A/N: Slightly canon-divergent, post-s4 ! Just wanted to write a lil fluff for the holidays C: Thanks for reading !
"So what I'm to understand is, you abscond from the wilderness with trees, make them sparkling fixtures in your homes, only to leave them by the wayside a few days later?" Hook asked, standing across from said absconded tree standing tall and thin in the corner of Emma and Henry's living room. They'd moved into the apartment just in time for wrapping up the holiday season, and Emma had felt the need to christen the place with as much holly and jolly as possible, for Henry's sake. "No wonder this realm is dying."
Emma quirked an eyebrow.
"I know about global warming." He replied, and she couldn't help but smile at his absurd air of pride.
"I don't make the rules, pal." She said, fanning her hands. "Now are you gonna help me decorate the thing or not?"
Hook appraised the tree once more. "It sure is a ragged thing, love. Are you sure it can withstand these heavy baubles?"
Emma shrugged. There were plenty of fuller trees at the yard, ones that looked like they could survive any onslaught of glitter and glass thrown their way. But she had a soft spot for the underdogs, the ones that looked like they were one gentle wind from keeling over. Maybe she'd watched A Charlie Brown Christmas one too many times between her foster homes.
"D'you want stars or…whatever these messes of yarn are?" She'd been at a loss when she'd went decoration shopping last week. She didn't know what kind of tree she wanted, what kind Henry would like. So she'd picked out a few plastic canisters of an assortment of ornaments, the kind of mass-produced ones that look like they were the off brand version of homemade. As she slipped a lopsided hook through one of the yarn creature's loops, she realized what she really would have liked was something silly and wholehearted Henry had made out of felt and pipe cleaners and too much glue in third grade. The kind of things he was putting on Regina's tree right now.
Hook dangled one of the stars from his hook in bemusement as he watched her thread the ornament onto a low-hanging branch. "Is there any rhyme or reason to this, then, Swan?"
She waved a vague gesture at the tree. "I mean I'm sure there's some patented Martha Stewart formula for a perfect tree but whatever, follow your heart. Just don't put a whole bunch on one side and not the other or anything. And don't put a whole bunch of the same ones together."
"Aye aye, captain." He smiled warmly at her authoritative tone. He'd taken to that recently, applying the phrase ironically whenever he could shoehorn it in.
They worked in companionable silence for a little while, placing ornaments in tandem. Occasionally Emma glanced over and couldn't help but take a second to appreciate the look of genuine concentration on Killian's face, the light cast by the string lights glowing softly along his silhouette. She'd been nervous to ask him to join her in humouring the custom that was arguably just as foreign to her as it was to himself, but he'd been eager once he'd recovered from his surprise.
He'd still seemed a little unsure when he'd arrived, standing at the threshold with snow dusting the shoulders of his leather jacket and roses of blush from the cold bloomed along his cheeks and nose. The tension melted from his frame as soon as she'd placed a kiss on his frozen nose and taken his hand, leading him into the warmth of the apartment.
"Hook, please." She asked, extending her hand backwards as she assessed the best place for what looked like a dove shaped out of loose pillow feathers and crazy glue.
His fingers interwove with hers and suddenly he was the warmth along her back, hook resting on her hip and his lips pressing into her hair, only to end up at her ear. "As you wish."
Emma flushed, a happy smile playing at her lips. "I meant for the ornament, you dork."
"Ah, my mistake. You'll have to forgive the misinterpretation." He said, with the low timbre of a grin in his voice, entirely unrepentant.
She turned into his embrace, reaching up slightly on her toes so she could place a soft kiss across his smile. The wickedness drained from his expression as he leaned into her, resting his forehead against hers and sighing.
"No slacking." She finally said, reaching around him to pick a stray hook off the coffee table. It was entirely unintentional if she happened to press into him in the process, using a hand on his rear to steady herself. She flashed him her own unrepentant grin as she turned back to the tree. If there was one silver lining to losing out on tree decorating with Henry during mom squad negotiations, it was that she had the freedom of unabashedly fondling like teenagers.
Once the last ornament was placed, they stood back and viewed their work.
"I must admit lass, that is quite the pretty picture."
There was a patchwork of silver between multicoloured cloth, metal and fabric lit by a warm glow and accented by loose, gauzy ribbon garlands. It wasn't anything Emma would have expected in her living room, let alone something she would ever guess she'd have a hand in creating. It was beautiful.
"It is that." She agreed. The corners of her mouth turned up as she imagined Henry's reaction. "I think this calls for a toast."
