Author's note: Chapter 25 happens to be Christmas! I did not do this on purpose; this story was originally supposed to be 13-ish chapters. Shows what I know. Only 2 more chapters left, everyone! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Very much not mine.

Chapter 25

"Do you see her yet?" Emma asked, standing on her toes. The crowd at the Heathrow arrivals gate was insane, two days before Christmas. Emma spoke to her mother before she got on the plane in Boston; she and Killian were in Oxford. One last stop before returning to London for the holiday. It had been an incredible week alone with her boyfriend, but she was excited to see her mother. And a little nervous. The prospect of having their families under the same roof was a bit daunting.

"Not yet," Killian replied for the fifth time. He was taller than her, of course, not that it gave him much of an advantage in the throng. It hadn't been this busy when they arrived nearly two weeks ago. Ah, the holidays.

"I hope there wasn't a problem."

"Board says her flight was on time, darling. Perhaps she's still getting her bags?"

Emma squeezed his hand. "I'm sure you're right. I'm just..."

"Nervous?" Killian chuckled. "Now why ever would you be nervous?"

"It's a big deal...our families spending the holiday together. Isn't it?"

"I'm hoping it's the first of many, lass. Perhaps we can host next year." She looked at him with wide eyes. That was a responsibility she hadn't even considered. "I'm only jesting. I wouldn't mind making London an annual trip, eh?"

Emma exhaled. "Yeah, I'd like that." She kissed his cheek. "How about we have my mom over for Thanksgiving?"

He smiled down at her; she'd come so far from the walled off woman he met just a few months ago. This was her way of meeting him halfway and he loved her for it. "Do you actually know how to make a turkey, love?"

She scowled and smacked his chest. "I've got almost eleven months to figure it out, haven't I?"

"I'd never let you face such a task alone. We'll do it together."

If there wasn't a crowd of strangers around them she'd have kissed the smug smirk off his face. But she secretly liked it. Instead, she nudged him with her hip, leading to Killian wrapping her up in a bear hug and planting a firm smacking kiss to her lips anyway. Emma playfully struggled, pretending to be cross with him. But they both knew the truth.

"Still the most adorable couple," a bemused feminine voice cut into their bubble.

Emma settled down, looking toward her mother, cheeks on fire. "Um, hi, Mom."

Killian cleared his throat. "Hello, Ingrid. Let me take your bags." Fortunately, the older woman didn't have much but it gave mother and daughter a chance to hug.

"I've missed you," Ingrid said, hugging Emma tight.

"Me too, Mom."

"How was your flight?" Killian asked, adjusting his grip on Ingrid's larger suitcase.

"Long. Uneventful. They showed that new dinosaur movie, I think? What was it called?"

Emma laughed. "Jurassic World?"

"That's it." Emma and her mom walked arm in arm, Killian following out to where Liam's SUV was waiting. "I think it might be colder here than in Boston!"

"They think we may have a white Christmas," Killian said, fishing out Liam's keys. His brother had been very specific about driving his car. Killian did not want to deal with a lecture at Christmas. He popped the back hatch, then tossed Emma the keys. "You ladies get warm and I'll load the luggage."

"So how's your trip been?" Ingrid asked, as Emma started the car and turned on the heat. "Those are some spectacular pictures you've been sending, Emma."

"I've got more. Killian thinks I've got an eye for photography." She just thought he was humoring her, not that she minded. Taking pictures was fun. And she didn't want to forget a moment of this trip. It was magical in a way she'd never believed possible.

"I'm sure he does," Ingrid said with a smile. She was still pleasantly surprised at the change in Emma since the summer. There was still so much of the lost little girl Ingrid had taken in, but the girl in front of her was a passionate, talented young woman, so in love with her Killian that she seemed to have stars in her eyes. It made Ingrid happy and sad all at once. But definitely more on the happy side. Emma deserved to be happy.

Killian climbed in the driver's seat. "Not too long of a drive to my brother's townhouse," he said to Ingrid. "I imagine you'd like to get settled?"

"What time is it here?"

Emma laughed. "It took me a while to get used to it. It's nearly eight in the evening, Mom. Hungry? Maybe we can stop at that pub down the street? Or the Indian place? Mom, they have the best Indian food; you need to try it."

"Let her breathe, love," Killian said with a laugh. "Plenty of time to go exploring. Ingrid, if you are hungry, my sister in law would be more than happy to make something."

"Oh, I couldn't put her out like that, not this late! But Indian food sounds good."

"Lass, ring Liam, let him know we'll be a tad late returning his vehicle. He likes you."

