an: thanks for your support for this fic! we'll be in Storybrooke soon and then the real magic can begin! ;)

four.

He actually holds up his end of the deal. He doesn't have anybody over, and as an added bonus, he doesn't play his music half as loud as he usually does.

Emma kind of feels sorry for him, because he's about to return to the home that apparently he's spent six years trying to stay away from, and not only that, he's returning home on a con. It's probably not the way he might have dreamed of making his big return in the slightest.

Emma somehow gets her boss to agree to giving her the week off when she explains that her kid is sick and she needs the time to help him get better, and honestly, it's starting to feel like a sick joke to her that she's doing this for Killian Jones.

He's not her favorite person in the whole world, with his behavior and attitudes, and yet, he's managed to break into her mind and start niggling at the back end of her every thought.

So, okay, maybe she's been hard on him because she hates the way he'd tried to become friends right off the bat. He's not that bad of a person, she knows now, despite the fact that he tends to keep her up nightly with all the noise coming from his side of the other wall.

He has wounds that hurt and he has fond memories that bring bright light to his eyes. And he's gentle and kind with Henry, so it's not like he's a monster. He's just an idiot and she doesn't have time for him being an idiot while he tries getting his life together.

Emma lies awake listening to the sound of Henry sleeping early the morning she's supposed to meet Killian in the hallway for their trip up to Maine.

Truthfully, she's only really been hard on him because of her past experiences with guys. They haven't all been great, and one of them abandoned her with three months left in her pregnancy.

Killian isn't a bad guy. He's just as hurt as she is. But he's managing it in quite possibly the worst way ever.

On a groan, Emma buries her face into her pillow and tries to wipe away the memories she has of their night out with the Nolan's, with their kind hearts and stories that went on for hours.

She tries to forget how Killian had stared at her in certain moments, at the way his hand felt against hers, and how, despite all of the lies, he'd told them the truth about their meeting.

For a lie to seem natural, it should be rooted in some truth, she supposes.

"Mama," Henry says, suddenly awake and standing in his crib when she looks at him.

Emma laughs and crawls down her bed to go grab him. She takes him into her bed with her and cuddles close to him, leaving kisses on his cheeks.

"Hi, Henry," she whispers. Emma strokes his hair back. "Did you sleep good? Huh?"

Henry babbles at her and she plays with his fingers as he sits contentedly in her lap. "We're going on a trip today, monkey."

Emma takes her fingers through his hair and smiles softly. "You need to be really good, okay?"

She thinks about how long they're going to be gone for, considers all of the potential disasters that are to come, and sighs heavily.

In just a little while, they're going to be going to Maine and they're going to pretend to be a family with one Killian Jones.

It's not the worst way to spend a week, especially considering that her plans for Christmas included taking Henry to see the tree at Rockefeller Plaza and maybe visiting Santa if she had the time. She hadn't even really planned on taking off work, because she's kind of been trying to get out of New York, ever since she'd moved here. It just hasn't felt like home, and it's pricey as all get out.

Regardless of whatever frustration she has about Killian Jones and his decision to make her his model wife, she's about to do this. She's about to do this for Henry, who has had the busiest year a little boy could possibly have.

She wants to give him the best she possibly can. She wants him to have the life she wasn't able to because of the life her birth parents gave to her when they left her on the side of the road.

There's just something about the way David and Mary Margaret painted the picture of Storybrooke that's drawn her in. It seems not only safe, but also warm, and inviting, there.

And despite her baser judgments, Emma wants to know what it feels like to have a home. Even if it's only for a week.

/

Killian lies in his bed the morning he's due to go back home regretting every decision he's ever made leading up to this point.

He probably shouldn't have left Storybrooke in the first place, but here he is, not in Storybrooke, living the life he swore to himself, and to David, that he'd never live.

And it's the thought of David getting the upper hand that makes Killian feel just confident enough to do this again.

Emma and Henry aren't going to be collateral damage. If anything, they're just along for the trip out of state, and he knows Emma silently appreciates the fact that he's given her the opportunity for giving Henry a Christmas.

She works as a waitress, he thinks, because he's seen her in her little outfit with the nametag still attached to her chest. He's also seen her heading out with a bag over her shoulder, so part of him wonders if she's also attempting to attend school.

Either way, he's blown away by just about every single word that falls from her lips. He might talk a big game, but he knows she's far too good for him.

