Disclaimer: Same as always.
A/N: Today's prompt was Christmas throughout the years (any time period). This one takes place over the course of ten years, starting with Emma and Killian's first Christmas as a married couple. It's part of my All We Ever Wanted universe (if you want to call it that). In other words, I decided to use Clara and Catalina from All We Ever Wanted. You do not need to have read that to read this. There is some sexual content at the very beginning. I wouldn't call it explicit, but it's enough that I felt like I needed to give a warning. The Newlyweds Christmas is what gave this series its overall rating. Mild language as well. It's really only the first Christmas. This one shot is mostly fluff. And it's long, so know that going in. Hope you enjoy it.
Rating: T
1st Christmas.
Newlyweds.
Emma shoved Killian against their front door after waiting impatiently for him to open it to let them inside. He'd let her go in first, only to have her grab him by the lapels of his coat and yank him in after her. He'd had just enough time to close the door with his foot before being getting pushed back up against it. Emma then proceeded to kiss the holy hell out of him.
They'd just enjoyed a wonderful Christmas party and Emma had had the time of her life. She had a nice buzz going from the alcohol and, with Henry staying over at Regina's, had felt the need to drag her husband home and take advantage of him.
It was officially Christmas Eve; their first as a married couple. And Emma intended to make the best of it. She'd thrown herself into getting ready for Christmas. This naturally included educating Killian about the holiday as they didn't have Christmas in the Enchanted Forest. He found the whole thing fascinating, though nothing piqued his interest more than mistletoe.
Emma had been amused to wake up to find a sprig of mistletoe over the doorway to their bedroom one morning. And their bathroom. And their closet. And stuck to the roof of her Bug. She'd laughingly informed him that people generally didn't put mistletoe in their cars and he'd argued that more people should. After the kiss he'd promptly given her in said car to prove his point, she hadn't been able to disagree.
Suffice it to say, Emma and Killian had been happily putting the mistletoe to good use. Especially once Killian had insisted that the newlywed phase should last for the entirety of the first year of marriage and Emma was completely on board with that idea. Much to Henry's chagrin and general disgust. Well, poor Henry would just have to deal with it.
Besides, Henry wasn't home at the moment. As much as she loved her son, Emma couldn't help being thrilled about that as she continued to kiss Killian senseless under the mistletoe that hung over their front door. She shoved his coat off his shoulders before sliding her hands down to unfasten his belt.
"Emma." Her name came out on a partial whimper as she practically slithered her way down his body. "Love, you don't have to..."
"Ssh," she ordered, shooting him a wicked smile while she freed him from his jeans. "Consider this an early Christmas present."
"Emma...fuck." Killian's eyes closed and his head fell back against the door while she proceeded to thoroughly and enthusiastically pleasure him with her mouth. She'd had him reduced to unintelligible grunts and groans in no time, his hand sliding into her hair at one point. Not to try to control or force her movements, but because he simply needed to touch her.
His thoughts generally consisted of a string of curses mixed in with her name while she drove him to the point of pure madness. If he hadn't already been married to her, he would've wanted to marry her on the spot on the merit of what she was now doing to him alone. Bloody hell. Emma had learned how to wreck him in the best possible ways. And she enjoyed doing it. May the gods help him, getting him off turned her on.
By the time she was done, Killian was pretty certain that she could ask him to do absolutely anything for her and he'd do it. If she'd asked for the moon, he would've found a way to bring her the bloody moon. Which, if he was being honest, had been the case ever since he'd fallen for her. He would do anything for this amazing woman. This just intensified that desire.
He was still trying to figure out how to come back to earth when she slithered her way back up his body. "You're welcome, baby," she murmured against his lips.
The response he gave to this was something along the lines of "mmmfngph". It was a sound that he was quite certain he'd never made before, ever, but that was what she'd reduced him too. Nonsensical mumbles. The bloody minx that was his wife merely giggled in response to this.
A goofy smile spread across Killian's face as his eyes closed once again. He didn't think he could ever tire of hearing his wife giggle. It was quite possibly the most adorable sound he'd ever heard. And heaven knew that she hadn't done nearly enough of that in her life. He made an effort to make her giggle as much as possible.
He opened his eyes, expecting to find her still standing in front of them, but she wasn't. A quick glance around and he found her in the kitchen, reaching up to pull down a glass from a cabinet. He peeled himself away from their front down and made his way to her.
Emma had gone to get herself a glass of water and was just about to ask if he wanted one too when he came up behind her. Sliding his arms around her, he tugged her to him. "Hey," she said in greeting.
"Hey," he replied. "I think we need to have a talk."
"About what?" she asked.
"About what you just did to me," he answered, bringing his lips right to her ear. "I'm afraid that you may have just landed yourself on the naughty list, my love."
"Oh, what Santa doesn't know won't hurt him," Emma answered, a smile tugging on her lips.
"But you forget. Santa sees everything," Killian reminded her. "What's that line from the song? About him knowing if you've been bad or good?" Killian's Christmas education had naturally included listening to Christmas music. "And you, my dear, have been very bad." His lips brushed against the sensitive spot just underneath her ear, making her shiver.
"Yeah?" Her voice was husky as she continued. "And what are you going to do about it?"
"Isn't it obvious, Swan?" Emma's eyes fluttered closed as he kissed her neck, his lips soft against her skin. The stubble on his face always providing such a nice contrast in sensations. "I'm going to have to punish you. The kind of behavior you just displayed, well. You simply cannot do something like that and not expect...consequences."