Emma rolled her eyes but fished Killian's phone from his pocket and called Liam to explain their detour. He made his typical grumbling noises but Emma was learning to read his moods. They would be fine as long as the car was returned by bedtime. Liam had the next week off from his job; Emma gathered that Christmas was a big deal for the Jones household. With the baby on the way and Emma, Ingrid and Killian visiting, Liam had some things planned for them to, aside from dinner and presents on Christmas day.

Emma and Ingrid got caught up over Indian food with Killian observing quietly. They talked about all the places Emma had seen; she was in her element. When Emma let someone in, she was warm and giving; it truly was a privilege. Killian didn't intend on taking that for granted. When they returned to the townhouse, Killian once again shouldered the bags as Emma led Ingrid inside.

They found Molly and Liam in the living room, watching TV, drinking hot chocolate. "Hey guys."

"Emma!" Molly stood, hastily setting down her mug. "And you must be Ingrid! It's a pleasure to meet you, Emma's told us so much about you." Liam hung back a little, letting the ladies get acquainted.

Ingrid smiled. "Molly, I presume?" The two ladies hugged like they were old friends; Emma did a silent exhale. She had a feeling they would get along, but seeing it definitely eased her mind. "How is the little one?"

Molly beamed. "Just fine. We saw the doctor earlier this week. We're having a little girl."

"Emma! You never said!" Ingrid accused.

"I've been busy! Off touring the country and stuff, sheesh. I'm not the pregnant one."

Killian returned from putting Ingrid's things in the other guest room. Far away from theirs thankfully. "Still at it?" he asked his brother.

"Aye. I haven't had the privilege yet."

"You're afraid," Killian said slyly.

"Am not."

"Yes, you are. Your thumb's twitching. It's your tell, Liam. Learned that when I was ten years old."

"I do not have a tell."

"Don't ever play poker, brother." He cleared his throat. Loudly. "Ingrid? Have you met my brother yet?"

"No! Sorry. Liam, is it?"

Liam's ears turned pink. Given the way Liam first met Emma, Killian thought he had good cause to be nervous. He'd said some awful things to Ingrid's daughter. But he and Emma had mended fences. "Aye. It's good to finally meet you, Ingrid." They shook hands, Ingrid's blue eyes twinkling with mirth. She didn't hold a grudge, as long as Emma was happy.

"Thank you for letting me stay with you. It's very generous."

"We're happy to have you. It's nice, having the house filled with family."

Molly wrapped an arm around her husband's waist. "It really is. Please make yourself at home, Ingrid."

"I'm sure we'll all have a wonderful time together."

Liam looked at the clock. "Perhaps we should call it a night? I'm sure Ingrid's tired from her flight."

"Liam and I are making brunch tomorrow, if you want to sleep in," Killian added, winking at Emma. "Then we can go to Winter Wonderland."

"What's that?" Emma asked.

"You'll see."

"I'm intrigued," Ingrid said. "But definitely tired." Emma offered to take her to her room. "Is Liam always that...stiff?"

Emma smirked. "No. I don't think he was sure what kind of reception he was going to get."

"Well, that's just silly. Unless he burns brunch tomorrow."

"Killian will save him."

"Good looking and he cooks? Hang on to that one, dear."

Emma nodded. "I intend to."

Brunch wasn't the disaster Ingrid expected. In fact, the Jones brothers acquitted themselves quite well in the kitchen. The ladies sat the island counter, sipping tea and chatting, as the boys cooked. It was obvious Killian was the better cook, but Liam made a very good batch of French toast. It was a nice relaxed way to get to know each other better; Molly surprised everyone by asking Emma for a couple of her photos to hang in the nursery.

The ladies then spent another hour in said nursery before the group piled into Liam's SUV. Emma and Killian had to sit in the back with Ingrid, which was only a little awkward. They'd gotten used to being affectionate in front of Liam and Molly, but Ingrid was her mother. A little circumspection was required.

"So where are we headed?" Emma asked.

"Winter Wonderland, lass. In Hyde Park."

"You'll love it," Molly assured them. "There's ice skating and little shops and an observation wheel. I've been every year and there's always something new to see."

"Sounds like fun," Ingrid said.

They found a place to park and walked the rest of the way. It was cold, iron gray clouds covered the city; Emma secretly hoped the did have a white Christmas. Even if they didn't she suspected this would be the best Christmas of her life, surrounded by people who loved her. She and Killian walked hand in hand, taking in the sights and smells of the park. It would be very pretty in the springtime, but she liked the ice rink and lights and bustling shops and restaurants. The lights were already on despite the time of day; it lent to the Christmas vibe. There were people of all ages enjoying the space; Emma wasn't sure what to do first.

