So, I couldn't resist a little attempt at Christmas-y fluff for our princess and pirate. There are three to four chapters planned for this as Killian is introduced to some modern Christmas traditions, and he and Emma both finally get to share the holiday season with someone they love. I hope to have it all posted by Christmas Day, so please let me know if you're enjoying it as we go along.

I definitely don't own them, I only wish I could see this much sugar-y sweetness played out on the show!

"Christmas for Pirates"

By: TutorGirlml

and Twinkle Lights

"Swan! What manner of sparkling material is this?" Emma hears her pirate bellowing from the front room of her new cottage not far from Storybrooke's harbor. With a long-suffering sigh and roll of her eyes toward the ceiling, she moves to go and discover what her erstwhile boyfriend has gotten into. Knowing that she really can't fault him for being either oddly concerned or intrigued by everyday things – he is from another century and world – Emma still cannot keep from shaking her head and laughing to herself at his cluelessness. When she re-enters the main room though, she makes a real effort to bite the inside of her cheek and keep a straight face. The poor man is trying to help her decorate for Christmas and appear to know what is going on. However, seeing the marauding Captain Hook with a string of silver tinsel pinched between thumb and forefinger and held away from his body suspiciously, one brow raised in worried inspection, is almost too much for her tenuous composure.

His startling blue eyes rise to study her face, narrowing upon seeing the obvious amusement at his expense that she is fighting to hold in. Clearing her throat, she keeps her voice steady – if barely so – to answer. "It's called tinsel. We put it on the branches of the Christmas tree. It adds…sparkle," she elaborates, already expecting his response.

"Bloody ridiculous bit of string," is his bewildered and half-exasperated retort. "I still don't understand why the tree goes in the house to begin with, now you would have me believe you strew bits of glitter paper everywhere for sheer entertainment?"

"Pretty much," she affirms succinctly with a firm nod. In all honesty, she knows she probably has gone a bit overboard this year with the decorations and Christmas festivities, and that it must seem like a baffling waste of time and energy to someone who has never really celebrated the holiday or even seen it practiced. Still, Emma isn't going to let that stop her. Killian Jones may ask a lot of questions, but his willingness to make her happy, to do all within his power to see that she – and Henry – have anything they could want or need, never seems to falter. She's grateful for it, and hopes that somewhere in his quest to humor them, her pirate will be won over by the holiday spirit as well.

With the furtive knowledge of one who knows she is still withholding the best part of a surprise, she moves to his side, taking up some of the tinsel herself from the box where it is stored, and showing him how to toss it gently over to the tree, so it flutters down to rest haphazardly across the benches.

Shaking his head as if he clearly finds her crazy, Killian wears an amused smirk on his face, but leaves off from avidly studying her profile to turn toward the tree and copy her motions with his own bunch of the silvery streamers. In fact, as is often the case, he becomes concertedly fixed on his task, focused on doing it just so – for her – and tuning out all other distractions.

Soon, Emma cannot help herself, and the next handful of the sparkling strings she grabs, she flings laughingly into his face.

Killian startles backward, before righting himself and brushing the tinsel from his hair and face. "Ah, playing dirty, are you, Swan?" he questions, voice a dangerous, rakish tease of his lilting cadence. His eyes narrow as he steps toward her, hand and hook reaching out to catch her up in his arms.

Whether it is the twinkle of mirth in his eyes, her lighthearted relief at the Shattered Sight spell being broken, the Dark One gone, and all her loved ones still here and safe again, or just some magical amalgam of both those things, Christmas itself, and her joy at finally having someone like Killian to share it with in this way, Emma isn't sure. Instead of questioning it though, she gives herself over to the playful delight that sweeps over her, shrieking and darting away from him to the other side of the tree.

"Don't think you will evade me easily, Lass," Hook intones, ducking and dodging one way and another around the tree as well, just as she is, both of them trying to see who will be first to fake the other out. She has laughingly called it his 'menacing pirate' voice on more than one occasion. All teasing aside, the timber and intent of it more often than not sends shivers skittering down her spine. She is too proud to admit it, though she expects he knows, so she settles for mocking instead.

He is laughing almost as helplessly as she is at this point, though they are still diving and weaving around the room; her staying just out of his reach, and him lunging after her. Finally, dizzily, Emma collapses on the couch, out of breath from the laughter and exertion of circling the small room and avoiding the half-wrapped piles of presents scattered across the floor. Pulling Killian down after her, her giggles suddenly cease and her mouth goes dry at the expression that comes over his face.

"Now I've got you, my bonny girl," he murmurs, voice dropping lower as he actually licks his lips and moves ever closer. "I warned you the penalty of crossing a pirate."

She grins broadly in spite of herself, pleased with the turn of events, and as he lowers his mouth to capture hers, to pillage and plunder, she reaches up to snake her arms around his torso and pulls him down, flush against her, holding him close. Emma is trapped between her pirate and the couch cushions and there is nowhere else she would rather be. A whoosh of air escapes her lungs as his delicious heat engulfs her, and Emma wonders for a second if she has stopped breathing, then tosses the quandary aside, thinking, 'If I have, then what a way to go…'

Several long, luxurious minutes pass, before they finally pull apart, having to draw in air. Killian is the one to right himself and offer his hand to help her sit up too. "Well, Love," he offers sheepishly, brushing a loose tendril of hair off her face gently with his hook and tucking it over her shoulder, "you'll have to forgive an old pirate, but you are quite the distracting treasure. Much more beautiful than any dead stalk of greenery or silver string."

Emma flushes to the roots of her hair and can hardly meet his eyes. She may never grow used to such open adoration, but she has finally come to trust his sincerity. Whether or not she can fathom why, she believes Killian means what he says, and she feels the warmth of it all the way to the depths of her soul. She forces herself to meet his eyes as he brushes a light kiss to her knuckles and holds her gaze unwaveringly. At last, she manages to get a soft whisper past her short-circuiting vocal chords, remembering the surprise she has yet to unveil. "Ah…that may be because you still haven't seen the best part."

Killian cocks his head at her, confusion evident in his handsome features, until she makes her way back over to the wall behind the tree and reaches around to plug in the dazzling white twinkle lights she had wound around it that morning before he'd arrived.

Her dashing rapscallion does look a bit awed at the sudden brilliance of their tree, and his gaze is appropriately reverent as he takes it all in for a moment. She crosses back to sit beside him once more, taking his hand and snuggling into his embrace, content just to be with him, enjoying this bit of calm and taking it all in.

His voice is actually hoarse and soft enough that she barely hears it when Killian speaks once more. "The wonders of your modern world really never do cease," he says honestly. "It truly is a marvel, Emma…" The way his voice caresses her name makes her heart beat fast, but she doesn't speak, sensing he isn't finished, "…but it cannot hold a candle to you."

Emma's breath catches at his heartfelt words, and the lights from the tree swim a bit blurrily in her vision at the emotion he invokes within her. She wants to thank him, to return the sentiment, but words fail her. She merely pulls up his hand to kiss the back of it, and then wraps it more tightly around herself, snuggling even more fully against his side. Somehow she knows that even if she can't speak a word, he understands.