"You don't scare me." The breathiness in her voice belied her words, but she found it hard to care.
"You are a brave lass," he purred. "But that's not going to save you." Emma gasped as he suddenly spun her around to face him. "I've got you in my clutches now."
"Do your worst," she challenged. "I dare you."
"Don't worry, love," he assured her. "I will." With that, he crushed his lips against hers. Emma soon found herself being lifted onto their kitchen table.
It really was a good thing that Henry wasn't home.
It was some time later, after Killian had proceeded to thoroughly ravage his wife and while she was still trying to catch her breath. "Merry Christmas Eve, love," he murmured against her lips.
"Merry Christmas Eve," she managed.
2nd Christmas.
Playtime.
It was Christmas and Emma was feeling especially playful as she lured Killian outside. She'd woken up before him for a change and the two of them had enjoyed a nice breakfast as they exchanged gifts, just the two of them. Henry had spent the morning at Regina's and would be coming over to their house so the three of them could head out to Snow and Charming's house together.
And now she had the overwhelming urge to do something fun. "A snowball fight?" he asked, skeptically. Christmas had evidently turned his wife into a five-year-old with the body of an adult.
"Oh come on!" she insisted. "It'll be fun."
"Henry is due to arrive at any moment," Killian reminded her. "And then we're going to have to go."
"You know what I think?" she asked and he detected a note of challenge in her voice.
"What's that?"
"I think you're too chicken to fight me," she informed him, earning herself one of his classic eyebrow raises.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I said that I think that you, sir, are a chicken," she repeated.
"Oh, I see what you're doing here," he nodded. "You're trying to goad me into a fight. Well, I hate to break it to you, love, but it's not going to work."
"We'll see about that," she muttered.
"I'm going to start loading the car, alright?" He asked, turning to go back inside. "Maybe we can have a fight la-" He stopped when he felt a snowball hit him in the back. "Hitting a man when his back is turned? Bad form, love."
"So, why don't you do something about it?" Emma asked, defiantly. "Oh that's right, I remember. You're a chicken, that's why."
"Swan..." he said, slowly turning around to face her.
"Yes, chicken?" she answered, innocently.
"This will not work," Killian said, calmly. "Now come on, we'll have a nice snowball fight later on with the rest of our fa-" This time it wasn't a snowball that cut him off. No. It was the sound of Emma clucking. "Oh, now that's real mature, Swan," he shook his head at her, even as his lips quivered. "I'll give you points for effort. But calling me a chicken and making chicken noises is not going to get you want you want."
"You know what?" she asked, an impish smile appearing on her face.
"What?" he asked, warily.
"I was wrong," she said, surprising him. "You're not a chicken." She waited a beat. "You're a codfish."
There was a long pause.
"What did you just call me?" he asked, slowly.
"You heard me." Emma began sauntering over to him. "I called you a codfish." She watched a muscle in his jaw twitch. "You know what's interesting? You always go on and on about how horribly inaccurate the Peter Pan movie is. 'That's not how it bloody happened, Swan,'" she said, in a terrible imitation of his accent. "They got a couple of things right though, didn't they?"
"Swan..." This time there was a hint of warning in his voice.
"You really don't like being called a codfish, do you?" She sounded positively gleeful. "Then I bet you'll really hate this." She took a step closer. "Captain Hook is a codfish," she taunted in a singsong voice.
"Swan?"
"Codfish?" She had the audacity to flutter her eyelashes at him when she said this and he couldn't help being completely charmed. He struggled to keep it from showing, however.
"I'm going to let you in on a little secret," he said, moving closer to her. "Me trying to avoid a snowball fight was actually just me being a gentleman."
"Nah, that's not it," she argued, waving her hand in dismissal. "You just know that you're going to lose. Because you're a codfish." She watched him work his jaw for a moment.
"Swan?"
"What?"
"Run," he advised, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Emma let out a shriek as he charged. It was on. All out war as they began pelting each other with snowballs. The battle went on for quite some time until she managed to hit him right in the face with a snowball.
"Ha!" Emma whooped. "You are a codfish." She cupped her hands around her mouth. "Captain Hook is a bloody codfish!" she crowed, yelping a second later when he caught her around the waist.
"Take that back," he growled. Or rather, he attempted to growl. It was hard to sound threatening while he was laughing.
"Never!" she cried.
"Take it back." Now she squirmed as he held her against him with his left arm and began tickling her. Emma made a wild twist in an effort to escape, managing to throw them completely off balance. They fell to the snow covered ground in a tangled heap of limbs, laughing. After a brief wrestling match, Emma emerged victorious as she straddled him, pinning his arms above his head.
"I win," she declared, her eyes twinkling. "Admit it."
"Alright, fine. You win," he acknowledged, trying to regain his breath. "This round. This isn't over, Swan."
"Oh, I know," she assured him. "I can't wait until I can beat you again."
"Please, you got lucky this time," he teased.
"Keep believing that, buddy," she countered. She watched him for a few moments, smirking. "You know, I'm enjoying this. Having you at my mercy."
"At your mercy, am I?" he asked, his eyebrow lifting again. "Tell me, love, what exactly do you plan on doing with me, then?"
"Well, for starters..." Her gaze lowered to his lips. "How about this?" She leaned in to kiss him. "Yeah, I think I like this," she murmured, kissing him again. The kiss slowly grew more heated as she released his arms to touch his face. She let out a muffled squeal against his lips as he suddenly rolled them over. Emma had never made out in the snow before, but it made for an interesting contrast. The cold of the air and the snow against her back versus the heat from his body. From his lips.