"Can you skate?" Killian asked, next to her ear.

Emma shrugged. "I've never actually done it before."

"Roller skate, perhaps?"

She shook her head. "Sorry."

"We'll just have to teach you then." He addressed their little group. "Who's up for some skating?" Everyone agreed that skating was a great idea and they went to get some skates from one of the vendors. Emma sat on a bench replacing her boots with ice skates, glancing skeptically at the thin blades. "You're gonna do just fine, love," Killian assured her. "And if not, I'll be there to catch you."

Emma rolled here eyes. "Maybe I'll catch you."

"Should we lay a wager?"

"It's not a wager if you know the outcome."

"Very well. We'll let you get your feet under you, then we'll wager."

"What does the winner get?"

He leaned in close to her so no one could overhear. "Choice on our next sexual escapade?"

Emma flushed and it wasn't due to the cold. Her mother was like five feet away! "Deal." She wobbled the moment she tried to stand, but true to his word, Killian was there to steady her. Ingrid skated as a girl with her sisters so she was happily skating slow rings around them as Killian helped Emma on the ice.

"Slow and steady there," he murmured. "Push off gently, hold on to my hand, yeah?"

Emma swallowed, trembling a bit from nerves and the chill. "Okay." She tried to push off like he said, but it was harder than it looked. "Ugh!"

"Here try standing," Killian said patiently. He would never pass up a chance to be close to her or touch her. He skated around behind her, arms sliding around her waist. "Feel the balance, don't fight gravity too much."

Emma sighed; didn't he know how difficult it was to focus with his rough voice in her ear like that? It made her want to say the hell with skating in favor of stripping him naked and licking him all over. She bit her lip as he moved them over the ice, hands tight on her hips. She could feel the heat of him through their coats. "Move your feet, sweetheart," he said softly, lips brushing her ear.

"Sorry," she mumbled, making a greater effort to actually participate.

"I think I know what you're thinking and I very much approve. I'll make it worthwhile later, lass."

"Promises, promises."

"After all this time you doubt me?"

She smirked, turning awkwardly to face him. "So teach me, professor."

He growled softly and proceeded to do just that, skating with her, instructing, until she could try it on her own. She wobbled a bit, but just as he promised she did start to get her legs under her. It didn't take much longer for her to skate fairly decently on her own. The two couples got into an impromptu game of tag with another, leaving Ingrid to referee. They laughed and played until Molly was winded, Liam taking his wife off for something warm to drink. Ingrid bowed out too, leaving Emma and Killian alone.

"You've become quite the student," Killian purred in her ear when they were alone.

"I had a good teacher." She grabbed his hand and skated off, dragging Killian with her. He pretended to huff and puff but Emma knew better. She screeched as Killian spun her around, faster and faster, until she was dizzy and staggering. She almost fell but, of course, he caught her. They did take a tumble, but Killian bore the brunt of it, landing with a heavy oomph.

"You...are...crazy," Emma puffed, smacking his chest, vision still blurry from spinning.

"But you still love me?"

She smiled down at him, blowing some hair out of her face. "Of course I do, babe." She tried to kiss him but missed; she was still a little dizzy. Killian just laughed and adjusted her aim, kissing her slowly in the middle of the rink as dozens skated around them.

Her nose and cheeks were bright pink from both the cold and exertion, so they went to put their shoes back on and find their family. They were nestled in a small coffee shop, holding steaming mugs and munching on muffins. Emma got some coffee and muffins for she and Killian, shooing him away when he tried to pay. He'd been far too generous to her on this trip; she was determined to by coffee. It was vacation, so she accepted him spoiling her with (mostly) good grace, but when they lived together she was going to pull her own weight.

"I was hungry so I got a couple different ones," she said, sliding in next to Killian. "But we can share."

"You're an angel," Killian sighed, diving into one of the muffins.

"You'd think you didn't eat three hours ago," Molly joked, eating a cookie.

"Exercise," Killian replied, mouth partially full. "Hard work out there."

"Aye, because you're an exercise fiend," Liam deadpanned. He looked at Ingrid. "I had to drag this one out to football practice with me. Mum wasn't too pleased."

"Because she knew I'd rather be drawing," Killian countered, swallowing. "You were the athlete."

