Chapter Four

In a tucked away back room of the house, Emma had discovered a home gym. To her surprise, this lone room seemed to be one of the very few that had been set up and in use prior to this arrangement as the equipment was a few years old and showing signs of wear. There was a full set up including a treadmill, step machine, stationary bike, a line of free weights, a boxing bag hanging from the ceiling, a wire shelf full of miscellaneous equipment and a full wall of mirrors. Made sense that he would do at least some amount of physical conditioning, she thought, judging from Killian's appearance. It took a minute to get her phone linked to the bluetooth speakers that were mounted in each of the ceiling's corners to give a surround sound experience, but once that had been figured it out, she strapped on the smallest pair of mitts she could find and went after the bag. The chance to exercise in a real gym like this was thrilling to Emma and it showed in the weight she threw into that weighted bag. She hadn't had an opportunity to do so in such a long time. More often than not, all she had at her disposal were a stack of dated workout DVDs in Mary Margaret's living room after Henry had gone to bed. And even though something was better than nothing, it didn't feel like the same payoff as time spent with good equipment. Time and distractions melted away there with just the sounds of her music and the dull thuds of her gloved hands as they made contact with the bag.

Emma's thoughts drifted to Killian earlier that morning… she had startled at the sight of him coming into the bathroom to brush his teeth, but he had barely acknowledged her presence through the thick cloud of sleep that still blurred his vision. He was frustratingly cute with his messy hair, day old stubble and sleepy eyes... and she could have laughed out loud because of how surreal - yet so somehow natural - this situation she found herself in was shaping up to be. Even though she should have been, and up until that point thought she was, eager to get it over with and go back to her life as it was… Her real life, not this stage play. Well, something in the way he looked at her and his cautious, small smiles even in private made her question everything. And even in those moments she wasn't sure if it was just him getting caught up in the moment of the performance or if there was something more. Nonetheless, his presence was strangely comforting and familiar. And she knew that, at least a small part of her, would miss it when it was gone and she was left alone in the cold world yet again.

Later that morning, after the strenuous workout was finished and she had a chance to shower and dress, she found everyone in the kitchen eating breakfast. A big pan of now room temperature cinnamon rolls sat out on the island and several were missing; the smell of coffee, tea and sticky sweet pastries filled her senses and warmed her heart.

"What'd I miss? It smells like a bakery in here," she said, resting a hand softly on Henry's shoulder.

"Just the best cinnamon rolls in the whole world! How'd you learn to make these so good, dad?"

"Er, time, trial and error I suppose," Killian chuckled, a little embarrassed by the compliment.

"Haven't you had them before?" Belle asked, and they all stared at her, in temporary panic.

"Well sure," Henry rubbed his mouth on his sleeve in recovery and shrugged, "I guess I just never asked when he got so good at making them!"

"That's for sure, usually Henry is too busy stuffing his face to ask many questions," Emma smiled. After the moment had passed Belle pressed her hands together and looked at them all expectantly.

"So! What shall we do today? It's my first time to celebrate Christmas in New York City so I'm hoping to make my time here memorable. I've seen loads on the television over the years, so I simply have to see for myself while I can!"

"I might have some ideas," Henry said, smugly.

"Oh and what might those be?" Killian asked.

Following the first item on Henry's list they arrived in the city and headed straight for Central Park. Killian had made a call and pulled some strings with the horseback riding business from the train that morning and managed to squeeze in a spot for that very afternoon.

Killian wasn't sure who was more excited, Henry or Belle, as they signed all the liability paperwork and were escorted to the stables. Emma, however, seemed a little unsure. It amused him to see her looking less than confident.

"What's wrong, love?" he asked in just above a whisper.

"Never been on a horse before." She admitted, as equally quiet and only a hint of nervousness in her tone.

"There's nothing to it," he assured her, "I'll show you."

"You know how to ride?"

"There's quite a bit about me you still don't know, love."

"Hm."

In the stables, one of the hired hands saddled the horses and helped the group find properly fitting helmets. Henry gave Belle his hand and helped her get atop her horse before he climbed up on his own.

"Come on, mom! Let's go!"

Emma looked at the brown and white mare she had been paired with. Both weary of each other. She found herself looking at Killian, completely lost as what to do next.

"Don't be nervous, love. If you're nervous, she will be too," he rubbed the horse's long forehead gently and invited her to do the same. Both she and the horse visibly relaxed a bit.

"There. Much better. Allow me?" he extended his hand to help her up.

"...Thanks."

Once she had mounted the saddle, he pulled himself up on the solid black horse he had been brought. It was a very handsome beast. The four of them were making their way out of the stables to the designated trail when Killian heard a voice he recognized.