From her side of their shared wall, he hears her get up out of bed, only to return a few moments later with a chattering baby in her arms.

It's a rather sweet sound, Henry talking in his little voice while Emma soothes him. Killian finds himself almost wishing he could be over there, squeezing Henry's little fingers and toes, giving his head kisses while he breathes him in.

"We're going on a trip today, monkey." Emma says, and he grins at the nickname she's given to her son. "You need to be really good, okay?"

Henry makes a rather loud noise and Emma laughs. Killian shifts his arm to rest above his head, straining to hear her because she's happy.

She's so bloody beautiful when she's happy and he can't even see the crinkles by her eyes or the dimples in her cheeks, but he knows they're there.

"We're going to meet so many people," Emma murmurs. "And you can't get upset when Killian wants to hold you, okay? He's… he's your daddy for now."

Killian's heart skips a beat and he drags his hand over his face.

"Kind of," Emma amends a second later. "It's confusing. Mommy doesn't like it. But I wanted to give you a good Christmas, monkey. We can have yummy food and see Christmas lights. And there will be lots of snow, so we're going to have to bundle you up warm."

Killian's lips curl into a smile. His teeth dig into his lower lip as he turns onto his side so he can stare at his alarm clock.

"And you'll get plenty of kisses and cuddles," Emma promises her son. "And this year, your dad won't try to take you from me because he's far, far away from us."

For a moment, he wonders about this mysterious father of Henry's. He knows only bits and pieces about Emma, and the father of her son is something in particular that she works quite hard at keeping from him.

He supposes it's a part of her past that's much like his in that she'd like to put it behind her and work her way around it. Neither one of them are very good at it. Maybe it's why they're so electric when they're together.

"I love you, Henry," Emma's voice is quiet. "And I really hope this is a good year for us."

His alarm goes off and Killian shuts it off with a sigh, glaring at the numbers. He hears Emma shift on the other side of the wall, her head falling back against it.

"We'd better get up, huh?" she asks, and he thinks she's talking to Henry, but then she knocks on the wall twice. "I know you're awake, Killian."

He smiles, because he can't help it, and pushes himself up so he's leaning back against the wall where her voice comes from.

"You've got excellent hearing."

Emma hums. "It's a mom thing."

Killian laughs and drags his fingers through his hair. "Well, then, yes, it's time to get up. We've got a few hours' drive and I know you'll probably want the grand tour when we arrive."

From the other side of the wall, Emma is quiet.

"You know, this is the most idiotic thing I think I've ever done in my life and I've done a lot of dumb crap." Emma tells him.

Killian tips his head back so he's staring at his ceiling. "Aye, well, this isn't my greatest adventure, either."

They both sit in silence, backs to the thin wall between them, and he hears Emma turn, her sheets scraping under the sound of her shifting motion.

"I've got a question for you, Emma," he says quietly.

"Yeah?"

He reaches up to press his hand against the wall and licks his lips. "Do you actually paint?"

It takes her a few seconds to respond. "I did. Before Henry was born. Before… a lot of things." She pauses. "I grew up in the foster system, so painting was the only thing that was constant for a long time."

Killian's heart aches, for the little girl who was passed from home to home, without ever finding a place to call hers. He can see it in her eyes that she's an orphan, just as he and Liam are. At least he had Liam, for whatever time that was.

He closes his eyes as he tries to think of what kinds of art she must have come up with, and he likes to imagine that she'd be rather talented with the brush, knowing how gently she'd scrubbed the dishes in her sink the other day.

"I'd love to see your art sometime, Swan."

Emma laughs. "Of course you would."

Killian sighs. The moment is over. She's running from him.

"Emma Swan," he murmurs her name, shaking his head. "Whatever will I do with you?"

/

Killian has this old pickup truck that he takes her to after leaving the building with their bags. He says it's his brother's, that he'd come to New York after stealing it, and never intended on bringing it back home.

She can almost see it now: the truck getting just as much of a warm welcome as Killian will, if not more, if his friends and family don't really care to see him again.

"You're going to have to put this bottom part in," Emma informs him, holding out the base of the car seat for him to take as soon as she opens the passenger's side door.

He grumbles a little, giving her a look. "I wasn't aware my husbandly duties extended to the trip beforehand."