"Funny, I don't hear Emma complaining," Liam shot back, unapologetic. Emma flushed; she was very fond of the results from Killian's workouts but she knew he didn't do them for her. Did he?

"I might have picked up a few habits from my big brother," Killian conceded.

"I tried to get Emma to try out for track in high school, but she likes to run alone," Ingrid said, smiling at Emma.

"You run?" Killian said, surprised.

"I've gotten out of the habit a little between two jobs and school work," she replied, glancing at him knowingly.

"Perhaps we could run together."

Emma nodded. "I'll have more time this semester; I'd like that." She wanted to make some time for her friends her final semester; with her lighter class load, that should be much easier than it had been. Although, admittedly, she had made time to get herself a boyfriend. Priorities.

"What classes are you taking in the spring, Emma?" Ingrid asked.

"Mostly electives to round out my credit hours. Finishing up Spanish too."

"There might a spot in one of the photography classes," Killian said casually.

Emma smiled fondly. "I don't know, I kinda like keeping that to myself." Besides, if it was "art" then she'd much rather share it with him.

"Just mentioning it as an option," he reminded her, nudging her shin with his foot.

"You get Spring Break, yeah?" Liam asked.

"Aye, in March."

"I'll be big as a house then, Liam, do not ask them to come!" Molly cried.

"And you'll be beautiful," her husband countered. "What's wrong with a visit?"

"Well, I was thinking we'd be house hunting," Killian explained. "Or at least scouting, right, love?"

Emma frowned. "I might have some news by then. Depends on the school. I got in the second round of submissions instead of the first."

"You'll have no trouble," he assured her, kissing her temple. "I just thought with your internship, we'd start looking. Unless..."

"Unless what?"

"We go to a beach?"

Her eyes lit up. It had been so long since she'd been to the beach and she could think of no one else she'd rather go with. "I like that idea."

"You'd rather go to the beach than visit your brother?" Liam cried, feigning hurt.

"Let them have fun," Molly scolded. "They've earned it." Liam made some vaguely grumbling noise, but everyone ignored him. Killian knew his brother was only taking the mickey. They'd spend some quality time together after Christmas. And now that their hurt feelings were out in the open, Killian hoped they'd become closer, despite the physical distance between them when he and Emma returned home.

Home. That word had certainly taken on new meaning for him in the last several months. Being back in London—as much as he enjoyed seeing his family—only reinforced that. London wasn't home anymore. He would always be fond of it, would want to see Liam and Molly and their little one. He'd been raised there. But it also carried many painful memories. However, even his house wasn't home. It was just a place he lived, a roof over his head. It didn't start to feel like a home until Emma began spending so much time there. He missed her when she wasn't there; the house felt empty, hollow. Perhaps it had before and he'd been too blind to see it? Whatever the case, Killian looked forward to them seeking out a new home of their own. The physical dwelling was an afterthought. It was sharing it with the woman he loved that made it special.

They spent a couple more hours shopping and riding the observation wheel. But Liam wanted to let Molly rest before they attended the midnight service at the church, so they headed back to the townhouse. Liam looked like he'd rather go to the gallows than attend, but it was a compromise with Molly's parents (well, her father) who were less than pleased to be sharing their daughter's time with Liam's family. Killian wasn't interested in going anyway; he hadn't gone to church in years. He'd lost interest after his mother's death.

After a light dinner, Molly napped while the others chatted downstairs, Killian, Emma and Ingrid adding their presents to the pile under the pretty tree. Ingrid insisted on taking pictures of the couple in front of the tree, then Killian insisted on a mother/daughter photo. As Liam was cleaning up the kitchen, Killian slipped Emma a small wrapped box.

"What's this?" Emma asked, curious brow raised.

"I know gifts are tomorrow, but I wanted to give you this away from prying eyes," he said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Of all his gifts for her, this one was the one he was concerned about. She would no doubt think it was cheesy, but he couldn't resist.

"Okay," Emma said slowly. She untied the ribbon and opened the box. Inside was a beautiful blown glass ornament of a swan. She gasped, hand shaking it a little. It was so fragile, she was afraid she'd break it.

"There's an etching on the side," Killian said quietly.

Emma turned the swan carefully, finding it on the left side. It read, E&K, Christmas, 2015. She felt tears burn her eyes, but she blinked them away. Happy tears or not, she wanted to hold it together. "It's gorgeous," she whispered. "Thank you." She looked up at him, wanting to hug him but terrified of ruining her gift. "Shall we put it on the tree?"

"It's coming home with us," Killian reminded her, "but aye." Together they found a spot near the top, nestling the delicate swan among the branches. "Perfect."