"Woah there," came the voice of Robin Locksley, his brown horse making its way back to the stable.

"Robin?" Killian asked, pulling on the reigns of his own steed to stop it from going on autopilot at the sight of the trail.

"Killian? What are you doing here?"

"I might ask you the same. Not here checking up on me on my brother's behalf, are you?"

Robin chuckled, "No… nothing like that. You see -"

"Robin?" Another voice that was vaguely familiar. He couldn't quite place where he knew it from but once he saw the approaching horse and its rider his eyes grew wide and he nearly laughed aloud.

"Hold on, is that?" Killian couldn't believe it.

"Oh! Hello there, Mr. Jones. This is certainly… unexpected."

Yes, it was truly Regina Mills in the flesh. Killian could have fallen off his horse he was so surprised.

"Yes I should say it is! Nice to see you again, Regina."

She nodded and guided her horse into the stables.

"What exactly is going on here, mate?"

"If you must pry… I'm on a date." Robin conceded.

"With Regina?"

"Who else do you see me with?"

"Right. Well, good luck with that," he managed, the amusement written all over his face impossible to hide.

Robin rolled his eyes.

"Robin?" Regina called, now sounding a bit annoyed that he hadn't followed.

"Coming." He answered, waving farewell to Killian.

"Who was that?" Emma tried to whisper once he had caught up to the rest of his group. It was probably someone she was supposed to know.

"Robin Locksley. Same level up in the company as David, and more importantly than that - my brother's best mate. They've been friends since they were teenagers."

"What's he doing here? Did they know we would be here somehow?"

"No nothing like that. He's on a date with my interior designer."

"Well that's a bizarre coincidence."

"You're telling me, love."

The ride went through the Northern end of the park and lasted about an hour and a half. By the time they had dismounted and were making their way back to the busy city streets at the park's edge to continue the day's activities, Emma was trailing the group by a significant distance that only grew more noticeable.

"What's wrong, Swan? You're moving slower than usual," Killian asked, hanging back to wait for her.

"Nothing, go on ahead. I'll catch up." she lied, stone faced.

"I see… Say, fancy a race to the street corner?"

"Do you fancy a beating?"

"Ah hah but you'd have to catch me first!" he teased and winked at her.

"Okay you win. It was the horseback riding, if you must know. I'm already sore in places I didn't know could get sore."

"Ah, should have guessed as much. I'm sorry, love. It can happen if you're not used to riding. Care for an arm to rest your weight against?" he extended his forearm as a peace offering.

"No. I can make it just fine on my own. I just need to go slow for now. How is Henry not sore? He's never been on a horse either."

"It's because he's still a young lad. Children seem to have an easier time with things like that. And… I hate to be the one to tell you, but tomorrow will be worse."

"Fantastic."

"Mom?" Henry called back. "You okay?"

"I'm fine! Just need to go a little slower for a few minutes. We'll catch up at the next street corner, you stay with Miss French!"

"If you say so!"

Henry and Belle continued on and the gap between the four of them continued to grow wider.

"So! Other than the sore regions, are you having a good time?"

She smiled even though she didn't want to and nodded her head, "Yeah. I kind of hate to admit it, but so far I am having a good time. Thanks."

"You're welcome. I'm enjoying myself as well."

"No acting today?"

"No acting today."

"Even if I ask for that arm now?"

"Of course, love."

...

Up ahead on the sidewalk, Belle and Henry were having a chat of their own.

"Did you have fun, Miss French?"

"Oh so much, Henry! I haven't been riding since I was a girl…" She got a far away look in her eye as the nostalgia rushed over her. She could practically smell the meadows and fields of her childhood.

"Was it pretty where you grew up?" he tilted his head up at her in wonder.

"Well… When he decided he wanted to do something other than the shipping business and take his shot at inventing, my father and mother moved to this beautiful quaint little town in France. That's where I was born and grew up and it was like living in a fairy tale book. There's nothing like the French countryside, Henry. I still own a little house out there and so someday, you and your family will have to come visit me. I'll show it to you and I promise it will change your life for the better."

"That sounds awesome. But… My life is already changed for the better."

"How do you mean?"

"Oh… it's nothing I guess. With you being here I get to spend more time with Dad… Usually he's so busy with his work..." Henry trailed off without meaning to and fell quiet.

They walked for another moment before Henry found his voice again.

"Hey Miss French?"

"Yes?"

"D-do you believe in miracles?"

"Oh yes of course! Especially Christmas miracles."

"Christmas miracles?"

