Chapter 1: Christmas Karaoke

This is a short-ish, fluffy Christmas story.

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"Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock…a jingle bell shine and a jingle bell um…mine…fine…"

"Those aren't the words you idiot. Clean your glasses. Move over I've got this."

"I'm doing it. Hey, I'm singing here. GET OFF THE STAGE!"

"YOU GET OFF THE STAGE!"

A shoving match broke out as a drunk Doc and a drunker Happy wrestled over the microphone.

"This Christmas karaoke is a violent sort of sport," Killian muttered from the safety of the bar. "Funny how the screaming actually makes them sound better."

"Damn it you're ruining it."

"No, you're ruining it!"

"You spilled my drink!"

"It was my drink!"

"No it was mine…hey, you took my drink!"

Another round of shoving ensued, the crowd hooting and hollering as the two men shouted lyrics into the microphone.

Killian glanced at his watch. One hour. He'd been at Granny's annual Christmas party for one hour. In that time he'd heard Leroy warble out an Elvis-inspired "Blue Christmas," Ruby's titillating take on "Santa Baby" and Archie Hopper attempt "Christmastime in Hollis Queen."

As far as Kilian was concerned, he'd done his duty. He'd waved to a few of his clients, ordered a beer and now wanted nothing more than to head home and forget this night ever happened. He'd had his fill of Christmas cheer, enough to last him well into the spring.

"Christmas karaoke." Killian shook his head as he slid off his bar stool. He didn't understand it—this annual need to honor the Christ-child by drunkenly butchering "Jingle Bells" and "Last Christmas."

He was too busy fishing through his wallet for a tip to notice a very-drunk and very-merry Belle leaping towards him.

"Killian!" she cried happily as she swayed a bit. She leaned on his arm, unsteady after a few too many Jello shots and a few too many hours in impossibly high heels. He caught a shimmer of red hair as she tossed her curls over her shoulder. They matched the frilly little red dress that made her look like a tipsy Christmas elf.

"There you are! How are ya, mate? Where ya' been?"

"Ummm…here." He gestured to the bar stool. "I've been right here. For an hour. Same spot. Same beer. Nothing's changed since the last time we spoke."

"Really? Because I've been looking for you everywhere."

"I'm afraid to ask why."

"Beeeccaaussee…you haven't had a turn yet." Belle's soft accent tripped over the words as she slung an arm around his shoulders. "Come on Killian. You have to sing. You have to."

"I don't have to sing, love. In fact, I'm fairly certain the only thing I have to do tonight is avoid getting caught under the mistletoe with Leroy."

"Good luck with that," she chuckled. "He gets awfully grabby after a few Appletinis."

"All the more reason to leave."

"No!" Belle gripped Killian's leather jacket and roughly shook his lapels. "You have to stay. I wanna sing with you. Pleeeeaaaaasssseeeee. Please please please. It's fun!"

"No, it's not. Christmas karaoke is by definition 'not fun.' It's actually rather stupid. More stupid than I'm used to. Even for this town. And that's saying a lot."

"It's not stupid. I mean…" she thought for a moment, "if you're drunk it's not stupid. It's good clean fun. Fun for the whole family. Honestly, it's a Christmas party and you're being a grump. No, wait. Not a grump. A grinch. That's right. You're a grinch. The Grinch That Ruined Christmas Karaoke and… and… Oooohhh… look!"

Belle handed him the flipbook of songs. "They have 'Baby It's Cold Outside.' I love that song. And it's a duet. Come on. Let's do it. Let's du-et." She giggled. "Get it? Du-et? Do-it."

"Yes. Brilliant wordplay." He slapped a few dollars on the bar and saluted her. "And now I'm off."

"What!?"

He gestured to the Weather Channel playing silently on the flat screen overhead. "Winter storm warning, love. I'm leaving while I'm still sober and the roads are still clear. A storm's rolling inland and I'm not about to drive headlong into a blizzard."

"But who's going to sing with me?"