Emma did hug him then, unbelievably touched by his gift. "Anything I give you will seem terribly lame after this," she joked, kissing him soundly.

"Nonsense. Every minute I spend with you is a gift all by itself."

"Such a sap."

"Only for you, love." They returned to the telly, saying good night to Molly and Liam as they left. Ingrid turned in not long after; she was going to help Molly cook Christmas dinner, at her own insistence. Emma and Killian stayed up a little longer, curling together on the couch to watch one of the many versions of A Christmas Carol.

"The book is okay," Emma observed toward the end, "but I like watching it better."

"Why's that, love?" Killian knew Emma loved to read.

"Well, Dickens got paid by the word, right? He just was a bit overzealous with them."

Killian laughed, a full blown belly laugh. "I'd never thought of it that way, but I suppose you're right."

"Good fodder for English teachers, I guess."

"Have you learned any new words?"

Emma tilted her head, thinking. "Git. Ponce. Berk. Telly. Chuffed? Knackered. Blimey. Tosser. Go spare. Probably more but those are the ones I remember."

"They sound so strange in your flat American accent, love," he said, chuckling.

"Perhaps I should start talking like you?" she replied, doing a truly awful imitation of his accent.

"No, no, let's keep your lovely voice the way it is." He kissed her to silence her protest and she melted, keenly aware that they had the living room to themselves. They made out until the TV switched itself off, long forgotten. "I think it's time for bed."

"Already?"

"It's after midnight, lass. I'm sure Molly and Liam will be home shortly."

"Right." They headed to their room, going through their nightly routine as quietly as possible. Ingrid was down the hall, hopefully fast asleep. "How's your bum?" Emma asked as they got into bed.

He cocked a brow at her. "Are you asking to inspect it, love?"

"You offering?" Killian didn't even blush; he just rolled on his side and yanked his plaid sleep pants down. Emma skimmed her fingertips over it; there wasn't even a bruise to show he'd fallen. Still, she pressed her lips to it. "Better?"

"Perhaps."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Let's get some sleep, Casanova."

"I did make you a promise earlier," he reminded her, hiking up his pants and turning to face her.

"Yeah, but what I was thinking requires an empty house," Emma said slyly.

"Planning on being loud, lass?"

"Among other things."

He kissed her sweetly before pulling the blankets up to cover them. "Then you should hold that thought."

Emma sighed at his arms came around her. "Definitely."

She was positioned on the chair, Killian twisting her nude form into a provocative pose, legs spread, arm tied to the back, making her chest jut out. She squirmed, not because she didn't trust him, but because he was teasing her. His long fingers flitted over every sensitive place, mouth hot on her nipples until they were pebbled and hard. He wanted to paint her aroused, aroused and aching for him; she'd agreed embarrassingly quickly.

She loved being his muse.

"Just focus on me, darling," he murmured, cupping her sex. "Then I'll give you what you want."

Emma nodded, biting her lip as she watched him work. Unlike that very first time he'd sketched her in his studio, this was no holds barred; she was naked and bound, insanely turned on, he touched himself as he worked, groaning in pleasure.

"So beautiful," he whispered, relishing her hungry gaze. He smirked at her, still pulling loosely on his cock. "All mine."

Emma squirmed again, another rush of wetness leaking out of her. She wondered if he could make her come like this, just his gravelly voice as she watched him masterbate. "Fuck," she cursed, hips rocking against the air.

Killian woke up to Emma's soft sounds...was she moaning? In about half a second, his cock stood at attention, recognizing those sounds. She made those sweet sounds when she was frustrated and wanting, begging for his touch. Yet, she appeared to be fast asleep. She was dreaming...about him? After all this time, he hoped he was the only man invading her dreams. Her oversized shirt had ridden up under the blanket; it was twisted around her midsection. She'd stolen the blankets again; Killian had to work to loosen them. "Oh," she moaned softly.

Killian wondered what he was doing to her dreamself to make that glorious sound. He rolled on his back and rubbed his cock through the fabric of his pants. It only teased him, but it felt good. He could let her sleep, masterbate to the sounds of her dream, but where was the fun in that? If Emma was aroused then he was more than happy to take care of her. He ducked under the blanket, easing her legs apart. One sniff told him she was soaked; it was a very good dream then. Featherlight, he kissed the inside of her thighs, moving higher and higher until he could lick her from back to front. He didn't stop, just kept licking, teasing her clit with his tongue, slowly bringing her to wakefulness.