Emma let him think that he'd taken control for a few moments before flipping them over again. She rolled her hips against his, making him growl into her mouth.
Unfortunately for everyone involved, neither of them heard Henry approach. "Guys? Are you ba-...oh gross!" Henry exclaimed. Emma instantly wrenched her lips away from Killian's.
"Henry!" Her voice seemed abnormally high as she quickly sat up and back on her heels. "Um, Merry Christmas!" She smiled at her son, who looked absolutely horrified. Not to mention completely grossed out.
"You...I...what the hell?!" Henry sputtered, as Killian sat up.
"We were just playing," Emma offered weakly, swatting Killian's shoulder when he let out a snort of amusement in response.
Before immediately throwing her under the bus.
"Your mother started it," Killian said quickly.
"Seriously?!" Emma asked, gaping at him. "You're just going to rat me out like that?
"You did!" Killian answered, shooting her a look before looking at Henry. "She did!" At Henry's incredulous look, Killian went on to add, "She called me a bloody codfish! Was I just supposed to let that go? I think not!"
Henry merely made a strangled kind of noise as his eyes darted wildly between his mom and stepdad.
Now as Emma looked back and forth between her husband and her son, the entire situation suddenly struck her as incredibly funny. There she was, straddling Killian's legs in the snow. Her husband's hair was full of snow and sticking out in every direction, making him look completely ridiculous. Emma imagined that she must look equally ridiculous. That, combined with the way they'd been making out in the snow like a pair of hormonal teenagers.
And poor Henry's mouth just kept opening and closing as if he couldn't find the proper words to express his horror at witnessing this. He reminded her of a fish. A codfish, perhaps.
The giggle escaped before Emma could stop it.
"Mom!" Henry sounded absolutely mortified now that he'd gotten a word out.
"I'm sorry," Emma managed, before making the mistake of looking at Killian. Who by this time had schooled his face into an expression of total innocence. Save for the way his eyes were sparkling. The giggles came in full force then and she buried her face against Killian's shoulder in an effort to muffle them.
"Was there something you needed, lad?" Killian asked, formally. That only served to make Emma laugh even harder.
"We...we should...should probably get ready to go to Grandma and Grandpa's house," Henry managed after a moment. "If you two think you can control yourselves!" It was Emma's turn to snort as a fresh wave of giggles overtook her.
"An excellent suggestion, my boy," Killian nodded, his own lips quivering in response to his wife's merriment. "How about you start loading up the car and we'll join you shortly, aye?"
Now Henry nodded, instantly turning on his heel to leave. He glanced back, shaking his head at them in disgust and then went into the house without further comment. Emma, meanwhile, was desperately trying to get a hold of herself. There were tears in her eyes as she pulled back.
"Alright there, Swan?" Killian asked, grinning at her.
3rd Christmas.
Baby on the way.
Killian rolled over, intending to snuggle up against Emma. Only to find her side of the bed empty. He frowned as he proceeded to sit up and scrubbed his hand over his face before glancing at the clock on his bedside table. It was just after midnight, which meant that it was now officially Christmas.
He got out of bed and padded out of their bedroom to go looking for her and found her curled up on their living room couch, looking peaceful as she admired their tree. She'd turned the tree lights back on when she'd come downstairs. Her hands rested against her still flat abdomen. He'd just opened his mouth to say something to her, closing it when she began to speak. But not to him.
"Merry Christmas, little one." Emma's voice was soft as she smiled down at her stomach. "You know, me and Daddy only found out about you a couple of weeks ago, but we already love you." She laughed a little. "I know I've told you that before, but you're just going to have to get used to hearing it. Mommy and Daddy love you so much and we're probably going to be saying it to you all the time. Yes, we will. Because we do and I know that I never want you to think otherwise. Daddy won't want that either."
"No, we want you to know that you're loved. That you're the product of true love. And you know what else? We've been waiting for you for a long time. Knowing that you're here now is the best Christmas present I could ever have. Yeah. I can't wait until we get to meet you! Until I get to hold you." A pause. "What? Oh I know I've told you that before. Get used to hearing that, kid."
Another pause. "Can I tell you a secret? As much as I want to meet you, I'm a little nervous too. I just want to be the best Mommy I can be for you. But I'll make mistakes. I'm not perfect. But I can promise you that I will always do my very best. That I will love you and protect you and do whatever I can to make you happy." Emma gently rubbed her stomach. "We'll figure it out together, okay? And we're both really lucky, do you know why?"
"We're lucky because we have your Daddy and he is going to be an amazing father. What's that?" Another paused. "Yes, I know I've told you that before too. We're going to talk about Daddy a lot. I don't want you to ever forget how lucky we are. And you wanna hear something really silly? Daddy's worried that he won't be an amazing which is silly because I know that he will. Your Daddy is amazing," Emma breathed. "He's such a good man with such a good heart and he'll make you feel like the most important person in the whole world. He'll love you, no matter what. And he'll stay by your side. He will always, always be there when you need him."
