's insane. What if after all this we don't even really like each other?"
He laughs, shaking his head. "Not bloody likely. You're everything to me, Emma."
"You can't say that."
"I can."
"We don't know each other."
He stares at her then, instead of saying anything. Then he says, "That's a lie and you know it."
Emma is silent. She knows he's right.
"So you'd rather not, then? Despite the progress we've made."
The door opens and her parents and Leo enter the room, causing Emma to turn her head slightly to see them. She looks back at Killian and shrugs. "It's just too little too late."
..
After Killian excuses himself for the night and leaves, Emma isn't sure what happens. She feels, oddly enough, alone.
Her parents sit cuddling together with a blanket draped over their legs as they watch more Christmas movies and Leo is out with his girlfriend, exchanging gifts and probably too much saliva.
Emma can't focus on the movie. She keeps wishing things could be different. She keeps hoping that maybe things could work out between she and Killian.
Too little too late feels like a summary of their relationship from it's start and Emma realizes that perhaps her feelings for him aren't all gone yet, either.
But it's not like she can do anything to change that.
To her surprise, her phone vibrates in her hand. It's ten thirty.
The message reads: Meet me at Granny's? 15 minutes?
Emma sucks in a breath and straightens out. What are you up to, Killian?
You'll see.
..
When Emma arrives at Granny's, she can't help but smile softly to herself, tilting her head at the sight of Killian standing in the middle of the empty diner wearing his favorite leather jacket and suit vest.
"What are you doing?" she asks.
He steps forward and takes her hands into his, lowering his voice just so. "While it isn't exactly what I had in mind, we're going on a date."
"What? Here? Now?"
He nods, tucking his teeth over his lower lip as he tugs her along with him to a booth. On the table, there is a single rose, along with a box of pizza.
"It's overdue, isn't it?" he asks, his gaze true and desperate.
Emma isn't sure if she wants to cry or run away or stay and laugh, because this is by far one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for her.
"Yeah," she says. Emma sinks down into the booth and smiles a little. "It is."
Killian takes a seat across from her and opens up the pizza box, an apologetic look on his face. "I couldn't find anything else and Granny was only so willing."
Emma laughs. "That's okay. I like pizza."
He grins, seeming to loosen up a little. "Good."
They talk about a number of things, catching up until the entire pizza is completely gone. Killian eats most of it and she teases him about it, laughing when he gets sauce on his chin. She dabbles at it with her napkin and he winks at her as soon as she has it.
It's almost one in the morning when she checks for the time, but it barely feels like any time has gone by at all. She sighs heavily, pressing her face into her hands.
"I don't really want to go," she mumbles. "But I have to."
She removes her hands and he straightens up, reaching out to take her hands. He's so strong. "I don't want to be too forward, Emma, but life is incredibly short and you need to listen to your heart."
She rolls his eyes at his stupid poetry and sighs. "I'm happy in New York."
He shakes his head. "Then it's better if you stay there." Killian gives her hands a gentle squeeze and he rises. "I'll take you home."
She stares up at him, hesitant, and finally nods. "Okay."
..
Her parents all but beg her to stay as she's loading up her car to go back. They tell her about an opening at the station and how there are plenty of nice places she can live in Storybrooke. They remind her of her friends and of her family and how it'd be wonderful if they could see her more.
And she just shakes her head and tells them she loves them, but New York is home.
Part of her wishes Killian would show up, one last time, with some declaration on his lips of his love for her, demanding her to stay, if not for herself, but for him. But he doesn't.
She drives back to New York in an aggravating silence, her thoughts of home and what that means to her tickling at the back of her mind.
While she knows they're all right- staying in Storybrooke would be just as much home as New York is to her now, if not more- she's mostly afraid of being let down again.
If she were to stay and get a job at the station, live in a loft apartment, and go on dates with Killian, there is absolutely nothing that says she'd find her happy ending there. Killian could break up with her, find love with someone else, or she could realize that she's not happy at all.
When she enters her apartment, she immediately tosses her stuff down and lies down, staring at her phone, at the picture she'd put as her background- Killian's gazing at her in front of the Christmas tree and it's a goddamn fairytale.
Tears well up in her eyes when he texts her: Have you made it home?
She shuts her eyes and sighs, her fingers hovering over the letters on her keyboard. She feels sick and she realizes all too late that he was so right.
Emma sits up and digs the heels of her palms into her eyes, cursing under her breath.
She swallows up her tears and types back: I'm in my apartment but I miss you, so no.
He doesn't reply immediately and she turns off her phone, throwing herself back into her pillows. A moment later, her phone rings.
She doesn't have to see his name or picture to know it's him.
"Hey," she says when she answers, her fingers playing with string on her blanket.
"Hi Swan," he sounds like he's walking. "You know, my offer still stands. I could come to New York."
She laughs, pressing her free hand over her face. "No. I'm- I think I'm going to come back."
He stops walking and is quiet for a beat. "Really?"
"Yeah," she tells him. "I was thinking about it all the way here and I realized that you were right. Life is short and I have to follow my heart. If I stay here, I'm not going to be happy."
"Well, it's funny you should say that, because-"
There's suddenly a knock at her door and she sits up, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. She walks out of her bedroom quickly and reaches the door.
"Because?"
He doesn't answer until she opens the door.
"Because I took my own bloody advice and I booked the first flight out."
Emma laughs, hanging up her phone before she thrusts herself forward, wrapping her arms around his neck as his hold her steady. Her feet are off the ground when she kisses him and when he sets her down again her forehead touches his, laughter still on her lips.
"You didn't have to come here."
Killian shrugs. "I needed to see you again. We didn't get the chance to say a proper goodbye."
Emma takes his hand and shakes her head. "I don't want goodbye. I want a future with you in it."
"Aye," he grins, breathless and sweet. "Me too."
As they finally step into her apartment, she smiles at him. "Help me pack?"
"As you wish."