Emma sighed, spreading her legs farther, giving him more access to her needy flesh. It felt so good; her dreams never quite captured the way her heart raced when Killian ate her. It took her a few toe curling flicks of his warm tongue to realize that she was no longer in her dream, a gasp clawing at her throat. "Killian?"

"I do hope it was I in your dream," he replied, voice muffled by the blanket.

Emma threw it off; sure enough his dark head was sinfully between her thighs. "Always," she said sleepily. "Don't stop."

"I wasn't planning on it." His mouth descended again; he knew her body so well, he didn't need light. He knew her better than himself, lips and tongue moving over her lovingly. Emma fisted his hair, so glad he woke her up. She had to bite her lip as the pleasure mounted; it was late, the rest of the house was asleep. They had to be quiet, which added a thrill. "God, I love your taste, sweetheart," he muttered, the vibrations going through her. Emma moaned, thrusting against his face.

"Fuck, more," she hissed. She crushed the pillow under her head, needing some kind of outlet as she barreled toward orgasm. She nearly screamed when he pressed three fingers inside her fluttering core, mouth fused to her clit. He could feel her trembling, her climax very close. He scraped his teeth over her sensitive nub and she went off, face buried in the pillow, muffling her cry.

He eased her down slowly, his own hips rocking against the mattress. He needed to feel her squeeze him, taste the salt on her skin as she fell apart for him. "Need you, lass," he whispered.

Emma grabbed his hand and pulled him toward her. "Me too," she whispered breathlessly. She somehow found his lips in the dark, kissing him passionately, fingers grabbing his t-shirt. He mauled her breast with his hand as she fumbled with his pants. They managed to get them off in a tangle of limbs, Killian hauling her against his chest.

"Tell me what you were dreaming, darling," he growled, lifting her leg. His chest was hot against her back but it just made her burn hotter. She was addicted to the way he needed her.

Emma whined with impatience, grinding her ass against his hard cock. "Us...you were...painting me."

"Hmm, I love it already," he murmured, biting on her earlobe. "What else?"

Emma reached behind her, fingers diving in his hair. "I was...naked, tied to a chair...fuck, it was so good."

"Made you so hot, lass," he whispered, gliding his cock through her wetness, teasing them both. "You were hot and slick, still are. Bloody hell, I can't get enough of you."

She turned her head, kissing him wetly. "You were touching yourself...need you, please."

"Fuck, I love when you beg for me," he hissed, rearing back and sliding home. They both let out a strangled cry, hands entwined as he took her. Emma bit her lip; she felt so full, his cock hitting her just right. She shivered, rocking back against him, needing everything he could give her. It didn't matter how often they made love; it made her feel alive.

There was no better place than his arms.

"That's it, Emma," he said in her ear. "You feel incredible. Always."

She brought their joined hands to her breast, curling her leg more firmly over his hip. "Fuck, touch me," she pleaded. "Need."

"I've got you." He pinched her nipple, rolled it in his fingers, adjusted his hips, taking her harder, deeper. In moments, Emma was trembling again, fighting the need to scream. Her climax hit without warning, rippling out from her core, stealing her breath. Killian grunted, his own orgasm tingling at the base of his spine. A handful of thrusts later, he was there, hoarsely whispering her name as she shuddered with aftershocks. "Bloody hell."

Emma sagged, spent, already sleepy again. Still, it was the best kind of late night wake up. She weakly stroked his scruffy cheek, trying to catch her breath. "Love you," she mumbled.

Killian chuckled dryly. "And I you." He kissed her hair. "Sleepy again?"

"Maybe a little. But you are the best."

"And you are sleepy and sated, my darling." He rolled her on her back, lips skimming her temple. "Be right back." He climbed from the bed and fetched something to clean her up. When he returned, she was already half asleep; he went about his task then rejoined her. She rolled over and cuddled against his chest, asleep again in moments. It didn't take him long to join her.

Emma woke up first, surprised to still be in his arms. She'd been doing that more and more lately, moving toward him in sleep. He was warm and solid, always at her side. She stretched a little, a dull ache in all the right places. Killian grunted and shifted, mumbling something she didn't catch. Emma smiled lazily, skimming a butterfly kiss to his scruffy jaw. She'd let him sleep a while longer while she snagged a shower.

She could already smell coffee brewing and faint sounds coming from the kitchen, but she didn't think it would be a good idea to join the family with the scent of sex clinging to her skin. She was washing her hair, eyes closed, humming softly to herself when the sound of the shower door opening startled her. "Holy shit!" she cried, trying vainly to cover herself.