"And he will always come up with new ways to make you laugh. And he'll teach you about life and how to stay strong when things are difficult. Your Daddy's been through a lot and he always bounces back. He'll teach you how to do the same." Emma's eyes lit up as she thought of something else. "And you know what else? Daddy gives the best hugs. You're going to feel so safe in his arms, yes you will. Safe and treasured. And that's exactly what you will be in your daddy's arms. And mine. Oh, I can't wait to meet you, little one." Emma looked up when she detected movement, a smile appearing on her face when she spotted Killian. She glanced back down at her stomach. "And guess who's here, baby? Daddy!" Looking back at Killian she asked, "How long have you been there?"
"A little while," he said, his voice thick. "That was..." He shook his head. "You humble me, Swan."
"I'm just telling our baby the truth," she said, lovingly. She patted the spot next to her on the couch. "Come join us."
"I think you give me far too much credit," he said, still fighting to speak over the lump in his throat created from her sweet praise as he sat beside her. "And yourself far too little. You're going to be an amazing mother." He brought his hand to her stomach. "You have an amazing mother, little one," he said to it.
"Oh Killian," Emma said, letting out a sigh of contentment. "Can you believe that we'll have our baby to hold next Christmas?"
"I can't wait," he said, smiling at her. "Just knowing that our little one is growing inside you right now is more than I ever thought I could have. I love you so much, Swan."
"I love you more," she said. "Merry Christmas, Captain."
"Merry Christmas, my love," he said, gently brushing his lips against hers. "And Merry Christmas to you as well, our little one."
4th Christmas.
Catalina's first Christmas.
Emma didn't think she had ever been more excited for a Christmas than she was this year. Because this year, she got to share it with her precious baby girl. Catalina had been born in August and so this was her first Christmas.
A bright smile was on Emma's face as she went into her daughter's nursery and set about getting her ready for the day. A fresh diaper was the first order of business. The next step was dressing her in a Christmas onesie with the words My First Christmas in script on it with an adorable cartoon of a snowman beside it. Emma hummed "Santa Baby" the entire time she was getting Catalina ready in what would likely be her first outfit of the day.
"There you go, my special little Christmas miss," Emma grinned at her baby who smiled back. "Why don't we go wake up Daddy. What do you think? Do you wanna wake up Daddy? Let's go."
Emma headed back to her and Killian's bedroom, finding him still sleeping in their bed. Unperturbed, Emma carried Catalina over to the bed and sat down. "Say wake up, Daddy!" Emma prodded Killian's leg with her foot, grinning when Catalina started babbling along with her. "You tell him. Say wake up Daddy, you're missing my first Christmas!"
"Daddy's up," Killian mumbled after another moment. A sleepy smile was on his face when he opened his eyes. "Good morning, girls." He yawned, moving into a sitting position before reaching for Catalina. "A very Merry first Christmas to you, my little love," he cooed to his daughter, cuddling her close and kissing the top of her head. "And a very Merry Christmas to you, as well, my wife."
"Say Merry Christmas, Daddy," Emma said. "Merry Christmas!"
Catalina responded with another round of babbles.
"Close enough," Emma laughed.
Emma's cheeks hurt from smiling. Both her house and her heart were full. Her parents had showed up later that morning with a very excited Neal. Her little brother was three years old and seemed to enjoy trying to make his little niece laugh. Something that all everyone in the family enjoyed doing ever since she'd first laughed earlier that month.
A competition of sorts had broken out, initially between Neal and Henry. They had taken turns making funny faces at Catalina, trying to see who could make her laugh the most. Henry had made a solid effort, but Neal had ultimately won that round. Then there'd been a recess when Catalina had started crying. That was when Emma had been forced to intervene. Her baby girl had been hungry and in need of a nap, so it'd been Mommy to the rescue.
After a while, Snow had gone up to get her and bring her back downstairs. Catalina's good spirits had returned now that she'd been fed and had a nap and so the next round of competition began. This one between Killian and David. At the moment, David was holding her. Emma couldn't help snickering as David's most recent funny face went over like a lead balloon. Catalina was completely unimpressed with it.
"Ha!" Killian laughed. "Sorry mate, but I have the home advantage with this one. Behold." With that, he broke out his secret weapon: the eyebrow wiggle. It was a pretty consistent giggle maker, proven by the way Catalina started laughing. The eyebrow wiggle got the big laughs. Unfortunately for the rest of the family, no one else could move their eyebrows the way Killian could.
Come to find out, whereas Catalina was amused by Killian's eyebrows? Neal found them absolutely mesmerizing. "How do you do that?" Neal asked, his voice full of awe.
Now the entertainment shifted from the men trying to make Catalina laugh to Neal trying to imitate Killian's eyebrow movements with absolutely no success whatsoever. Emma couldn't help giggling as David walked over to her, with Catalina still in his arms. "I can't believe it," he said. "Outdone by a pair of eyebrows."
"Aw, you still make me laugh, Dad," Emma assured him.
"Well, thank you," David grinned at her.
"And you know, she might not be laughing, but Catalina seems pretty happy to be hanging out with her grandpa," Emma added, smiling at the way Catalina was watching David's face.
"Can't blame her for that, now can we?" David's smile softened as he looked at his granddaughter. "You love your grandpa, don't you, princess?" He asked and was rewarded with a beaming smile. "Yeah, you do. And Grandpa loves you too. Yes, I do."
There was a pause while both David and Emma watched Catalina. "Gosh, she looks just like you," David said, finally. "She's so beautiful." He looked at Emma. "You're both so beautiful. And you're doing a great job with her."
"Aw, Dad," Emma said, embarrassed now.
"I mean it. You're a wonderful mother, Emma," David told her, sincerely. "You make me so proud, you know that? You do."
