Notes:
M for suggestive language and profanity
This work was originally written for the Captain Swan Gutter Flower Secret Santa exchange.
For those who don't know what bell-ringing Santas are: In the U.S.—and in some other countries that celebrate Christmas, I believe—some charities have traditionally solicited donations during the holiday season outside shops and on street corners. Generally, there is someone who rings a bell (and says Merry Christmas, etc.) next to a stand with large kettle for cash. Sometimes these people are dressed as Santa Claus. I haven't actually seen one in years, so I don't know if they actually take credit cards, but not many people carry cash anymore and I needed a plot device to identify the shady Santa. So in my universe they take credit exactly how I've portrayed it.
Work Text:
Emma Swan roared up to the modest looking townhouse in her bright yellow VW bug, and leaned out the window, yelling, "Come on Jones," at the man currently locking the front door.
"Jones" was Killian Jones, Emma's fellow private investigator and a menace to society.
Watching as he approached the car, all dark, artfully tousled hair and perfect scruff, Emma mumbled under her breath, "No one should be that fucking hot."
Sliding into the passenger side with a quirk of his perfect eyebrows, Killian grinned and said, "At your service, milady."
It should have been a cheesy line, but it wasn't. He wasn't. It wasn't just that damn, sexy British accent, either. He was charming and funny and smart and had amazingly blue eyes that looked like the ocean and despite her best efforts, she had fallen for him. But Emma Swan didn't do relationships. At least that's what she told herself.
Emma shook herself and pushed her such thoughts aside. Down to business.
"Ready to catch a Shady Santa?" she asked.
"Fill me in a bit, Swan," he said. "Mary Margaret and David didn't give me a whole lot of detail.
Mary Margaret and David were the Blanchard and Nolan of "Blanchard Nolan Investigations," and Emma's best friends. Killian had joined the agency about six months ago.
"One of Give a Care's bell-ringing Santas is pocketing some of the donations, but they don't know which one." Emma explained. "They don't want this to go public, so they need us to find out as quickly and quietly as possible."
"So until we catch the bastard we'll be surveilling Santas," she said. "First stop, the Old Town Christmas Market and Bazaar."
Emma put the bug in gear and headed toward Old Town. Crowds swarmed the sidewalks, browsing in the quaint little shops and heading toward the market. They parked and exited the car, walking toward the open air market that had taken over the town square for the Christmas season. Emma adjusted the beanie on her head, carefully arranging her long blonde hair, which she may or may not have spent extra time on this morning.
Santa, with his bell and donation bucket, was down at the far end of the market stalls.
"You go check out the location and I'll go get us coffee and a bear claw," said Killian.
Emma said, "Cream and…"
"…just a little sugar," Killian finished. "I know, Swan. What kind of investigator would I be if I hadn't already sussed out how you take your coffee?"
Browsing the end stalls or sitting on a nearby bench would provide the best view of Santa's activities, Emma decided. She'd started browsing in an ornament stall when Killian returned with the coffee and bear claw.
"Thanks," she said.
Killian sketched a brief bow. Emma snorted and rolled her eyes.
"You look quite fetching, all bundled up against the cold, Swan." Emma was wearing a warm amber-colored sweater that just happened to bring out the jade green in her eyes.
"I see that despite the temperature, you still seem to be experiencing some kind of button shortage, Jones," she smirked, surprising herself by leaning in and flicking his collar playfully. But who could blame her? The man had magnificent chest hair which was perpetually on display due to his tendency to leave at least three buttons of his shirt undone. Today's shirt was dark blue–his best color. His leather jacket fit like a glove, highlighting the definition in his arms and chest. And those black jeans…Emma felt her eyes roam downward. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up to see Killian stepping in closely.
"Why Swan, I had no idea you were so concerned for my welfare," he murmured.
"Just make sure you don't get sick-–I'm not doing this Santa gig by myself," she said, trying for a nonchalant tone of voice, but judging from the smirk on Killian's face, not quite succeeding.