"Shh, love, it's only me," Killian whispered, placing a finger to her lips.

"What the hell are you doing?" Emma hissed, glaring at him, suds sliding down her back.

"Taking a shower," he said matter of factly. "That a crime now?"

"We're in your brother's house," she reminded him, crossing her arms over her chest. "Are you insane?"

Killian gave her a pout. "I woke up and missed you," he said, stroking her cheek. "Are you really cross with me?"

He was being reckless and ridiculous with that pout, but she wasn't really angry. Just surprised. "No," she admitted. "But you did scare the crap out of me."

"Sorry," he said and meant it. "Let me make it up to you?"

"Uh huh, no dice," she said, pushing a little on his chest. She backed him into the opposite wall of the shower. "But tonight you can." She stood up on her toes and kissed him, not fighting him when he deepened it. They actually did manage to wash rather than give into their libidos again, but it was close. Killian had to check that the coast was clear before going back to their room to dress; Emma felt like they were back in his office, sneaking around.

After dressing, they walked hand in hand downstairs, finding the rest of the family in the kitchen. Killian was extra attentive, fetching her coffee and filling her plate of leftover brunch goodies. "Merry Christmas, everyone," Emma said, sipping her coffee.

There was a chorus of "Merry Christmas" in reply, no one seemingly the wiser to their shared shower. Killian winked at her and Emma scowled at him. "Everyone eat up so we can open presents," Liam said from behind his newspaper.

"What are you, brother? Six?"

"You were just as bad, Killian," Liam retorted. "Every Christmas from two to ten, you woke Mum up by hopping on her bed at four in the morning."

"What made him stop?" Emma asked, amused.

"He hopped too high and fell. Badly twisted his ankle and had to spend most of Christmas Day in hospital."

"Poor baby," Emma sympathized, kissing her boyfriend's cheek. The skin was bright red from embarrassment. Ingrid launched into a story about Christmas with her sisters, for which Killian nodded gratefully. Emma used the distraction to slip her hand into his back pocket, giving him a little squeeze. His eyebrows shot up but he said nothing. The next thing she knew his hand was planted firmly on her thigh, out of sight of the others.

No one wished to overeat on breakfast, not with the late day meal already cooking. Some of the dishes Emma didn't recognize but she did spot her mother's green bean casserole being prepared. She liked the idea of each family's traditions coming together like this. Emma helped Molly clean up while the boys found some Christmas music and Ingrid took a call from her sisters.

"How was the service?" Emma asked, rinsing off a dish.

"About the same. Dad was even nice to Liam."

"Is there a reason they don't get along?"

Molly shrugged. "It's all ridiculous, really. Liam has a few rough edges compared to how I grew up, but he's a good man. He's going to be a wonderful father." She touched her belly fondly. "Even if he doesn't quite believe it himself."

"Is it scary? Having a baby?" Emma still didn't know when or if she'd ever be ready, but she knew next to nothing about her own parents.

Molly looked thoughtful. "Terrifying. Your body's going through all these changes and you can't control them. Your mood changes abruptly. You're tired all the time. But the morning sickness has passed, thank god." She paused. "When I saw her in the monitor though...none of that mattered. I just hope she has Liam's eyes. Silly, right?"

Emma shook her head. She could imagine a child with the Jones brothers' pretty blue eyes. "I'm sure she'll be perfect."

Abruptly, Molly hugged her. Emma was a little taken aback and hugged back. "I've never had a sister," Molly said softly. "But I always wanted one."

Emma smiled. "We'll see what we can do about that." They finished cleaning up and headed for the living room, where Killian and Liam were arguing about football again. Emma rolled her eyes, wandering over to the tree. There was a huge pile of presents there now. She couldn't quite believe this was real; she was used to quiet holidays with Ingrid and her sisters, before that lonely Christmases where she wondered why her parents gave her up. But her mom was here, along with her boyfriend and his family, all of whom seemed to accept her.

"Are you okay, honey?" Ingrid asked.

Emma nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You looked far away."

"Just thinking. We're a long way from home."

Ingrid touched her arm. "I don't know. I think home is pretty near at hand, don't you?" She glanced meaningfully at Killian, who was far too handsome in his button down shirt and vest.

"Maybe home is a lot of different places," Emma mused. "Boston's still home."

"You'll always be welcome, Emma. We're family. But your family is allowed to expand."

Emma hugged her mom. "I love you, Mom," she said, swallowing around the lump in her throat.

"I love you, too, dearest Emma."

"We ready for presents?" Liam asked, throwing his brother an irritated scowl.