"Thanks Dad," Emma said quietly. "I love you, you know that?"
"Yeah, I do," he smiled. "But I love hearing it." He leaned over to kiss the top of her head. "I love you too."
"Merry Christmas, Dad."
"Merry Christmas, Emma."
5th Christmas.
Another baby on the way.
Pregnant. Emma was pregnant with her and Killian's second child. She'd found out a couple of weeks before Thanksgiving and then proceeded to spend the next couple of weeks trying to figure out how to tell Killian.
It wasn't that she'd been worried about his reaction. They'd talked about having another kid and she knew that he was completely on board with the idea. She'd known that he'd be happy to learn that they had another little one on the way. But she'd wanted to find the perfect way to tell him.
And then Thanksgiving had been coming up and it'd be their year to host dinner. Emma had been caught up in making sure that they had everything they needed. It'd been the day before Thanksgiving and Emma had decided that they should make all the desserts on Snow's advice. They'd waited until they'd put Catalina to bed for the night and then had gotten to work.
Mostly work. A flour fight had broken out at one point. A fight that had left both Emma and Killian practically covered in flour. They'd eventually called a truce, knowing that they still had work to do. Once they were done, Emma had announced that she was going to take a shower and get all the flour out of her hair and that we was welcome to join her. If he wanted.
He did. Getting clean had never been more fun. Later, when they had settled into bed, Killian had made an offhand comment that maybe they'd just created a new life. Emma knew an opening when she heard one. She'd simply smiled at him, telling him that they'd already done that. Killian had been thrilled at the news, thrilled to know they had another baby on the way. Set to arrive sometime around June 20th the following year.
It was Christmas. This year they'd spent the day at Snow and David's farmhouse and had opted to stay the night. Emma, Killian and Catalina had been put in the guest bedroom while Henry was bunking with Neal.
Catalina was nestled in between her parents, sleeping peacefully while Emma and Killian watched over her. "You know, sometimes I look at her and can't believe that we made her," Emma said, quietly. "Our sweet little angel." With the way the light from the bedside lamp was shining on Catalina's soft blonde curls, she really did look like an angel.
"Aye," Killian agreed, smiling as he lovingly ran his finger down Catalina's cheek. "And now we have another one on the way."
"Catalina's going to be a great big sister," Emma decided. "Don't you think?"
"Absolutely," Killian nodded. "Our baby is going to have the best big sister in the land. Along with the best big brother, in Henry."
"I hope this one has your eyes." Emma brought a hand to her stomach. "Seems only fair. I mean, Catalina got mine."
"Yes, and they're absolutely beautiful. Just like yours," he said. "But I must admit that I wouldn't mind my second born having my eyes." There was a pause. "They're like my mother's, you know."
This piqued Emma's interest. Killian rarely ever talked about his mother. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," he confirmed. "I wish I remembered her better. I just remember her in bits and pieces. I remember her voice. She used to sing to me and Liam and she had such a beautiful voice. But when I try to picture her, I can't do it. The picture I have of her is very, oh, what's the word? Fuzzy, I suppose. It's not clear. I know she was raven haired and sometime after she died, Liam told me that I had her eyes. It comforts me sometimes." He laughed a little at himself, feeling self-conscious.
"I bet your mother was beautiful," Emma said, quietly. "And now I really hope that this one has your eyes. Maybe it'll help him or her feel closer to their Grandma Jones." At this, Killian smiled, but it was a sad kind of smile. "You miss her, don't you?" Emma asked after a moment.
"I'm not so certain that you can miss one you barely remember. I suppose I miss the idea of her more than anything else," Killian replied, thoughtfully. "But it's alright. I have you, after all."
"Yeah. You do have me. And Henry and Catalina." Emma reached over to take his hand and guide it to her stomach. "And this little one."
"Aye." He smiled at her. "Lucky me."
"Lucky us," Emma corrected.
6th Christmas.
Clara's first Christmas.
Killian woke up on Christmas morning to find Emma still fast asleep beside him. She was hugging her pillow and her knees were curled up almost to her chest. She looked, frankly, adorable. So much so that he'd resisted the urge to wake her from her peaceful slumber. He'd just gently tucked a lock of hair behind her ear before getting up and out of bed.
There was a part of him that wished he could go back to sleep, but he was awake now. He decided, instead, to check on his other two girls. Starting with his Catalina. She was over two years old and had what often seemed like an inhuman supply of energy. Killian felt like he spent a fair amount of his life chasing after her. It helped keep him in shape, that was for sure. Plus there was the infectious way she would laugh whenever he caught her and he always enjoyed making his girls laugh.
Though upon checking on her, his energetic little toddler was surprisingly still asleep. Her arms and legs were spread out in all different directions, making her look like a human starfish. He knew that she would likely wake soon, slipping back out of her room to check on his Clara. Nearly six months old now. He couldn't believe it had almost been six months already.
He was careful to keep quiet as he approached her crib, fully expecting her to also still be asleep. And surprised to find that she wasn't. Clara was wide awake and appeared to be examining her tiny hands. "Well, good morning!" he greeted her, reaching down to lightly tickle her tummy with his finger. "And how are you on this fine day, hmm? Did you sleep well, my littlest love?" He smiled when she reached up towards him. "Alright, you. Come here to Daddy."
"Happy to see that I'm not the only early riser around here," he said as he leaned down to pick her up. "You know what today is, don't you?" He lifted his eyebrows, pretending to give her a moment to think about it. "It's your first Christmas!"