She smiled at him in a way that made him feel fuzzy inside before squinting her face up to try and put her words together in a way that would make sense.

"You see Henry, there's so much more magic to be found around Christmas time… It's when dreams, wishes and miracles are far more likely to come true! That's what my mother and father used to tell me, anyway. And I've always believed it."

"Christmas miracles…," Henry took a fast sweeping glance over his shoulder and saw his mother smiling in a way he couldn't remember her smiling before, "Yeah. I think I believe that too."

They went to a small cafe near the Met for lunch so Belle could see the square and some of the practically legendary window displays. The afternoon was spent sight seeing, lead by Henry (though Killian's company provided the car). More talk of the coming snowstorm interrupted the carols on the radio from time to time. Seemed it was coming after all. Killian didn't think much of it, instead choosing to focus on Belle and Henry's singing. He liked hearing the songs again after so long without them. Emma's voice didn't join them though and that saddened him. He couldn't help but wonder what her singing was like. They ate dinner at a little French restaurant Killian knew of. Not much to look at from the outside, he assured, but it was deceptive. He couldn't have been more right. The food was delicious and Belle had a short, friendly conversation in her native tongue with their waiter. It must have been a nice chat because he didn't charge them for the desserts. Now the sun was gone and they made their way to the last destination. Henry had always, his whole life, dreamed of ice skating at Rockefeller Plaza around the massive tree and now that he had a rich dad for Christmas that was exactly what he was going to do.

"Oh my God he's out to get me." Emma grumbled, tying the laces of the rented skates, her body crying in pain.

"What do you mean, love?"

"I haven't been ice skating since I can't even remember when. So this on top of the horse riding… I'm not going to be able to move tomorrow." She admitted. She would have to make a point to show him that she was good at something and soon.

"Come now. It's like getting on a bike, Swan."

"Haven't ridden a bike since I was a kid, either."

"No need to be prickly. I'll be right by you at the start if you'd like?"

"We'll see. With any luck I'll pick it back up faster than I think."

Sure enough, after one shaky lap, she slowly found her legs again. Killian never strayed too far, despite the determination in her eyes and blades. It was obviously difficult for her to be seen as anything less than in control.

"Catch me if you can, mom!" Henry called over his shoulder, playfully.

"Oh I'm gonna get you!"

The world fell away and it was just the two of them again. Belle slid up next to Killian so they were now in sync.

"They are absolutely lovely, Killian. You must be so proud of your little family."

"So much more than you could know," he smiled, watching the mother and son glide over the ice, their smiles as bright as the dazzling tree in the middle of the rink.

Emma's sore legs eventually caught up to her and she suddenly wasn't as sure on her feet. But before her knees buckled and collided onto the ice, Killian's hands had her. Gliding round in front of her, he didn't let go as she held his forearms tightly and steadied herself again. The sudden proximity of him made her pause unintentionally for a moment. Her bright green eyes stared up at him making it so he couldn't remember how to breath properly. He was sure he looked like an absolute idiot but also didn't really care very much.

"Thanks," her voice finally broke the trance, and the outside noises swelled back into his consciousness, "I think I'm okay now."

"It's… it's nothing."

"Maybe next time I'll save you," she smiled, moving away from the protection of his arms yet he continued to hold her hand firmly.

"Aye. Maybe you will, Swan. Don't look now, but we're being watched. Indulge me, alright?"

"...Alright?"

He stayed close to her side, one arm around her back keeping her secure. His other hand swept a loose wave of hair from her face. She let her head settle into the crook of his neck, put her arm around him and they skated slowly in perfect unrehearsed rhythm. Funny how well she fit into him…

He might need saving alright, but he doubted she could be the one to do it since she was the reason he would need saving in the first place. He felt her balance give way again.

"I think maybe we should be going home," she laughed at her shaky legs.

"Yes, you're right. Let's go home."

God he loved the way that sounded.

Once again, Emma tucked Henry into his bed, pulling the covers up to his chin.

"Today was so much fun, huh Mom? I can't believe we actually got to skate at the plaza."

"It was a lot of fun," she admitted to him. And, despite the aching of her entire body, she really meant that.

"Mom, do you believe in miracles?"

That was an odd question, she thought, but his questioning gaze craved an answer.

"Um… I honestly don't know. Why?"

"Eh, just wondering. G'night."

"Night, Henry."

She caught sight of Belle once again in the study but, across the hall, the doors of her room were open. Killian must already have seen their guest and gone in.

"Can I get anything for you, Belle? Some tea?"

"No thank you, Emma. I must admit, now that I can't really blame my jetlag, I'm a bit of a night owl… Reading helps me relax. I hope it doesn't bother you and Killian me sitting here at night?"

