seven
Henry falls asleep on the ride home, so when they get back, Emma puts him to bed for a nap and then goes back downstairs tugging on the sleeves of her favorite sweater and Wilby hurrying behind her.
Charlie and Hannah are sitting on the floor in front of the television, teasing each other while they play an old Mario game, and Nana's watching half-heartedly with her recent crochet blanket project in her lap.
"Hey, guys," Emma smiles slightly. "Where'd Killian go?"
Nana flashes her a grin. "I believe he's in the kitchen with your mother."
She lingers for a second, not wanting to seem like she's interested in being around Killian- for obvious reasons- and then after witnessing Charlie get defeated by his fiancée, she sneaks out of the room to find her mother and Killian standing at the kitchen island.
"Emma!" her mother practically sings. "Dad went out to the barn for a few things. Do you want to help us bake the gingerbread for the First Annual Nolan Household Gingerbread House Contest?"
Emma lifts an eyebrow, glancing at Killian who wears a lighthearted smirk on his lips. "That's a mouthful."
"I know, I know, Killian and I were trying to think of something shorter."
"So it was his idea?" Emma wonders casually. She makes her way toward the island where they're rolling out the dough.
"Yeah, I suppose," he shrugs. "It's just that, back home, we used to build gingerbread houses. I asked Mary Margaret if you did that here too, but I guess of all the traditions you have, that's not one."
Emma nods in understanding. Thoughtfully, she watches them. "Okay, yeah, I'll help."
"Great," her mother says, taking an immediate step back. "Because I need to go out."
Emma's mouth falls open and her mother scuttles around her to the door where her boots are sitting.
"Like, out, out?" Emma asks. "To town?"
Her mother wears the calmest smile and rolls her eyes only a little. "Yes. I'll only be a little while. I have to pick up something I ordered and I also should grab some more sugar if we're going to be baking tomorrow."
"We've got this under control, I think, Mrs. Nolan."
Her mother looks between them and lifts her shoulders giddily. "Alright. I'll be off. Killian has the recipe."
Emma sighs and takes her mother's old spot right beside Killian, who glances down at the cookbook. She hears the door close and then looks up at her newfound baking partner.
He stares back at her and tilts his head back toward the sink. "Wash your hands, Nolan. I know they're a filthy mess after you changed that diaper."
Emma rolls her eyes, but does as he requests. "So you make gingerbread houses at home."
He hums. "Yep."
She dries her hands and joins him again. "What else do you do for Christmas usually?"
Killian takes a deep breath and thinks about it. He looks down at her and shakes his head.
"Decorate the tree. Breakfast for Christmas Eve dinner." He shrugs. "Christmas morning presents and a special dinner. Sometimes we go sailing."
"On Christmas?" Emma asks, surprised.
"Sure. Our father owns a whole fleet of ships. He doesn't care if we take one out so long as we bring it back."
Emma hums. "The more I learn about you, I'm starting to think you're a billionaire disguising himself as the scorned brother of my best friend's fiancé."
Killian laughs. "I'm not even slightly rich, I assure you." He stares at her for a few seconds. "One Christmas, when I was small, when my mother was still with us, she brought us to the movie theater and we sat and watched movies all day long. I thought we owned the place. She loved it there too."
The idea makes her smile a little. "What was her favorite?"
"Movie?" he asks. Emma nods. "I think she really loved anything with Jimmy Stewart. I remember she'd watch his movies a lot."
"And how about you?" she wonders.
"I… don't know. I haven't taken time for myself in a long time." Killian admits. He looks down at the countertop and starts rolling out the dough again.
"Too busy?"
"That. And I guess… I just don't want time for myself. Leaves too much space to think."
It's a weird reason to not want to take time for himself, but she gets it. Weirdly, she does.
Whatever regrets and past mistakes he has for not wanting to think too much makes her curious from that same part of her that wanted to know more about him when she first met him.
It's a tug from her very core, a pull that makes her have to close her lips together before she says too much or asks too much.
"My dad says thinking too much is the best way to get nowhere fast. He says you should just get it all out in the open. Work it out. It's a lot healthier that way."
Killian stares down at her with sorrow-filled eyes. He parts his lips as if about to speak, but instead, the door opens, jarring both of their attentions away from each other and to the arrival of her father.
"Hey," he greets warmly. "Mom left?"
"Yeah," Emma nods. "She went to town really quick."
Furrowing his brow, he looks at the countertop. "What's going on in here?"
"We're making gingerbread houses." Killian speaks up after clearing his throat.