Clara's response to this was to start gumming on the side of her fist. "I can see that you're beside yourself with excitement," Killian chuckled, bestowing a kiss on her head. "Well, this is a very special Christmas, I must say. Why? Because you're here, of course! Oh, and I'm so happy you're here, my darling. Yes, I am." He smiled at her while gently pulling her fist out of her mouth and holding it. "Daddy loves you so much, do you know that?" He was rewarded with a smile. "Oh, now you see, how can I ever resist that smile? I suppose I can't, now can I?"
She responded with something that almost sounded like dada, but not quite.
"You're right, of course. I'm obviously not meant to resist that smile. The very notion!" His smile softened as he watched her. "Merry first Christmas, Clara. I love you."
7th Christmas.
The little Christmas elf.
Emma dreamt that she was trapped in a bouncy house while a little elf kept calling her name. As she woke, she realized that of course she wasn't really trapped in a bouncy house. But the bed *was* bouncing. The elf, as it turned out, was her three-year-old daughter. Catalina had climbed up on the bed on Killian's side, which Emma noted was otherwise empty. Save for her little daughter who was bouncing on her knees.
"Wake up, Mommy! It's Christmas!" Catalina exclaimed, her voice bursting with excitement. "Mommy, it's Christmas!"
"I'm up, I'm up!" Emma said, attempting to match her daughter's enthusiasm and not quite succeeding. "Merry Christmas!" She sat up and opened her arms, nearly getting bowled over when Catalina hurled herself into them. "Good grief," Emma laughed. "Alright, my little Christmas elf." She eased her daughter back. "Do you know where Daddy is?"
Before Catalina had time to ponder this, Emma and Killian's bathroom door opened and Killian came out of it. "Daddy!" Catalina cheered, scrambling over Emma and down to the floor. "Daddy! Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!" She made a beeline for him, launching herself into his arms when he crouched down. "Guess what! Guess what, guess what, guess what!" She took a breath. "Guess what?"
"What?" He asked, excitedly. "What, what, what?" Now Killian took a breath in imitation of her. "What?"
"It's Christmas!" Catalina pulled back and started hopping, her joy apparently so great that she couldn't keep still. "Daddy, it's Christmas!"
"My heavens," he said. "You could show a little enthusiasm, aye?" It was his turn to laugh as he put hand and hook on her small shoulders. "Calm down, my little love! You're going to wear yourself out."
"But it's Christmas!"
"I know it is," he assured her. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart."
"Merry Christmas, Daddy," she replied, sweetly.
"Now, what shall we do, do you think? Go back to bed?" he teased.
"No!" She protested, looking utterly scandalized by the very suggestion.
"Shall we clean our rooms?" he asked.
"Daddy!"
"Okay, okay, okay," he laughed again. "How about this? Shall we go see what Santa's left for us?" This was met with a resounding yes.
"Come on, Daddy!" Catalina grabbed his hook and attempted to pull him to his feet. "Daddy, come on!" Now he stood, shaking his head at an amused Emma. "Come on, come on come on!"
"What time are your parents getting here?" Killian asked her. Catalina, meanwhile, was now trying to tug him towards the door.
"Probably in a couple of hours or so," Emma answered. "They were going to have breakfast and open their presents together first. Then they'll be on their way over."
Catalina dropped Killian's hook, opting instead to stand behind him and push on his legs to try to propel him forward. "Come on, Daddy!"
"I think someone wants to go downstairs," he quipped.
"You think?" Emma grinned at him. "Go on. I'll get Clara."
"Aye, I'll deal with this one." Killian said, suddenly spinning and sweeping Catalina up into his arms and making her giggle.
8th Christmas.
Family Cuddles.
It was Christmas Eve and the Jones family was snuggled up together on their couch. A fire was roaring in the fireplace. The house was full of Christmas decorations, the tree being the grand focal point over near the side door. In Emma's opinion, this was the prettiest Christmas tree that they had ever gotten.
Dinner had been a relatively quiet affair. As quiet as dinner could be with a four-year-old and a two-year-old, that is. They were having the big family get together tomorrow, but tonight it had just been the five of them. Henry had gone up to his room sometime after dinner, not wanting to partake in the family cuddle session. That had been expected, but Emma had hoped that he'd at least stick around for the story. As much as Emma hated admitting it sometimes, Henry was officially an adult now. He'd turned eighteen back in August. She supposed to she should be happy that he'd been so willing to join them for dinner.
Besides, it was hard to feel too sad while she had Clara nestled in her lap and Killian beside them. Catalina had settled in her father's arms, her back resting against his chest. And the three Jones women sat mesmerized while they listened to Killian read The Night Before Christmas.
In Emma's opinion, Killian's voice was absolutely made for storytelling. She could listen to him speak for hours. His voice was so warm and inviting. Killian had a knack for drawing one into the story he was telling. Be it from a book or a memory or something he was just making up as he went along.
Now the story had finished, much to the dismay of the Jones girls. "Read it again, Daddy," Catalina requested.
"I would love to, lass, but I think it's time for you girls to go to bed," Killian said, gently.
"Just one more time," Catalina pleaded. "Please Daddy?"
"Please Daddy?" Clara echoed.
"Yeah, please Daddy?" Emma put in, unable to resist. Killian shook his head, a smile on his face.
"I'm clearly outnumbered here," he chuckled. "Alright, my girls. I'll read it one more time and then you little ones really need to go to bed. Aye?"
