Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or Once Upon A Time, they belong to Adam Horowitz and Eddy Kitsis. Nor do I own the sorority/fraternity houses names referred to in here, they belong to ABC Greek's creators whose name I am too lazy to look up right now.

Notes: i did say that maybe some day i'd play with these again, and this came to be because of a prompt given by a friend whose birthday is today mixed with another one involving tlb universe during christmas. So. Here it is. It was so fun to write these idiots for a little while.

Emma Swan loved her job. She really did. She got to meet amazingly talented people, travel the world, wear amazing clothes that she wouldn't even dream of ever owning and inspire others with what she did. She could live a hundred different lives, so different from hers - a fairy queen, a sheriff of a small town, a convicted mother, a cyborg, you named it, - and still be her at the end of the day, when the cameras were off and the makeup was removed and she could slip back into her own clothes.

Emma Swan loved her job very much indeed.

She hated photoshoots, though.

If someone had told her that posing for an entire day with her castmate - a Norwegian actress she got to work with for Mulan's project, Elsa, - would be so exhausting, she'd have come up with something in order to miss it. Which would have meant they'd just reschedule it until she could work her dates around until she did it, mind you, but as long as she got to whine as much as possible about it, she was good.

Alas, she had had to spend a cold December day holed up in a too-posh-to-function hotel, exchanging eyerolls with Elsa as they were given outfit after outfit, waiting while her companion was taken her solo portraits and trying to relax her facial muscles and not look like she was suffering from indigestion as they took hers. Thankfully most of them were of them together, and there were far more laughs as they tried to follow the director's orders for a shot than she'd have expected.

Nor did they miss the chance to joke between them about them wearing barely anything for some of them while they stood in some snowy landscape set behind them, icicles and snow decorating the set. It made total sense.

(It didn't - but having women overly-sexualized at every opportunity given was nothing new, huh.)

She had to watch her mouth in-between takes, though - there was a camera rolling through the entire thing, for what Emma suspected would be the behind the scenes making of whatever they'd post on the magazine website.

Needless to say, she was completely beat by the time she left the building, driving Elsa to her temporary apartment while she stayed in LA for press tour and the rest of the promo they had to go through before the release date of their movie. She waved her goodbye after promising to get together the next week for dinner with her sister Anna, who would be flying to attend the premiere, and drove straight home. She had tried calling Killian a couple of times during their lunch break and a moment she got afterwards, but had gotten nothing but radio silence from him all day. It was weird, considering he was constantly glued to his phone and texting her the most ridiculous pictures of baby animals wearing clothes or links for fake articles about them he'd find online.

(And yes, the sexting. That hadn't stopped. Idiot.)

(Even though, as he loved pointing out, she was the one who started it most of the time. Oops.)

She texted Henry to make sure he had gotten to Mary Margaret's okay, and when he answered and told her that Killian had dutifully dropped him there and he'd see her the next day, she frowned. If they had been together, why hadn't he answered her calls?

Leaving her key on the table beside the front door, she called out for him, and heard an answering call from the living room. She dragged her feet there, shrugging off her jacket, beanie and boots along the way, moaning in relief like some sort of zombie stripper as she approached her destination. The TV was on, but she paid it no mind as she staggered to the couch were Killian was, Nana sleeping peacefully on the floor at his side. He was stretched out on it, and she noticed belatedly with a snort his Kermit the Frog socks wiggling to some tune he was humming under his breath. As he took her in, he shifted to one side to make space for her. She blinked at the empty spot, and then at his chest and arms, which just looked so much more appealing in her mind. Especially after such a tiring day of being drawn on, fitted like some doll and flashed at endlessly.

She crawled on top of him, fitting her body neatly over his and giggling under her breath when he tilted his head back in mock exasperation, making some sort of half pained groan half muffled laugh as her entire weight was settled over him. No matter what, she found herself enveloped in his warmth as his arms went around her as if by reflex, and she buried her face in his neck.

"That bad, huh?"

She whimpered, nipping him lightly. "You have no idea."

She shook in tandem with him as he laughed softly. "I'm sure when you see the final product you won't be as grumpy about it."

"Tell that to the corset they made me wear," she mumbled grumpily, recalling with a wince how hard it had been to breathe in that thing. And to think women had to wear that everyday for so long.

His ears actually perked at that, and he craned his neck to look at her, eyes glinting playfully. "Why didn't you let me go with you again?"