Emma lifts an eyebrow, adjusting Henry on her hip. "Hey, buddy, you're the one that wants us there."

Her companion chuckles. "Aye. I suppose that's true."

On a heavy sigh, he opens up the cab door and boosts himself inside.

Killian installs the car seat with quite a deal of grief, cursing under his breath while Emma sways with Henry in the snow. She watches him with a lifted eyebrow, and he pulls himself back when it's finished, breathless.

"There. It's all set."

She checks it to see how well he'd done, and she's pleasantly surprised to find that he'd done it right. Emma settles Henry into his car seat and then drops down to stand outside of the truck with Killian, her breath coming out in a puff of white air.

"Okay," she says. "Well, he's ready to go."

She drops her arms to her sides and sighs so her breath fills the space between them. Her brow creases as she stares at Killian and he smirks at her.

"Are you ready to go, Swan?" Killian asks.

Emma licks her lips and tilts her head at him in a challenge. "If you are."

Killian hums. He digs into his jean pocket and pulls out two very familiar gold bands. Of course. It's all part of looking the part.

She gives him a hard look, but he just smiles and falls onto his knee, in the snow, and says, "Emma Swan, will you be my fake wife for the week?"

Emma rolls her eyes so hard she thinks they might fall out of her head.

"Get out of the snow, you idiot."

She plucks the ring from his hand and yanks him to his feet. All the while, he's smirking at her like he's won a prize.

Emma slides the ring on over her finger and holds her hand up at him. "Okay. Promise this is only going to be the week, because I can't-"

"It's only for the week, love," Killian tells her as he slides his ring on. He takes a deep breath and lifts his shoulders and his eyebrows. "And as soon as it's done, we won't ever have to see those people again."

There's something in his tone, and in the way he so quickly carries himself off so he's hopping into the driver's side, that touches on years of pent up tension.

She doesn't know the exact details of what happened, but she has a feeling that mostly, it was the loss of his girlfriend that sent him into a downward spiral, David got angry with him, and somehow Killian got to where he is now: faking a happy family and life in order to prove him wrong.

It's kind of a sad reality when she thinks about it.

And, of course, she's no better, hopping into the truck beside him.

She hasn't ever had an actual family in her whole life, so all of this talk of small town intimacy has chills running down her spine, and it's not just because it's freezing cold out.

Killian starts his truck as Emma buckles in and she looks back at Henry, who bounces his feet in his chair and babbles to himself. Turning forward again, she sets eyes on Killian first, who has his jaw clenched as he pulls the vehicle into drive. He licks his lips and furrows his brow.

It's not the first time she's thought about how attractive he is. But the thing about him is that she kind of can't stand him, even though they're just barely friends and doing this horribly ridiculous con together.

Emma averts her attention to the road ahead of them and allows herself to watch their surroundings for a little while, but then she realizes Killian's taking the completely wrong way and she turns to him again.

"You're not taking the highway?" she asks.

Killian shakes his head. "We are. We're just going this way for a few miles first."

Emma gives him a look. "That's going to take like half an hour longer than necessary."

Killian focuses on the road ahead. "What, you don't want to spend time with your husband?"

His tone is completely normal, as if he's just asking a simple question, but his eyebrows lift and he wears a dangerous smirk on his lips when he briefly looks at her.

Emma rolls her eyes. "You're not even- oh my God." She punches him in the side and he flinches, swerving the car a little. "Killian! There's a baby in the car. Could you watch yourself for once in your life?"

"Then you've got to stop physically abusing me, love, because I can't help but flinch when you hit me." He complains, practically whining at her.

They drive in complete silence for a few long moments, the only noise being the rush of the tires against the road and the traffic around them.

Henry makes a happy sound and grabs his toes when Emma glances back to check on him.

At least her kid isn't as pissed as she is about this whole thing.

"I can't believe I agreed to do this for you."

"Think of the reward, Swan. An honest Christmas for Henry." Killian says. "Well, not completely honest, but… a Christmas nonetheless."

Emma groans and tucks her hair behind her ears under her beanie. She focuses again on the road and takes a few deep breaths to steady herself.

Killian turns on his stupid road that'll add time to their drive and Emma just sighs softly, telling herself to just have patience because Killian is paying her rent for the month and while she might hate him for his behaviors, deep down he's a good man. He's just hiding somewhere beneath the flirtation.