She picked two tumblers out of the dishwasher, wiping the last few droplets of water onto her sweatpants. She emptied the thin red carton into the tumblers and returned to the living room, carefully passing a glass to Hook.
He peered into it, took a whiff and an experimental sip. His eyebrows shot up. "And what kind of arcane holiday elixir is this?"
"That would be egg nog."
"It is…surprisingly thick."
She caught the innuendo just before it slipped out of her mouth, and mentally added a hefty amount of tallies to her 'adult-ing' column.
"Do you like it though?" She asked instead.
"It's certainly an intriguing concoction."
"Could use a kick, though. Flask, please." She put out her hand.
Killian dug for it in his pocket, passing it over obligingly, though with a quirked eyebrow.
She reached over and poured a generous helping of rum into his glass, then her own.
"Egg nog is actually meant to have alcohol in it, but it's one of those things we've got g-rated versions to accommodate the kids."
"Ah, like that sparkle juice we had last New Year's?"
"Right." In the calm moments after Zelena's defeat, she'd decided to invite him over to the Nolan's for the countdown. They'd toasted flutes of the kiddie stuff with Henry at midnight, and broke out the real deal once he'd fallen asleep on the couch, only to switch back a couple glasses later—truth be told, they both preferred the sweet stuff.
He rocked back on his heels as he drained the last of the egg nog. "So what are we to do now that our mission is accomplished and we have a few hours yet until the lad returns from Regina's?" By the end of the question, his tone was bordering on downright mischievous. He paused, scratching behind his ear and running a fingertip along the centre of his bottom lip as he gazed up through his lashes. She almost dreaded the moment he became aware of mistletoe.
` She played along, though, smiling coyly as she drew closer, laying a hand solidly on his shoulder. His eyebrows did the thing, the almost-smug kick upwards when he thought he was getting exactly what he wanted.
"It's time you lost your Hallmark virginity."
Twenty minutes into some flick about a CEO's heart growing three sizes after he rediscovers the true meaning of Christmas, Killian turned to face her.
"Thank you. For letting me be a part of this." He gestured loosely, a slow, encompassing loop of his index finger.
Emma's heart skipped a beat at the earnestness in his expression. She didn't trust her lack of artistry with words to convey how much she wanted him there. How much she craved the day when the wisps of hesitance in him were laid to rest. She didn't trust her words to be adequate, so she leaned into him, nestling her face into the crook of his collarbone, wrapping her fingers around his hook on one side and gently cupping his face on the other. She guided his face to hers, taking a moment to savour the bumping of their noses before kissing him.
"You belong here." She said simply. She wasn't sure she could handle whatever his expression became, so she sank back into the couch, keeping their hands interlocked. As the film spun on and her exhaustion grew, she was absently aware of a domino effect occurring—Killian began to slump into her and she slowly migrated to the far corner of the couch.
She awoke to Henry banging through the front door.
"Hey, Mom!" He called, accompanied by the shuffling of his feet against the mat. "I'm home."
She smiled blearily at the concept. Home.
"Hey kid, how was it?" She asked, maneuvering herself into some degree of upright position. Killian's head had ended up in her lap, and she dragged her fingers lightly through his hair as she turned to catch Henry's reply.
"Awesome. Really, really awesome. We put up so many lights, I'm sure you could see the place from space. And Mom magicked the topper onto the tree because we didn't have a ladder. It was really neat."
"Glad to hear it."
"Also, she wanted me to give you this."
He pressed a small jumble of…sticks? into her hand. His name was scrawled onto the back in faded black Sharpie. She flipped it over. It was three popsicle sticks heavily glued together, with googly eyes and a loose red pom pom nose.
"I made that in second grade, I think. I think it looks pretty sad. But she said it didn't matter. 'It's a mom thing.'"
Emma smiled at the unexpected gift. She still wasn't used to surges of comradery at the thought of Regina. Maybe it was a seasonal thing, like an allergy, but little bouts of affection instead of sniffles.
"It's a mom thing." She confirmed. "Put it on the tree, will you?"
"Speaking of which," He began as he reclaimed the makeshift ornament with a grin, "it looks amazing, Mom."
"Thanks, kid."
"I'm kinda beat, so I'm gonna head to bed. Remind me to tell you about the time Mom kidnapped some reindeers for ransom, okay?"
She shook her head. "Yeah, alright. Good night, Henry. Love you."
"Love you."
Killian still hadn't stirred. She accepted her fate, sinking back into the cushions and leaving her hand on his back.
She could get used to the whole 'home' thing.