"Aye," Catalina agreed.
"Very well." He bowed his head to kiss the top of her head before flipping back to the beginning of the book, though he knew the story by heart at this point. "'It was the night before Christmas and all through the house...'"
9th Christmas.
Relaxation.
Emma was a little stressed out.
Correction: she was very stressed out.
It just seemed like she had a million things to do to get ready for the holiday. Food to prepare, a couple of last minute gifts to buy - one of them for her father and the other for Killian. Even though Killian being Killian always said he didn't care much about gifts. Not for himself, at least. He enjoyed buying gifts for those he loved, especially when he'd found them something that they truly loved.
But he always said he didn't need presents and she knew he meant it. For Killian, just getting to spend time with his loved ones was enough. But dammit, she wanted to get him something special. She just had no idea what.
She had Christmas cards to get in the mail, even though she often questioned why she felt compelled to send them when they were only going to people in town. People that Emma would be seeing and thus, able to wish them a Merry Christmas in person. But whatever. She was going to mail out the cards anyway because she felt like she might get thrown out of town otherwise.
Not that that would ever actually happen. Storybrooke needed its Sheriff, after all. And besides, Emma had come to think of most Storybrooke residents as her extended family. There was absolutely zero chance of her getting tossed out of town. And yet she still felt an inexplicable need to mail them. It was madness.
Then there was all the wrapping to be done. She had not wrapped a single present and the pile she had of Christmas presents stuck in her closet seemed to grow each time she'd looked at it. Emma could practically feel the presents taunting her every time she went into her closet. "You'll never get us wrapped, see!" She imagined them saying. For whatever reason she imagined the presents talking to her as if they were part of some kind of classic gangster movie.
It was quite possible she was losing her mind.
Correction: she was absolutely losing her mind. The other day she'd actually asked Regina if she knew of any spells that caused gifts to mysteriously multiply. Regina's response had been to ask if Emma had been drinking.
Emma had taken that as a no.
Maybe she should start.
Okay, that probably wasn't a good idea. She did enjoy a drink every now and then, but getting hammered wasn't going to help anything.
She just needed to focus, is all. She'd taken a good first step and asked David if he'd mind covering for her at the station a couple of days this week so she could check some things off her list. He had agreed.
Her father was a saint. He truly was. Prime candidate for sainthood right there, in Emma's eyes.
Except that when he'd agreed with no begging on her part, she'd said he was a prince. And then made a lame joke about how he really was a prince and charming. So that's why they called him Prince Charming. Yeah, it was lame. Very lame.
And it had lead to David asking if she'd been drinking.
The fact that two people in her life had found cause to ask Emma if she'd been drinking based on her behavior seemed to give credence to the losing her mind theory.
It was ridiculous. Why she should be so stressed out this year after surviving every other Christmas up until this point was beyond her.
She needed to get it together and get some things done. So she could relax a little bit. And stop acting like some kind of neurotic, stressed out pod person.
Everything was going fine the first day. She'd gotten a lot of her shopping done, both gift and food related. Save for a special gift for Killian. She still had no ideas. But she'd at least managed to make a dent in her Christmas cards.
On the second day, her mission was clear. It was wrapping time. If only she didn't completely hate wrapping presents. She'd gotten better at it over the years; she could make her presents look pretty nice now. But she hated it. And despite checking some things off her list, she was still incredibly stressed out.
To the point that when she'd run out of tape while wrapping something for her mother, she'd started crying tears of pure frustration. Naturally Clara, her sweet and sensitive three-year-old, was there when it happened and had started crying too. The fact that Emma, notorious for the walls she had built to protect herself, was somehow raising a tender-hearted daughter who cried whenever others cried somehow made Emma cry even harder.
Especially since she felt guilty for inadvertently making her baby girl cry. Trying to calm a little kid down while you were crying yourself was not an easy task. It had been sometime during this little crying session that Henry had come home with Catalina. Henry had done Emma a favor and picked up his little sister from her dance lesson and been alarmed to come home to find his mom and littlest sister in tears. He'd managed to get them both to calm down with assistance from Catalina.
Henry had then sent his sisters into the living room to play and asked Emma what on earth had upset her in the first place. Come to find out? Crying because she'd run out of tape made her son wonder if she had been drinking. Because of course that was what he would wonder.
By the time Killian had come home, Emma had been slightly calmer. Henry had kept his sisters entertained while she actually finished her Christmas cards. Had even zipped out to get them in the mail. One of her most annoying tasks was officially done.
And Killian, bless him, had returned home not only with takeout from Granny's for dinner, but tape. Oh yes, her husband had known they were running low and had thought to pick some up. If they weren't already married, she'd want to marry him just for that.
But then Emma had gone back to her closet in the hopes of getting more wrapping done after dinner. Only to let out a strangled scream of frustration as she looked at them. The present pile had grown, once again. She would swear to it.
"Alright, Swan?" Emma turned to find Killian standing there looking bewildered.
"How does that pile keep growing?! I swear, it wasn't that big earlier," she complained, narrowing her eyes when he opened his mouth. "And no, I have not been drinking, so don't ask me if I have."
Killian thought about saying something, but chose not to. Deciding to wait for her to explain instead.
"I'm losing my mind," she confessed. At his eyebrow lift of encouragment, all her holiday related frustrations started pouring out of her. "Christmas is in two days. Two. Days." She lifted two fingers in demonstration. "And I've lost my mind. I'm so stressed out and I don't know why! I don't know how you can be so damn calm. And I rea-"
Evidently, Killian's solution to his wife rambling off a stress filled rant was to kiss her silly midsentence. "You need a break, love," he murmured against her lips. "Allow me to help you."