"So how's our Santa looking so far?" Killian asked as he moved to look over her shoulder.
"Bored" she laughed. "He's not the most enthusiastic bell-ringer."
"How do they know someone's skimming?" Killian asked. "I mean there's really no way to know how much cash they actually receive."
"It's not so much the cash they're concerned about, it's the electronic transactions," explained Emma. "There have been reports of fraudulent charges. He's sneaky–he's trying to stay under the radar by only targeting some of the electronic donations. Every time he goes out he takes just a few by switching the charity's card reader with his own tablet."
They decided they'd split up at first–-Killian would browse the end stalls and watch the crowd while Emma would try to tempt Santa with her credit card.
She approached Santa, trying to look slightly naive. Fumbling with cash, she looked up at Santa, read the sign that said "credit cards accepted" and said brightly, "Oh! I can use my credit card? Awesome!"
"Give a Care thanks you miss–-you'll be helping to feed hungry people with this donation," the Santa said, briskly running her card through the standard reader–no iPad or other tablet in sight.
Emma smiled and headed back to the stalls to find Killian.
"Nothing shady so far," she said. "You?"
"Nope. But I did find a brilliant selection of Christmas crackers–just like when I was a lad!" he said excitedly, holding up a bag.
Seeing Emma's puzzled look, he explained, "It's a tradition in the U.K.–they're little tiny wrapped cylinders. You pull them and they make a popping noise and inside there's a joke and a paper crown for your head. It's great fun.
"Come on Swan, let's see what other Christmas wonders we can find as we keep a weather eye on Santa," Killian urged, pulling Emma by the hand.
Somehow their hands remained linked as the wandered the stalls, dodging people and talking.
Every once and awhile they'd notice someone approach the Santa with a credit card and they'd hover in one spot, casually glancing up from the merchandise.
They drifted out to the bench to watch Santa finish up his shift.
"So, I take it you're quite a fan of Christmas," Emma said.
Killian tilted his head thoughtfully. "Yes, but mostly because no matter what else was happening, even when it was just us, my brother Liam always managed to make it special."
"It was just the two of you?" asked Emma.
"Aye. Mum died when I was 11 and Dad ran off about a year later–-Liam was only 19, but he took care of me, of us. We were lucky that Mum had left a bit of money that Dad hadn't managed to drink away, but it was still hard for Liam to raise me all on his own. But it all turned out in the end–I ended up in school here in the States and Liam followed me over."
"Oh that's right-–he's local, right? Has that pub down on Union Street?"
"Jewel of the Realm-–best holiday mulled wine in town," Killian said.
"What about you, Swan? I sense that Christmas isn't your favorite time of year?"
"It's not that I don't like Christmas–-it's just that growing up in the foster care system, you never really get much of a celebration, you know?"
"I'm sorry, Swan," Killian said softly.
"It's different now–-I have David and Mary Margaret. I met them in college and haven't had a quiet Christmas since," she said wryly.
Killian laughed–-even this early in the season Mary Margaret's enthusiasm for all things Christmas was in full display.
"So, it's fine now-–Christmas. I don't decorate my apartment or anything–although Mary Margaret has threatened to do it for me."
The Santa was packing up his things.
"Well, Swan, that's one Santa cleared–for now," Killian said. "Where to next?"
"The Galleria," Emma said, sighing.
"On a Saturday in December? Bloody hell," he said.
"Busy, distracted crowds make for good marks–we'll just have to stay close and get creative about keeping an eye on this Santa without tipping him off," Emma said.
They arrived at the mall and located the Santa—main floor, right outside Macy's.
"There's a security guard—we should talk to him and see if he's heard anything about suspicious transactions," Emma said.
"Go ahead, Swan," Killian said. "Two's a crowd and I have a lead I'd like to follow up. See you back here in about 15 minutes?"
Emma nodded, looking at him a bit suspiciously and then headed off in the direction of the security guard.
When Killian arrived back at their surveillance spot—benches off to the side of Santa—Emma had already returned.