"For the First Annual Gingerbread House Building Competition."
Her father laughs. "That sounds like a lot of fun. When's that going to be?"
Emma shrugs. "Whenever Mom gets back, I guess."
"Huh!" Her father laughs again. He barely peels out of his coat before he walks into the other room and loudly asks, "Did you hear we're having a Gingerbread House Building Competition?"
Emma can't help but giggle. She finds herself looking at Killian again, at the quiet and calm way he smiles to himself while finishing rolling out the dough. He turns to her.
"I guess it's a big deal around here."
"Competition is a big deal around here," Emma amends. "I can't believe we haven't done something like this before."
He directs his attention to the pastry roller on the counter. He grabs it and offers it to her. Their fingers brush ever so slightly, igniting a sudden blossoming sensation in the pit of her belly.
"Well, I'm glad I could add something new to your Christmas."
/
The First Annual Nolan Family Gingerbread Building Competition is held in the dining room. The formal one, not at the kitchen table.
They have bowls and plates filled with potential toppers, and plenty of icing to go around. To top it all off, they're listening to Christmas music from a speaker Charlie brought to the room.
"Okay, so I'm setting the timer for an hour," her father announces from the head of the table, quieting the chatty and excited group. "At the end of the hour, Nana will judge all of the houses without knowing who made them."
Nana smiles from where she stands in the doorway. "I'm very excited to see what you come up with."
Emma stands with Henry on her hip beside Killian. Across from them, Hannah and Charlie have their separate stations, but for now, Charlie has his arms wrapped around Hannah from behind.
Emma casts a glance toward Killian when a flare of jealousy strikes her chest in a desperate and selfish pang.
He seems to always look at her when she looks his direction. It's cause for her to rip her attention promptly away from him, instead at her mother who stands opposite her father on the other side of Emma.
She grins and reaches out to squeeze Henry's toes. "Whatcha think, Henry? Will Grandma win?"
Henry burrows close to Emma. She laughs. "He thinks we'll win."
"Everyone ready?" her father asks. Emma looks to him and nods in confirmation. Everyone else cheers. "In three. Two. One… go!"
Even though they have a full hour to assemble their houses, everyone scrambles to grab what they want. Laughter bounces around the room and teasing taunts are called out from almost the get-go.
Emma decides to take her time. She sets Henry down on a chair and after building the structure, she grabs some gumdrops.
"Here, show Mommy where we should put this." Emma says with a kiss to the top of Henry's head.
He grins up at her, then holds the candy out in his palm.
"What about... here?" Emma moves his hand to the house and she applies a dab of icing so it'll stick. "Ooh, nice job, Henry!"
"Let me see!" her mother gasps, taking a moment to step away from her own creation to fawn over her grandson.
The moment makes Emma's chest nearly burst, seeing how happy Henry gets with his grandmother kissing him and hugging him over something so simple. It's everything she'd hoped this might be for him.
She's decided their gingerbread house will just be a mess of candy, because it's more fun that way- to keep sticking things on- so she goes to reach for a candy cane but ends up bumping into Killian instead.
"Oops," Killian glances up at her apologetically. "After you, milady."
Emma can't help but smile. She plucks up a few and sneaks a glance at him after putting it at her station only to find him doing the same.
She shakes off the feeling she gets and returns to Henry and the candy canes. Her son would like to suck on them, to no surprise, so she has to pull them out of his grasp before he ruins them for their display.
After only about twenty minutes, she finishes her candy-covered design and Henry gets bored of the whole thing, so after cleaning him up in the kitchen, she carries him into the living room where Nana's waiting, watching a movie on low volume.
"Is he all done?" she asks, laughing a little.
Emma nods. "Yeah. He'd rather get his hands all sticky than decorate anything."
A little tired herself, Emma joins her grandmother on the couch while Henry gets into his toy bin. She leans her head against Nana Ruth's shoulder and the woman hums as her arm goes around her to hold her tight.
"Have I ever told you about how I met your grandfather?"
Emma pulls back slightly and shakes her head. "No. I don't think so."
Her grandmother wears the calmest expression on her face. She looks away, at Henry, thoughtfully.
"Things were a lot simpler. Soulmates, we heard rumors of the mark, but we didn't know for sure." She pauses. "So it was a matter of waiting until you found someone you liked. Well, I waited a long time. I wasn't going to settle."
Nana chuckles, prompting Emma to do the same. Her grandmother stares at her affectionately.