"But..."
"Ssh." He grabbed her hand and towed her into the bathroom. "I'm going to draw you a bath," he informed her, going to the tub and starting to fiddle with the faucet.
"A bath?" she asked, confused. "Now?"
"Aye," he nodded. "As I said, you need a break. And it'll help to relax you."
"But the girls..." she trailed off.
"What about them?"
"We need to get them to bed," she reminded him.
"I shall attend to our girls," he promised, reaching for the bottle of her favorite bubble bath that she kept by the tub and pouring some under the running water. "Don't you worry about that. Don't worry about what you have left to do. Don't worry about anything at all."
"Oh Killian." Heaven help her, she was getting weepy again as she watched the tub fill with water. As long as they'd been together, as long as they'd been married, there were still times when Emma couldn't believe she had someone willing to do something as simple for her as draw her a bath. Still times when it took her breath away.
It was such a small thing in the grand scheme of things. Especially when compared to some of the things he had done for her. Like trade away his beloved ship in order to find her and bring her home. But to someone like Emma, the seemingly little things he did for her meant so much more than she could ever tell him.
He turned to look at her after shutting the faucet off, his face softening at the expression on hers. He understood. She knew he understood. And loved him all the more for it. "Come here, my love." He opened his arms and she fell into them.
"Thank you," she whispered. It wasn't just for the bath and he knew that too. "I love you."
"And I you," he said, easing her back to give her a gentle kiss.
"Killian?"
"Yes?"
"I don't know what to get you for Christmas," she confessed, tearfully.
"My darling Emma," he sighed, kissing her forehead. "Is this one of the things that's been stressing you out?"
"Yes."
"You do realize that you are the single greatest Christmas gift I could ever ask for," he said, his voice ringing with sincerity. "You and our girls and Henry. As long as I get to spend the day with you all, I'll be perfectly content."
"I knew you'd say that," she said quietly.
"I mean it," he said.
"I know you do." She leaned it to rest her forehead against his. "I still want to get you something."
"Very well," he nodded. "Enjoy your bath. That's what I want for Christmas."
"That doesn't count," she argued.
"It does so count," he countered. "You're putting too much pressure on yourself this year, love. I know it's because you always want Christmas to be special for the rest of us and I love that about you. But if you ask me, you don't take nearly enough time for yourself. You've more than earned it. So let me worry about what needs to be done while you shut the rest of the world out for a while. Let me pamper you, Swan. That's what I want. Alright? Enjoy your bath."
"I guess I can do that," she smiled at him.
"Good."
10th Christmas.
Christmas Cookies.
It was a day for baking. Snow had more or less commandeered Emma and Killian's kitchen, armed with recipes for all kinds of different cookies. Most of them were cookies that she made every Christmas, but there were a couple of new recipes she wanted to try mixed in.
She'd put everyone to work, handing out recipes to the adults and Henry and supervising their efforts. They were responsible for making sure that the cookies were made properly. The children, meanwhile, got to decide how they wanted the cookies to look. They got to pick which cookie cutters would be used and decorate them when they were done.
"Alright Catalina," David was saying as he smiled at his oldest granddaughter. "We have a very important decision to make. Do you want these cookies to look like stars?" He held up the star shaped cookie cutter in one hand. "Or bells?" The bell shaped cookie cutter was in the other. "Or we could get really crazy and do stars and bells. What do you think?"
"Hmm." Catalina tapped her chin thoughtfully as she looked back and forth between the two. Deciding which cookie cutter to use was serious business, don't you know. "Both."
"Star and bells," David nodded. "A bold choice, but I like it. Do you want to help me cut them out?" An enthusiastic nod. "Alright. Pick your weapon." It was to be the bell cookie cutter for Catalina. Neal, meanwhile, was occupied putting frosting on one of the other batches of cookies.
And Clara was on what Snow had called sprinkle duty. Like her sister with the cookie cutters, Clara took her sprinkle selection seriously. Snow had come armed with an absurd selection of sprinkles to choose from.
"Mom, don't you think we have enough by now?" Emma asked.
"Oh, you can never have too many cookies at Christmas," Snow replied. "I was thinking we could make little bundles to pass out to our friends. Oh, and Henry, you'll have to take some to Regina's when you go back to her house."
Regina had been invited to the cookie making party, but had come down with the flu and been unable to attend. So it had just been the Charming Jones clan with Henry acting as the representative for the Mills family. At least that's what David had called it.
"Hey Snow, last year you made those mint and chocolate cookies. Are we not making those this year?" Killian asked.
"You mean these cookies?" Snow asked, handing him the recipe card for the cookies in question with a flourish. "Did you really think we wouldn't make these? I know how much you love them."
It was true. Killian wasn't anywhere near as much of a fan of sweets as the rest of the family generally was, but there were some he couldn't resist. And these were one of them.
Not that he was going to admit it.
"I was asking for Clara," he protested. "They're her favorite."
"They're your favorite too, Daddy," Catalina piped up.
"Don't you have cookies to help Grandpa cut?" Killian asked, playfully, reaching over to ruffle her hair.
By the time they were done, Emma imagined that they could open up their own bakery. But then the more she thought about it, the more she realized that her mother had been right.
You can never have too many cookies at Christmas.