"Any luck?" asked Killian.
"Security guard hasn't heard or seen anything suspicious," Emma said. "What about this mysterious lead of yours?"
"I, was on a very important quest," Killian said, producing a small bag with a flourish. "A search for quality candy corn. Friends don't let friends eat waxy Halloween candy, Swan."
He smirked as he handed Emma the bag.
"What? How did you even…?" Emma sputtered.
"Yes, I saw you demolish a good portion of that cheap, leftover candy corn a few weeks ago. I know you have a fondness for those garish little cavity-bombs, so I thought I'd get you some of the good stuff," Killian said, scratching behind his ear.
Emma blushed slightly.
"Um, thanks Killian. That was very…sweet," she said, shyly.
Killian slid onto the bench, next to Emma.
"I think our best strategy is to sit in the corner where the benches come together," said Killian "That way we can turn toward each other but one of us can still see Santa as we engage in fascinating and scintillating conversation. I know how mesmerizing you find my face, love, so perhaps it's best if I be the one who watches Santa," he said with a smirk.
Emma lightly punched him in the upper arm.
"Ow! Merely a jest, Swan!"
Emma leaned in closely, her mouth mere inches from Killian's ear. "Just keep your eyes on the prize, Jones."
She was amused—and gratified—to see his mouth drop open slightly.
He recovered quickly.
"It's bad form to question a man's…abilities, darling," Killian said, as he ran his tongue along his top lip suggestively.
"Hmm. You talk a good game, Jones, but…"
"Oh, Emma–I am so much more than talk," Killian said in low voice, leaning in even closer.
"Killian?" Emma whispered looking into his eyes.
"Yes, love?" Killian could feel her breath—soft and warm—on his face.
"What's Santa doing right now?"
Killian didn't miss a beat
"Still ringing that infernal bell. Looking quite unhappy about it too," he said smugly.
He dropped his voice even lower.
"You see, Swan? I always deliver. Never doubt that I can get the job done."
Their faces were mere inches apart. Emma's pulse was pounding in her ears.
"Wait, wait. Electronic transaction happening," Killian said suddenly, looking up.
Emma snapped out of her haze and sat up straight.
"And…?" she asked.
"It's legitimate. Our Santa may not be jolly, but it's beginning to look like he's on the level," Killian said.
"We'll see—half an hour to go," said Emma as she checked her watch.
They both leaned back and settled into their seats. For the remainder of the Santa's shift, they amused themselves by taking turns watching the mall shoppers, coming up with outrageous and ridiculous guesses about the contents of their bags and packages. Emma had just guessed "a dozen bedazzled beer cozies" when they saw that the Santa was gathering his things.
"Where to next, Swan?" asked Killian.
"The Christ Church Christmas tree sale," Emma said, mentally thanking God that it was an outdoor venue. She was still feeling a bit flushed from their verbal swordplay.
Emma dropped Killian at the gates of the church grounds so that he could tempt Santa with a credit card and do a little reconnaissance while she found parking.
She arrived at the church grounds and found Killian walking along the first row of trees.
"Swan! There you are! We've got some browsing to do," he said.
"So this Santa didn't take the credit bait?" she asked.
"No—in fact, he seemed quite put out when I told him I wanted to charge my donation," said Killian.
"We'll still need to watch, however," he continued. "And in order to avoid suspicion, I'm afraid we'll just have to pretend we're a couple shopping for a tree together, Swan."
Killian shot her a saucy smile as he reached for her hand.
"Riiight. Suspicion," said Emma with a snort. She didn't object, however. In fact, she found herself intertwining her fingers with his. It should have made her nervous, but it didn't. It felt…right.
As they walked down the row of trees, Killian gently squeezed her hand.
They spent some time walking through the trees—lingering at the ends of the rows closet to the Santa. Emma wasn't really focused on the trees—she didn't know anything about buying a Christmas trees and she didn't want to take her eyes off Santa for too long.
Suddenly Killian came to an abrupt halt. "Swan—look! It's perfect," he said.