"I had a friend who had recently moved into town. Her brother was off in the war, and on the day the men came home, I was in the old diner by the window cleaning tables and talking with my friend. And the door opened, and there he was. Broody as can be, tall, handsome, and dead hungry."
Emma laughs. "He always was, wasn't he?"
Nana chuckles. "He certainly was." Her grandmother rubs Emma's arm. "Now here's the important part, Emma. I can't say I had a thought, but I certainly had a feeling. Right here." Her grandmother shows her where, pressing her fingers against her middle. "Deep inside. A tug, a pull, a knowing."
The words resonate more than they should. Her heart jumps against her ribcage and she feels her face fall.
"I could tell he felt it too," she adds in a low voice, "because he had a look in his eyes. He just knew."
Her mouth feels dry, so she licks her lips and clears her throat. "Were you soulmates? Did your marks match?"
Nana Ruth smiles softly to herself for a moment before she nods. "But we didn't need proof. And neither did your parents. And neither do you."
With racing thoughts, Emma's heart beats faster than it should. She leans her head against her grandmother's shoulder and stares at her son.
"There's something about this time of year that has me thinking about him," Nana says. "Thank you for listening to me ramble."
Emma holds her closer. "I'd listen to you ramble any day, Nana."
/
With only five minutes on the clock remaining, Emma makes her way back into the formal dining room to find her mother sitting over by her father, who has long since finished his design. They're chatting in low tones.
Meanwhile, Charlie and Hannah have left the room entirely, leaving Killian all by himself while he pipes out icing for what's left of his house.
"Show off." Emma teases. She comes to stand beside him. He's kneeling now, focused on crafting the perfect design.
He presses his tongue between his lips. "You'll never win if you don't take your time. Haven't you heard of the tortoise and the hare?"
Emma hums. She admires what he's done so far. It's practically a professional's job, with even lines and pretty twirls all done in icing.
"Do you recognize it?" he asks. He rises to his feet, having apparently finished, and sets his piping bag to the side.
She analyzes the house while he wipes his hands on his legs. Suddenly, she does. There's a little wrap-around porch and black shutters on the windows. He's even managed to make the Christmas tree in the window where the living room is.
To top it all off, he made little people out of candies. They're half as good as the work he did on the house, but she thinks she recognizes herself and Henry, with Wilby at her side.
Looking up at him again, he has an eyebrow lifted as if anticipating her praise. She hums.
"Yeah. It's nice."
"Nice?" he asks dramatically. "It's a bloody masterpiece."
Emma shrugs. "I don't know. I've seen much better."
There's a playful glint in his eyes, one she's sure matches the one in hers. She smirks a little when he shakes his head and sticks his tongue into his cheek.
"Have you now?"
Emma hums. "In my free time I'm into gingerbread house culture."
It almost breaks him, but he keeps a straight face. He reaches for something on the table, but pulls it back to himself before she can see what it is.
"Well, I suppose you'll win and I'll have to take a lesson or two from you."
"That's the only solution." Emma nods in agreement.
They stand there quietly, staring at each other, until Killian suddenly tosses a marshmallow at her. She gasps in surprise and grabs a candy cane from the table.
"Watch out. I'm armed."
Killian breaks, finally, a smile spreading easily toward his ears. He laughs and puts his hands up in the air. "Fine, fine. You win."
Emma laughs in victory, a facade that is only broken by the fact that her parents are sitting in the room, now dead silent. When the alarm her father had set goes off, Emma looks away from Killian, instead at the wall, and then the floor.
She decides to go get Henry, because she really shouldn't look at her parents and see their expectant grins, or back at Killian to see that stupid way his eyebrows dance.
Her son crashes into her legs the second she enters the room, something that causes she and Nana Ruth to both laugh.
"Woah, kid. Slow down!" Emma says. She squats down to take him into her arms and as soon as he's holding on, she stands. "Nana, we're ready for you in the other room."
After Emma makes her way back into the dining room with her grandmother in tow, she goes to her spot. All of the houses have been moved, now all displayed at the end of the table for Nana's close inspection.
Charlie and Hannah have returned from wherever they went, both of them with mugs of something warm to drink in hand.
"Well, let's see what we have here."
All of the entries are impressive, but none more than Killian's. It's very clear to probably everyone in the room that he should win.
After a short while, the oldest member of the Nolan family looks up with a wise smile. "I have decided upon a winner." She points at Killian's model version of the house and says, "I think we'd all be in agreement that this is the best."
Groans come from her dad and Charlie.
"C'mon, Nana, mine's right next to it!"