"Of course not. As long as you're comfortable."

She was about to confirm if Belle had seen Killian go into their room or not, when the sound of the shower starting across the hall answered her question.

"Well, goodnight, Belle. Make yourself at home."

"I will, thank you. Goodnight, Emma. Oh, and thank you again for such a wonderful day! It was exactly what I was hoping to get to do while here."

"I'm glad you had a good time. But honestly that was all Henry. He really loves this time of year."

"I can tell… And, if I might be so bold? What about you?" Belle cocked her head inquisitively.

The question made Emma nervous and she shifted her weight. Might as well be honest, she figured.

"Erm… Well I didn't used to. I never liked Christmas as a kid. It was always just a reminder of what I didn't have. But…" she sighed, looking down at her feet.

"But?"

"But now… Well it's better now. And I love that Henry loves it. Seeing him get so swept up in it makes me forget the bad times I went through."

She tried not to think about her personal ghosts of Christmas Past. As a child the season had always been an awful reminder of how truly alone she was in the world... No family or friends to celebrate with… There had been one or two as she got older that weren't so terrible at the time but even those memories hadn't aged well and now just left a bitter familiar ache in the hollow of her heart. But this Christmas, at least so far, really was going much better. Yes, she was nothing more than an actor in what felt like the longest role ever, but even if it was just pretend it was a nice fantasy to be able to act out. A big house, her son having everything she could never give him on her own, a loving husband... what more could she have asked for? It being real would never happen. Might as well enjoy playing the part while it lasted.

Far across town there was an early Christmas party going on in one of the sea of highrises the city had to offer. Office workers cut loose now that the day was done for one night while downing hard liquor and chasing away inhibitions along with sobriety. One particular employee had partaken more than his fair share of the free flowing libations from the open bar. Wobbling back to his desk, he sought quiet now, not wanting much to do with the rest of the festivities or his co-workers. These things weren't really his strong point. He would rather finish drowning his demons in the quiet of his cubicle far away from the bluetooth speakers, "DJ iPod" and the excitement of the festivities. His tired brown eyes stared down at the amber liquid in his red cup, finding a rippled reflection of a man he didn't recognize staring back up at him. He wondered if they were okay. It had been so long. So lost in his own head, he didn't even hear the approaching footsteps.

"Now now, why so down, son? It's a party. Thought you would enjoy this sort of thing. But it seems you're not having a good time."

"I don't wanna talk about it," he replied, his voice scratchy and strained.

"Could it be… you're thinking about them? What if I had some… information that might interest you?"

"Thanks, but no thanks. Everything you do comes at a price. And frankly… I'm tired of paying it. I'm tired of a lot of things."

"Bae -"

"It's Neil, Dad. How many times do I have to remind you," he raised his eyes to meet his father's, warning him.

"Right. Fine. Neil, then… Look I'm just trying to help you, son. I wasn't playing games. I do know where they are right now. Would you like to know, too? I can assume by the way you're acting you're feeling guilty again this year so why not drop by and tell the boy, at least, Merry Christmas. It might do you good." He gave a fragile smile, but Neil wouldn't even look up at him. His father's smile fell and he took a hard swallow. "I'm trying so hard to fix this between us. I know that I made mistakes when you were young but life brought us back together and gave me a chance to make things right. Don't let the same thing happen to you and your boy. What if you don't get the chance later?"

"I'm going home."

Neil put the plastic cup down and had his coat on in a heartbeat. His father grabbed his arm. Now there was force.

"You can't possibly drive yourself. Let me take you home."

"No thanks. Boss," he still could not look the older man in the eye, "It's your party after all. It wouldn't be appropriate for you to leave. I'll call an uber."

He jerked his arm back and made his way to the elevator, fixing his coat as he walked. His father could do nothing but watch him go. Once Neil had gone from sight, he sat staring down at the floor, tuning out the happy music and laughing in the background.

Down on the street corner out in front of the building, Neil stood waiting on the corner for his ride to find him. His old man had a lot of nerve. Always had. He cast a glance back at the mostly darkened tower behind him. He hoped it was worth it. But… he knew it would only be right to see Henry for Christmas. He had been just as selfish as his old man… Finally, his a car pulled up and slowed to a stop.

"Where you heading tonight?" the driver asked, not looking back for an answer to his small talk.

He sighed deeply and looked at the roof of the dirty car feeling defeated.

"Home. I think… I think it's time to go home."