"What's perfect?" she asked.
"This wee little tree. It practically screams 'Swan's first Christmas tree,'" he said excitedly.
Emma looked down. "This one? It looks like Charlie Brown's tree," she said.
"I know! Isn't it brilliant?! It's like a little starter tree," Killian said excitedly.
"I don't know…I don't even have any ornaments," Emma said.
"We'll get some. I'm sure Mary Margaret would be happy to lend you some of hers," he said, with a grin. "You could even have some of mine, if you want."
Killian turned to face her and clasped her hand in both of his.
"If you truly don't want to take home Charlie Brown's tree, I'll stop pestering you, lass. I just thought it would be nice for you have to have a proper Christmas tree at least once," he said.
Emma looked down at the tree. It was small, and perhaps a bit thin, but actually quite nice.
"OK—you won me over," she said. "Besides, Mary Margaret has been threatening to unleash all of her Christmas cheer one of these years, so it could also be considered defensive decorating."
"Yes! Let's claim Charlie before someone else does," Killian said enthusiastically.
Emma was touched by Killian's desire to give her this little bit of Christmas. She was also secretly captivated by his boyish glee.
Luckily, the line to pay for the tree provided a clear line sight to Santa. After they paid, Killian offered to hold the tree and watch the end of Santa's shift while she brought the car around.
"Where to next, love?" asked Killian as they loaded the tree.
"Hope you can ice skate Jones. We're headed to the rink in Prince Street Park," said Emma.
"I'm actually quite good at skating, thank you very much," he said.
"Hmm. We'll see about that," she said playfully.
They arrived at the rink and Emma went off to check the Santa while Killian rented their skates.
"I think this guy may be the one," she said as she joined Killian on one of the benches.
"Did he try something?" asked Killian.
"No, but there's just something about him and he comes off as a bit overeager. Not that an enthusiastic Santa is a bad thing, but this feels like more than that. He also seems a bit nervous," Emma said.
"We'll have to watch carefully as we skate, then," Killian said. "In the meantime, since you expressed some skepticism about my skating skills, I propose a race."
"Please, you couldn't handle it," Emma said.
"Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it," he said, popping the "t."
Emma snorted and stepped out onto the ice.
"Anytime, Jones. Anytime."
Killian skated in a graceful circle around Emma.
"How about….now!" he yelled gleefully.
They took off, neck and neck, until Emma put on an extra burst of speed.
"See you at the end of the loop!" she shouted triumphantly.
Emma's lead quickly diminished and soon Killian was nipping at her heels.
"I'm actually quite enjoying the view, Swan," he said.
They reached the end of the loop at virtually the same time and Emma turned to push on Killian's shoulder playfully.
"You're supposed to be watching Santa, Jones!"
"Sorry, Swan." Killian said, as he ran his hand over her arm. "It's just this local scenery…."
He stepped closer and gently brushed some stray locks of hair from Emma's face.
Unconsciously she brought her hand up to her hair, as if to hold onto the feeling of his touch.
Taking hold of both her hands, Killian started gliding backward, gently towing Emma along.
Her blood thrummed and she felt almost lightheaded as he pulled her toward him.
"Shall we do some loops as we watch Santa?" he said.
Emma was afraid to speak lest she break the mood, so she just smiled and nodded.
They soon established an easy rhythm with Killian occasionally twirling Emma around. Each time they drew a bit closer, until they were virtually dancing. The Santa was momentarily forgotten as they gazed at each other like—unbeknownst to them—lovesick fools.
Emma looked into Killian's eyes their hue intensifying to a shade like sapphires and sunlight on the ocean and she felt…sparkly. A ridiculous and incongruous description, but she could think of no other word to describe her current state of being. Actually, she could hardly think at all. How had she never noticed how beautiful Killian's face was before? Not just hot, or handsome, but beautiful as he gazed at her with tenderness and affection.
They had largely been ignoring the piped in music, but Killian smiled when Harry Connick Jr.'s rendition of "What Are You Doing New Year's (New Year's Eve)" came on.
