Title: When the Sun Rises
Part: 1/3
Author: Roguie
Fandom: Once Upon a Time
Characters: Killian/Emma, Charmings, Henry, Regina.
Rating: K+
Spoilers: Not really. Most of this is its own head canon verse.
Summary: He's known her long enough for three Christmas Eves to pass. All were notable in their own way: good and not so good, yet all a part of their path to happiness.
Disclaimer: OuaT isn't mine. If it were we'd not be on three month hiatuses every other three months. Oh, and Hook and Emma would have long dissolved their UST and be living happily ever after in a little beach house taking over a quiet corner of Storybrooke for themselves. Just saying.
A/N: This is written entirely. The first part I'm posting now. The second part I'll post before I hit bed tonight. The third part I'll post when I wake in the morning. Since I didn't intend to write today and my muse kind of ran away with this, you get a 5000 word Christmas present. Surprise! And… pure fluff, not a smut fairy to be seen. Although… give us 30 reviews over the 3 chapters and I'll see if the muse is willing to provide a smutty little epilogue. Yeah, I'm not opposed for begging for my very own Christmas love. ;D Enjoy – and Merry Christmas!
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The first Christmas he spent in the presence of Emma Swan was not something either of them would care to remember. Christmas wasn't something widely celebrated in the Enchanted Forest. Oh sure, he'd heard tales of a fat man in a sleigh delivering parts of his plunder to villagers across the realms, but it wasn't a story into which he'd put much stock. That first December 24th spent in the realm without magic, he'd spent behind bars, the blonde temptress he'd followed across realms behind her desk only a few measly feet away, barely containing her contempt for his presence as she grumbled into a luke warm hot chocolate brought to her by her doting father.
Rather than be a model prisoner, barely understanding the concept of the holiday much less its importance to the young woman who'd never had a family on such days, he'd pushed and poked at her, his verbal wit cutting and true, regretting his words only when her beautiful green eyes had grown wistful and misty before she'd turned her back on him and locked herself away into the sheriff's office where his words could no longer reach. The guilt had chewed at him through the night as she was forced to remain in the building because of him. She'd brought him food at appropriate times, she'd taken him to relieve himself and given him privacy that he'd not expected or deserved. Her kindness towards him and respect for her duties never wavered even as he watched her eyes grow more and more dim as the night grew longer. When she took a muted phone call from her boy, followed by one from her mother where upon she refused to leave her prisoner alone no matter how much he deserved his punishment, his own shoulders had sagged forward and he buried his face in his hand, the remorse for the trouble he'd caused her heavy enough to curve his spine with weight, leaving his throat dry and his eyes burning suspiciously.
"I'm sorry, Swan," he murmured finally, the honesty of his apology ringing through even as he refused to meet her sad green eyes with his now equally as tortured blue.
He'd expected nothing more than a grunt to acknowledge his rare apology, instead he'd heard the click of the lock to his cage and a warm hand covered his own.
"Thank you," she murmured in return.
She walked out of the cell and sat down behind the deputy's desk once again, cocking her head to the side when his eyes were fail to do anything but follow her every movement. He moved cautiously towards her, noting the deck of cards and bowl of peanuts she'd set upon the table top.
"Are we playing a game, love?" he asked, quietly, hesitatingly settling into the chair across from her.
"Probably more than one," she muttered beneath her breath, but he caught her words anyway. "It's just cards, Hook, don't read anything into it."
He bit back the immediate retort that threatened to shatter the small bridge she'd built between them, and rather reached into the bowl of peanuts, popping a handful into his mouth, chuckling as she stretched out to slap his hand away from the salty treats.
"Hey! Watch it! That's our betting pot that you're chowing down on!"
"Apologies, lass, I've never bet with an edible reward before. They're quite good."
She chuckled softly, "Yep, that's why we bet with them. Winner gets to eat the pot."
He offered her a flourished little hand movement before settling back and picking up the cards she'd dealt him, eying them with suspicion. "Then far be it from me to hold up the game. Are there any further rules to which I should be aware? Or is eating the betting pool the only frowned upon action in our match?"
"It's poker, Hook; I assume you've heard of that?"
"You assume correctly, m'lady."
"Then quit stalling and put your nuts where your mouth is."
It took him a long moment of trying to wrestle unexpected guffaws of laughter into a quiet chuckle. It took an even longer moment to convince his mouth not to spew forth the suggestive commentary about his nuts and how of the two people in the room, it's not his mouth he'd like upon them. Finally, with highly concentrated moves, he glanced down at his cards and tossed a few nuts into the center of the desk.
"Your move, Swan," he murmured softly, because truly it always was.
She gave him the softest smile he'd ever seen curve her lips and his heart thumped painfully in response, stealing his breath for the quickest of moments. "Merry Christmas, Hook."
"Merry Christmas, love."
Neither of them slept that night; they played cards until dawn, laughing and fighting over the last of the peanuts to bet just as the sun broke the horizon on a blustery, snowy Christmas Day. They parted ways just after, Killian returning alone to his ship at the docks, Emma returning home to the arms of her family waiting to celebrate the holiday for the first time together.
He regretted tearing her from them in the first place, but he couldn't find the will to regret the night spent in her company. Quietly, he promised himself that would be the last night he'd spend confined to her jail cell. That night he'd discovered there were other, far more pleasurable ways to spend time with Emma Swan. He could hardly wait to experience them all for himself.
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Merry Christmas, everyone, and remember much like magic, all muses come with a price. This muse's price is that little box down below. Please don't make her chase you today, it is Christmas after all. Even muse's need time with their families.