"I dunno. Try Will Scarlet. He's more than willing to do it with you." He paused for effect. "I mean…duet. Did I say do it? Because I meant to say duet."

Belle rolled her eyes. "You're a jackass."

"Ah, so I'm told. Now behave yourself. Don't do anything I wouldn't do…et. Du-et." He gave her a peck on the cheek and grabbed his heavy peacoat from a hook nearby.

Shrugging on his coat and tucking the collar up, he waved goodbye to the few of his friends who were still sober enough to notice he was leaving. Robin clapped him on the shoulder and dropped a cigar in his front pocket while Ruby managed to shove one of Granny's fruitcakes into his chest just before he reached the door.

"Wonderful. A fragrant doorstop. Just what I needed," Killian muttered under his breath, hefting the cake under his arm and bracing himself for the cold.

A puff of smoke and a whirl of snowflakes collided in the night air as the tavern door slammed shut behind him. The shadow of colorful Christmas lights and an off-key rendition of "Feliz Navidad" followed him across the parking lot. Fleshly fallen snow crunched under his boots as he jogged towards his jeep.

He was relieved that the holiday was finally crawling towards its tedious end. By next Monday everything would be back to normal. He could start prepping his marina for the influx of new members; those eager captains who required dockage for their shiny new toys—yachts and sailboats that would invariably be stored away until springtime.

Fumbling with his keys, he collapsed in the driver's seat with a sigh.

"Christmas. Bah humbug." The words fell from Killian's lips with an edge of malice. It was a cliché, but it somehow fit. He hated the cheap sentiment and childish merry-making and the forced seasonal cheer he was expected to demonstrate to random arseholes on the street.

And an evening of terrible karaoke and lukewarm eggnog wasn't going to change that. His friends had foisted hot-cocoa and on gingerbread on him, trying to get him to play whatever holiday-themed drinking game they invented—All in the name of Christmas cheer. All in the name of festive stupidity.

Waste of time was what it was. The Christmas spirit wasn't the flu. He couldn't catch it just from standing next to the afflicted.

Sighing, Killian eyed the slightly-scary fruitcake in his hands before tossing the thing into the backseat. It landed with a steeled thud he'd expect from a crowbar or a pile of rigging. The sound of it nearly drowned out the soft hum of his cell phone as it signaled a call.

His expression softened as he glanced at the caller ID and a photo of a stunning blonde flashed across the screen—Emma Swan, his best friend since high school and an intake counselor at the Locksley Group Home. She was certainly the most important person in Killian's life, and probably the only thing that kept him from truly turning into what Belle so eloquently described as "The Grinch That Ruined Christmas Karaoke."

"Hello Lovely," he answered warmly. He couldn't help the shadow of a smile that fell across his lips. "Having a Merry Christmas?"

"Killian? Are you…Is this…Are you home?"

His fingers tightened on the phone. He could hear the brittle edge to her voice and immediately knew something was wrong. His Swan wasn't the sort of girl to call a friend in tears on Christmas Eve. Strong lovely lass she was, she'd punch anyone in the gut and laugh in their face for ever suggesting such a thing.

"Swan, what's wrong?"

"Are you home?"

"Heading that way. Why? What happened? Tell me Lovely. Is it Henry? Is he all right?" Killian tried to keep his voice steady but even the thought of something happening to her little boy made him grip the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.

"He's fine. We're fine. Um…well…we're okay. But my car isn't."

"Your car?"

"We had a…kind of…accident." Her words came out in a tumble as she quickly explained. "There was a tree down in the road and I couldn't stop in time. We're not hurt. But the car won't start and the radio said they're closing the bridge soon and I don't know if I can get a tow truck out here …"

The jeep screeched out of the parking lot before she was able to finish her sentence. The thought of Swan and her boy stranded out in this mess, with a storm bearing down like them like the wrath of God sent a chill through him.

"Where are you Lovely? Tell me where you are. I'm on my way."