"Lovely song," he said.
"It is kind of nice," Emma said softly.
Killian began to sing along softly,
Maybe it's much too early in the game
Ah, but I thought I'd ask you just the same
What are you doing New Year's
New Year's Eve?
He paused, looking down thoughtfully at Emma. She moved closer, letting go of his hands to place her arms around his neck. She felt a rush of heat as he placed his hands on her waist.
Ah, but in case I stand one little chance
Here comes the jackpot question in advance
What are you doing New Year's
New Year's Eve?
They had slowly come to a stop.
"Emma," he whispered.
"Yes, Killian?" she whispered back.
"What are you doing New Year's Eve?" he asked with a smile.
"I don't know yet. Did you have something in mind?" she responded.
Killian leaned down and whispered, "I think you should come with me to Liam's party at the pub. Very classy affair."
"I think that sounds like a good idea," she whispered in reply as she rose up slightly on her tip toes.
Killian pulled her close as their lips met. The kiss was soft at first, gentle and a bit playful. Its sweetness and tenderness were thrilling and Emma felt her body respond. Warm, tingling and aching everywhere, she leaned into Killian's body and ran her tongue along his bottom lip. Killian tilted his head in order to kiss her more deeply, ardently pushing his tongue between her lips, stroking and exploring. Emma responded passionately, biting and sucking on his lower lip. Killian moaned and pulled her head closer. Emma ran her hands through his hair.
Panting, they parted lips briefly and slowly the outside world filtered back in. They were standing in the middle of an ice rink. In public. Before either of them had time to be embarrassed, Killian glanced at the Santa over Emma's shoulder and spotted him pulling out an iPad.
"Emma. It's him," he said in a low voice. "He's got his own device out."
They skated over to the benches slowly and calmly, not wanting to tip Santa off. They sat down and hastily pulled off their skates. Killian grabbed both pairs. "I'll go return these and get our shoes. Make sure he doesn't go anywhere!"
A few seconds after Killian walked away, Emma noticed the Santa shoving his stuff—and half of the kettle's cash–into a bag.
Looks like sock feet will just have to do, she thought as she advanced on him.
Unfortunately he chose that moment to look up and decided to turn tail and run.
"Hey!" Emma yelled. "Stop that Santa! He's a thief!"
She sped up, nearly tripping over the discarded kettle stand. Her feet were killing her, but she was gaining. Luckily, Santa was not exactly in top physical form.
Emma launched herself at him as she took her last strides and tackled him. Face down.
"You are bloody brilliant, lass!" Killian exclaimed.
Emma jumped a little—she hadn't heard him approach. Evidently he's seen the commotion, dropped the skates and rushed after her.
"Thanks. All in a day's work for a former bailbonds person," she replied.
Santa was struggling like the little weasel that he was.
"I'll sit on him, love. I wager he'll not feel so free to wiggle with me weighing him down," said Killian.
"Can you retrieve our shoes and call the police while I secure him, Swan?"
"Yep," she said as they switched places. "Back in a few."
Emma stood up, but then leaned down for a quick kiss, grinning bashfully.
The police and the charity's management showed up fairly quickly. Killian and Emma just had to give a brief statement and then they were free to go.
"So where were we?" Killian said as he put his arm around Emma's shoulder.
"I believe I was agreeing to be your date for New Year's," Emma said with a smile. "But New Year's is kind of a long way away. I think we should go to Liam's pub and warm up. You can introduce me to him—and mulled wine. I also have this Christmas tree to decorate…"
"Why Swan, you just can't wait to get your hands on my colorful balls can you," Killian said with a raised eyebrow.
"Just so you know, I don't pillage and plunder on the first date," Emma said.
"That's because you've never been out on a date with me," Killian replied.
Emma snorted.
"Come on Jones."
"Wait just one minute, Swan."
"Why?" she asked.
"Because," he said and pulled her toward him, kissing her thoroughly.
"Now this is where we left off," he murmured.
fin