Emma groaned as the smell of smoke hit her nose for what seemed the millionth time tonight. She muttered a string of choice curse words under her breath as she pulled the third burnt pie from the oven. For some stupid reason she had agreed to host a Christmas Eve party for a few of her friends from college and high school. Not like they would be expecting much, most of them had known her and her lack of cooking skills since middle school. However Mary Margaret and David would be hosting dinner tomorrow and Ruby would be taking the whole group out on the town on New Years Eve, so Emma had decided to try and do something for her friends this year.
Just as she had tossed the burnt offering of a pie on the draining board next to the sink. The soup began to curdle and heave up into a lump. "Shit" she muttered as smoke once again filled her small kitchen area and set off the fire alarm. There was a knock on the door. "Crap" she muttered again. Mary Margaret was always far too early for her own good.
Emma headed towards the door still fuming over the mess that had become her kitchen. She opened the door only to come face to face with her next door neighbour who was usually full of smirks and sexual comments, suprisingly enough he looked concerned. She shrugged it off, probably just because she looked like a mad woman being defeated by her own kitchen. He smiled charmingly at her. She smirked. He was just one of those guys who was just too handsome for his own good.
"Hello Swan. You alright,Lass?". He greeted her. She rolled her eyes at him. "Yes, Killian. I'm fine". He looked over her shoulder. "Well, Love. You're apartment certainly begs to differ, judging by the smell of it and besides isn't it customary to wish people Happy Holidays, considering tonight is Christmas Eve or do you prefer being more direct than usual". She shook her head. "I told you I'm fine. Thanks, Jones. Happy Holidays". She went to close the door, not exactly in the mood to humour him. He kept it open with his foot and proceeded to walk into her apartment, eyes going straight to the kitchen in the corner.
"Gods, Love. That's embarrassing". He said looking from her to the state of her kitchen. "No shit Sherlock". She muttered running to stop the potatoes from boiling over. He crouched down next to her beside the oven door. "Step aside, Lass. I've got this". She rolled her eyes knowing quite well he was only helping her out to fet her to go out with him. She told him so. He smiled putting his hand over his heart before picking one of the few remaining clean pots. "You wound me, Swan" he laughed, mockingly. "I'm just carrying out a dashing rescue". She rolled her eyes. "Dashing rescue, huh?". He smiled brightly. "Aye, Love". She shook her head and stubbornly added."Nobody saves me but me". He smiled. "Well then, Love. I'll just have to help you save yourself". Emma laughed. "Alright then".
Twenty minutes later that had a new batch of vegetables in the oven and another pot of soup cooking on the hob. Emma warched him as he stirred the gravy into the pot roast. "So why didn't you go home to Dublin for the holiday". She asked mentioning the city he always says is better than Boston could ever be. He shook his head sadly. "No family to go home to anymore, Love. My older brother Liam died in a car crash last year. My mother died when I was sixteen and my father was never in the picture". Emma looked down into the dish in front of them. "Sorry". He smiled sadly. "Thank you, Emma". He said using her first name for what felt like the first time since they met six months previously.
"What about yourself, Love. Do you have some huge family living at the other side of the city". She shook her head. "No, I grew up in the foster system". He looked away, suddenly very interested in the small current of smoke wafting from the boiled potatoes. "My apologies, Swan". She nodded. "Thanks".
A respectful silence hung in the air for several minutes. They stole short sympathetic glances at each other, daring the other to break the quietness. Kilian sighed, looking down at the saucepan of whisked eggs. "Well. I'm sure friends will be surely surprised by my...I mean you're cooking skills, Love". He grinned, mischievously. His eyebrows shooting up in a desperate attempt to cheer her up.
She rolled her eyes, laughing lightly, taking the fork she was using to stir gravy into the pot roast and flicking the brown sauce towards him. He laughed, his deep chuckle making the corners of her mouth quirk up into a smile. "That's bad form, Lass!". He cried, feigning outrage. She laughed making his smile grow wider. "And you're such a gentleman?". He smiled "I try, Swan. I try" while licking the gravy that had hit his face of the side of his mouth. Her eyes wandered down to his mouth momentarily, making him smirk softly and smile teasingly.
She snorted, looking over at the saucepan he was attending to as it smoked and burned, the contents that was supposed to be a cream sauce becoming scrambled. "Nice going there, Chef" she joked. Killian reluctantly turned his attention from her to the burning mess, cursing quietly under his breath. "Wouldn't have happened if my Sous Chef hadn't tried to distract me". He pointed out before declaring. "It was a masterpiece, Swan!". She laughed looking from his left as he dunked the burned saucepan into the soapy water in the sink. She snorted, elbowing him in the ribs from where she stood next to him by the draining board."I'll be the judge of that, thanks" she joked.
"Well, Love". He said, his face only inches from hers. "I'm afraid there is none left and no one but my good self, who unfortunately would be biased could testify that it was or wasn't a masterpiece". Emma smirked, humming slightly. "I don't think I'm going to take your word for that". Killian chuckled, feigning surprise."One way to find out,Love". He said tapping his bottom lip. "I tasted it before it went up in smoke".
Emma smiled seriously, leaning in so close she could feel his breath tickling her. "You couldn't handle it". Killian smiled teasingly. "Oh Swan, perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it". She grabbed a fistful of his flannel shirt with both of her hands tugging him forwards the final few vital centimetres, crashing his lips with hers. His mouth was warm and still tasted faintly of the rich cheesy creamy sauce he was making. His lips were soft and firms as they eagerly cover his mouth with hers. He smiled into her lips making herjoin him grinning into their kiss, lost in each other with the snow falling thick against the windows and the oven alive with heat and light. He wrapped both of his arms tightly but still comfortably around her waist, his fingers sliding into the belt loops of her jeans as both of her hands found their his dark hair.
Suddenly, the door bell went off. Awakening both of them from the state of bliss. "That was..." he said not quite finding the words as she went to get the door. She smiled turning back before answering the door. "Definitely not a one time thing". He smiled in agreement. "Do you want to stay" she asked quietly after hugging Mary Margaret, Ruby, David and Aurora as they all piled in the door varying between asking who Killian was, complimenting Emma on her decorations (In Mary Margaret's place). He smiled. "As you wish".
(He was there again the following year.)