The next few days passed quickly. Belle cooked dinner for them as a treat one night. She read aloud from books to Henry and Emma round the fire before bedtime. And one particular night, while Killian poured over more work he had brought home, the sounds of laughter were particularly distracting. Frustrated over the inability to concentrate, he tossed the papers to the desk and peered over the railing of the loft into the living room down below. Emma was tucked into her thick, cozy black robe and fuzzy socks, her wavy blonde mane spilling over one shoulder and popping popcorn over the flames in the hearth while also spinning a wheel for the game of Twister that Henry and Belle were in the middle of playing. She called out which hand or foot and a color and the two others laughed as they contorted into place. He smiled and shook his head at the sight. He had never seen his living room so cozy before.

"Hey! Come on down and play, dad!" Henry called up to him when he noticed him looking down at them.

"No, thanks though… I'm no good at games I'm afraid," Killian admitted sheepishly, scratching behind his ear. Emma raised a brow in amusement. Finally something he wasn't good at?

"Come on it'll be fun Killian!" Belle waved to him.

"Yeah. We don't bite," Emma remarked. Now it was his turn to raise a brow.

"Alright alright fine. I'll give it a go. Happy?"

He made his way down. Emma pulled the popcorn from the warm flickering flames and Henry snatched it from her to open the pouch.

"You guys play this round, mom. I wanna have some popcorn," he said, filling his mouth with the steaming popped kernels.

"Oh I don't know," Emma stuttered, looking at Killian.

"What? Afraid of losing… dear?" He teased.

"Okay you're on. Henry, spin the wheel."

The game started innocently enough though Killian might have accused Henry of cheating and giving his mom the better spins… But once the two of them had ended up efficiently tangled up and were practically brushing noses, Emma's hand wobbled then faltered and she took them both tumbling down. He sat up and looked at Henry, amazed, "I won?"

"You won! Good game, dad!" Henry cheered.

"I won!"

They all laughed at his amazed expression. Emma couldn't help herself when she congratulated him on his victory and patted his arm, smiling. Belle looked on at all of them with the hint of a smile pulling her lips and a twinkle in her eye.

After a few days of wrestling with himself, Neil had finally decided to get Emma's new address from his father after all. He hated the idea of owing the conniving old man anything even though his father promised there were no strings attached. But Neil had heard that line before, more times than he cared to recall. There was a reason he left home at such an early age after all… The snow was starting to come down faster and harder. It was looking like that blizzard they kept talking about on the news was actually going to hit after all. He looked up at the windows, but all the curtains were closed up tight. It didn't look like any of lights were on, but that was hard to tell for sure. He knocked on the door to the apartment and called her name, but got no answer. He held his hands up to the window and tried to make out any lights behind the drawn curtains.

Surely she should be home by now. It was late in the day now and Henry would be out of school. Maybe he had the wrong address… That's when he saw her come out of the main house with a shotgun in her hands.

"Hey! Hands where I can see them! Step away from the window before I… Neil? What the hell are you doing here?" Mary Margaret spat. She looked at him with a formidable amount of disdain.

"Mary Margaret! I'm… I'm just trying to see Henry. Tell him Merry Christmas. Where are they?"

"How did you even find them? Emma told me she didn't give you the new address." She stopped and shook her head. "It's been two years for God's sake… Why now?"

"Come on, Mary Margaret. I know I've made a lot of mistakes and screwed up more than a lot. Not seeing them last Christmas nearly killed me."

"Nearly killed your son too. But luckily he's okay now."

He avoided the scorn in her eyes and cast his glance to the path under his feet for a minute before trying one last time.

"I just want to see him. I just want to try to make it up to him this year and tell him Merry Christmas."

"She's working a special job assignment right now anyway and won't be back for a few weeks. She can't be bothered with your nonsense," Mary Margaret sighed and turned to go back inside her home.

"Wait she's back to the old bondsman gig? Please! Please... I-I promise I won't screw up her gig. I'll be subtle. I just wanna see Henry once more."

"BondsPERSON and no… No it's different…," She stopped, shook her head and looked down at the ground, thinking. After a minute she rolled her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. She knew in the pit of her stomach that she would regret this and Emma would probably never speak to her again.

"I have an address. It's for emergencies only though… Don't be stupid and try to go out there until after the storm though. If you died, you'd never get to tell Henry Merry Christmas ever again. Not that Emma would have a problem with that, honestly. But for HIS sake, you better not screw this up."

"Promise. I'll wait til the storm blows over before I see them."

AN: Hey everyone! So this is the year we bring this story to a close! It's not a long tale and I need to update the earlier chapters to fix grammar errors and the like, but I hope you are enjoying reading and I hope you are have a wonderful holiday season!