Emma nodded. "Yeah, I think so." She moved to settle on the couch next to Killian while Ingrid played Santa Claus. She passed out presents of all sizes before tearing into one for herself. Emma ripped at the colorful paper; the box was heavier than she expected. Killian watched her carefully as she lifted off the lid. "Oh my gosh."

Killian scratched behind his ear. "Do you like it?"

She carefully took the fine leather briefcase out of the box, turning it over in her hands. It had her name engraved on a plate near the handle and two combination locks. She flipped it open, fingers brushing the smooth lining. "It's amazing. Thank you." She snapped it closed and turned to kiss him.

"You're welcome, lass."

"Open yours!" Killian laughed as he tore into his present; Emma waited on pins and needles until she saw his eyes light up. He handled the leatherbound sketchbook with care; it was thick, soft black leather, secured with a lock. There was a tiny key that went with it.

"It's lovely," he said. "Thank you, love."

"There's more to it. Mom?" Ingrid handed her another package, which she put in Killian's hands. He was even less patient with this one, ripped paper falling to the floor. It was new set of chalks, charcoals and paints, very high quality. His own things were battered from use, not that he cared.

"Emma..."

She smiled nervously. "You like it?"

"Very much." He kissed her, nibbling on her pouting lower lip, ignoring their audience. "Thank you."

Emma smiled, fingers twisting the hair at his nape. "The lock is for us. So you can draw whatever you want," she whispered.

He remembered her dream from the night before, where he'd been painting her in an erotic pose. She had all of his sketches of her, but this was an incredible level of trust. "I love you so much," he mumbled into her ear.

"I know." She kissed him briefly one last time before turning back to see the others' presents. Liam got Killian a Manchester United scarf and two tickets to their last match of the year at Old Trafford. Emma glad they would spend some time together doing something they enjoyed. Molly got Emma and Ingrid passes for a local spa; the three of them would have a spa day while the boys were away. Molly cried a little when she saw the sketch Killian had done for the baby's room.

"That big thing there is from both of us," Killian said to his brother.

Liam ripped off the paper, revealing a happy colorful mobile. It was Peter Pan themed with little Jolly Rogers mingling with Tinkerbell, Peter and the Darlings. "It's fantastic," Liam said, also a bit choked up. "Thank you, brother. Emma." Molly insisted on hugging them both as Ingrid fished for more presents.

"Oh, I found another one for you, Emma!"

Emma frowned and accepted the gift. It was a long thin box. Killian got nervous once more as she tore it open. Inside lay a gorgeous silver bracelet with a heart pendant. "Killian?" It looked expensive, far more expensive than any other jewelry she owned.

"Guilty, lass. May I?"

Emma nodded. "Sure." She handed him the box and held out her right wrist. Killian slipped the bracelet on, securing it. "It's beautiful."

"Merry Christmas, my love."

"Merry Christmas, Killian." She smiled and kissed him, happier than she could remember being for a long time.

Much later, after watching more Christmas films, the Queen's speech and eating the amazing meal Molly and Ingrid made, Emma and Killian begged off, pleading tiredness. They knew they weren't fooling anyone but everyone pretended. Killian brought his new sketchbook and supplies, but they lay forgotten on the bed as they kissed.

"Good Christmas, sweetheart?" Killian murmured, coaxing her to the bed.

"Yeah. You?"

"The best." He pulled her on top of him, content to just kiss and touch her away from prying eyes. "I do have one more gift though."

"Another one? Killian, you don't..."

"Well, it's really for both of us. Indulge me?"

She huffed. "Fine." She waited while he went to the closet and pulled out another box. This one wasn't wrapped; she lifted the lid and her eyes flew wide. "'Love Is Art'?"

"I thought we could try it," he said, suddenly unsure.

"What, like body paint and stuff?"

"That's the general idea. Do you hate it?"

"No! It's just..." She looked at the box, turning it over in her hands. "What would we do with our art?"

"Well, we could hang it in our bedroom. No one would know but us. Or if was really eclectic we could hang in it in a more public space and let people wonder who the artist was." He grinned. "How does that sound?"

Emma wet her lips. It was definitely intriguing. She loved their erotic art escapades. "You've wanted to do this for a while, haven't you?"

"It had crossed my mind a few times. You would be a most excellent canvas, lass."

She flushed. "Do I get to play too?"

"It's only fair. In fact," he said, kissing her lips, "it's highly encouraged."

Emma cupped his cheeks and kissed him more firmly. "Then you've got yourself a date."