"So…" Killian says, glancing over at her just as she looks at him. "Henry's dad. Would you tell me about him if I asked?"

Emma laughs once. "He's a real piece of work. That's all that matters about him." She turns her head to cushion it on her shoulder as she stares out the window. "He's out of the picture now."

It gets quiet again until Killian asks, "Where'd you grow up?" He pauses. "Well, where'd you spend the most time? I know you said you were in the system."

"None of your business," Emma murmurs. She turns her attention to look ahead.

"Well it is if someone asks us where you're from and I say one thing and you say another."

Emma huffs a sigh. "Okay. Then we'll say I'm from… Ohio. I moved to the city to pursue my art and go to school."

Killian hums. She can sense his silent judgment, so she reaches for the radio and turns it on. She makes a face at the music that plays through the speakers.

"Seriously, Killian? I would never have pegged you for classical music."

He just shrugs. "It's soothing."

Emma scoffs. She switches the station to one that plays Christmas music, but then grimaces at the song and opts to turn it back off instead.

She sits back and wiggles her fingers on her thighs.

She stares at her "wedding" band and finds it oddly at home on her hand. While she had never thought about marriage before suddenly being married to Killian Jones, suddenly she's thinking about what she could possibly be missing.

And then the idiot leans forward to switch the radio back on.

There's a reason Emma doesn't want a relationship with anyone, and for the most part, it's because she hasn't found a single person she can trust. Everyone has abandoned her, or has found a way to hurt her in some way, and Emma's tired of it.

Killian Jones is just an annoying neighbor that she's somehow gotten messily entangled with. After it's over, she's already planning on what she'll say to the landlord in order to get him removed.

She waits for him to lean away from the radio before flicking it off again.

"What's wrong with that song?" he asks defensively.

"It's annoying," Emma states. "It's the equivalent to hearing nails on a chalkboard."

Killian bursts out laughing. "I find it hard to believe that you actually think that about a three minute song about the magic of Christmas."

Emma narrows her eyes pointedly at him. "I believe what I believe."

Thankfully, he allows them to sit in silence rather than listening to the music playing over the airwaves.

"You know, it's about a six hour drive," Killian tells her after a little while. "We should probably talk about something."

Emma gives him a look. "And what would you like to talk about, Killian?" He smiles and winks at her. "God, this is perfect for you, isn't it? This is what you've wanted since you met me."

Killian shrugs his shoulders. "It'll suffice."

Emma hums.

She looks ahead at the road, contemplating just how much she wants to talk about, and she realizes that heartache would come just a little too easily in this situation, with them pretending to be married, so she keeps her mouth shut.

It gets a little annoying when Killian starts rapping his fingers against the steering wheel of his truck, and even more annoying when he starts to sing Christmas carols under his breath, so Emma says, "Fine. You can ask me three questions."

Killian grins wickedly at her. "Do you have any siblings?"

It's a softball and she feels like she can handle it. She shakes her head. "Nope."

Killian considers his second question carefully. He sits up straighter and glances at her as he asks, "How old are you?"

"Twenty four."

He hums. "I'm twenty seven."

Emma doesn't respond to his statement. She just keeps staring on ahead at the traffic before them.

"Wow. Last question." Killian murmurs, releasing a sigh. "Well, I could ask you what you like to do for fun, but I think I already know that answer."

"You do, do you?" Emma teases, lifting an eyebrow.

He hums. "You're an artist. Or… you were."

Emma nods her head. "I already told you that one this morning."

"Right," Killian agrees, lifting his fingers slightly off of the wheel. His tongue digs into his cheek. "I could ask you what you do for work but I feel like that would be a waste of a question as well. I've got a fairly good idea about that."

Emma narrows her eyes at him. "What are you trying to prove, Killian? That you somehow know me? You don't."

Killian's eyebrows dance when she looks at him. He tilts his head to the side. "You're something of an open book, Swan."

"Oh, okay," Emma humors him with a nod. She rolls her eyes and turns her attention to the side window.

They sit in silence for a solid five minutes before Killian says, "I think I'll save my third question for later, if that's alright with you."

"That's fine."

She assumes it'll happen within the minutes that follow, but it doesn't. And it doesn't even happen a few hours into their trip.

Whenever it's going to happen, Emma has a feeling she'll be caught backed against a corner with no choice but to be honest with him.

And that scares her.