Grandma Ruth holds up her hands. "Hold on, I didn't say it wins. I really love the spirit of this one." She points to Emma's and Henry's candy mess. "So this is my winner."
Emma's eyes widen and she gasps. She puts her fingers on Henry's belly and he looks up at her. "Henry, we won!"
"Well, I can't argue with that." Charlie concedes.
Her father makes his way around the table just so he can ruffle Henry's hair and kiss his head. "That's my little guy. Winning on his first try."
"Good job, Henry!" her mom sings in her ear. Emma turns so her mother can see the baby. "I can't believe we have another artist in the family."
They all laugh and Emma finds herself looking at Killian, again.
He winks at her. "Nicely done, Emma. You and Henry did excellent work."
"Thanks. Yours wasn't too bad, either."
/
After Henry gets a bath and finishes his bedtime routine, Emma sits cross legged on her bed and strokes Wilby's ears. She looks lovely, hair hanging over her shoulder and posture relaxed.
He's supposed to be checking work important emails, sending off replies, and making sure his father knows all the details of the wedding that he'd been given, but all he can do is look at her.
It's silly that he's so distracted, but she is a beautiful woman and he a warm-blooded male. On a heavy sigh, he shuts the lid of his computer.
"I had fun tonight," he says quietly enough that it won't wake Henry. "Building gingerbread houses. Your family is… a lot of fun."
Emma doesn't look up when she speaks. "Yeah."
"Congratulations again on your victory, by the way. Well deserved."
She looks up at that and smirks. "Hell yeah it was." Emma seems to analyze him before she speaks again. "So I heard you're not going to the wedding."
Killian releases a hard breath. "Well, I don't know yet."
"He's your brother."
"I know."
Silence sits heavy between them. Emma shifts so she rests her head against the wall. She presses her hands between her legs and looks upward.
"It's… not…" Killian hesitates. He picks at a loose string on the quilt upon his bed as if it's the most interesting thing in the world. "I love him, but marrying someone he doesn't know just because they're soulmates is the epitome of why I hate the idea of them. People act too quickly. What's the use?"
Emma laughs dryly. "I know. Charlie almost married Hannah a month after they found out, but Dad got them to wait by saying he'd pay for it if they waited until they were finished with school."
"The more I learn about your father, the more I love the man."
She laughs more honestly this time and sits upright again. Her expression softens. "I haven't heard you talk about anyone in your life other than your dad and your brother. And your mom, once. Is there anyone waiting for you back home? Someone you should be spending your Christmas with?"
Killian shakes his head. "My father recently remarried. She has a son. I guess I should be spending it with them." He clears his throat. "But, no, no girlfriend or… anyone who misses me. Even my father probably doesn't care that we've left."
Emma frowns. "Why not?"
"Because that's the way it's been our whole lives," Killian shrugs slightly. He scrubs his hand over his head. "He decided to leave when I was small and left us with our mum, who left us with an aunt. Then he came back and made nice, but… an apology is really only good the first time." He pulls on a smile that falls instantly. "You've got it great here, Emma. Don't take it for granted."
Emma looks down at her lap. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," he scoffs.
"Hey, if you go home and feel like nobody cares about you, know that at the very least, we do. I know it was kind of weird at first, but you're growing on us. On me too."
He can't help but smile. Warmth blossoms in his chest. "Well, you're growing on me too, Nolan. I appreciate it."
Emma fights a blush and a smile as she turns and pulls back the covers of her bed. "Go to bed. We have Christmas Eve traditions all day long tomorrow."
"I'm curious to see what you mean."
She slips beneath the covers and her head hits the pillow. She turns to face him. "Have you ever just wondered if you should find out who it is? Get it out of the way?"
His heart skips a beat before it sinks to his gut. "I…" He struggles to breathe for a second and swallows thickly. "Truthfully, I found out when I was seventeen."
Emma's brow furrows. "How?"
"She found me, I guess I should say." Killian murmurs. He pulls back his covers and slips into his makeshift bed. "She was older than me. She didn't care for soulmates, though, and her interest in me was real, so I guess I thought it would last. Long story short, our marks matched, and six months into it, she passed away."
He can hear Emma's breath catch in her throat. "Oh."
"Aye," he sighs. He closes his eyes briefly. "Like I said, I try not to give myself space to think too much."
She stares at him quietly for a what feels like an hour, but he doesn't break the contact. He stares back, a desperate tug from deep within prodding at him again and again to say something.
He doesn't and neither does she. Instead, she turns away from him and they both dwell in silence over the things that make them think too much.