She managed to roll her eyes. He was so predictable, it wasn't even funny. As if she'd ever let him show up at one of her photoshits, as they'd cleverly dubbed them. He'd just distract her, and if she was self-conscious about herself on a good day, she'd be a downright mess if he was there too.

"Because you have crap to do yourself. And you offered to pick up Henry from school and stay with him afterwards," she pointed out, poking at his side. He poked her back, even though his hand immediately started a maddeningly slow caress over her skin after he did.

"I can multitask, you know."

Emma bit back a snort. The last time he'd tried that it had almost gotten the kitchen burned. He'd promised not to try baking and watching the game at the same time.

She pulled back to cross her arms over his chest, peering down at him as she leaned her head on them. "Where were you, anyway? I tried calling for you but it went straight to voicemail."

The hand on her waist moved to scratch behind his ear nervously. Uh oh.

The tick.

"We were - ah - looking for something," he half-stammered, and she raised an eyebrow.

"What did you two do now?"

He tried for the charming, smooth smile, his fingers rubbing her skin soothingly. "Nothing, I just…"

She gave him a look, frowning. If he thought he was going to get away with it, he had a thing or two coming. "Jones. Spit it out."

She bit down the childish urge to cheer as his shoulders slumped when he sighed, tiredly rubbing his forehead. "It's almost Christmas," he finally admitted softly.

If it were possible, she became even more concerned.

"So?"

He gave her his customary what is going on through your head Swan please face. "So it's a customary tradition to give presents to the people you love?"

Oh. that.

"You don't need to get me a present," she said before she had any time to think of her answer. His entire body went still under hers, and she frowned for what felt like the hundredth time since she had gotten home.

His limbs relaxed minimally, and the corner of his mouth tipped upwards, giving her a lopsided grin. "Feeling confident, are we?"

She was about to ask him what the hell was he talking about when his earlier words came back to the front of her mind.

The people you love.

Look, it wasn't like she didn't know he loved her - they lived together for fuck's sake - and she loved him back. It was more like they didn't need to verbally acknowledge it, instead. Emma had always been prone to show her feelings by actions, and she had come to find that Killian, even if slightly better at voicing his own, wasn't that much better at it.

She was pretty sure that they were both reluctant to say the words because of that one time they were said, right at that same house, and under such extenuating circumstances. It wasn't like they preferred to pretend it hadn't happened, because God knew that would be plain silly - acknowledging the past or the heartbreak and pain they had gone through had just made them stronger, more willing to fight for what they knew they could have. What they did have.

So why the hell they felt like saying those three words would be like falling from some cliff into the unknown, she had no idea.

"I - I didn't…" she stammered lamely, but she didn't get to go very far, as he huffed a laugh and kissed her forehead warmly.

"You're ridiculous. Of course I'll get you a present."

Even if silently grateful for the save, she burrowed her nose in his chest, mumbling her words in his skin. "I told you I don't need…"

"I know I don't need to, but I want to."

Groaning loudly, she gave him an exasperated look because seriously. The guy was impossible. So she told him so.

"You're impossible."

He barked out a laugh. "Pot meet kettle."

(He had a point.)

(She poked his side again, relishing in his squeal.) (Ticklish idiot.)

Settling herself against his body, she put her arms over his neck, nosing his neck as they laid in silence, enjoying the quiet. After what felt like forever and she could feel sleep claim her, she murmured gently in his ear. "My present will be even better."

She saw him smile from the corner of her eye, big and goofy.

"Oh. I'm getting a present?" he asked, voice tender as it always was at night, in the darkness of their room.

"You bet your cute ass you are."

His hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb stroking her jaw leisurely, mapping every freckle, until it moved down to rest on her chest and finally settled over her heart. "But you give presents to the people you love."

She met his eyes, impossibly tender and blue, reading the question - the challenge in them. "So?"

He laughed, a quiet, yet unbelievably happy sound, and his arm almost crushed her to him as he brought her as close to him as he possibly could, and then she was laughing too, not really knowing if it was because she was so tired, because she had gone mad, or just because she loved him.

And Emma's love, as they had come to learn, wasn't something easy to earn. Some say she might have been a difficult person to love, yet Killian insisted on that not being true. He thought she was difficult to let be loved.

She didn't think she could love him more just for getting that. Getting her.

He kissed her, his hand not letting go of her as it moved to cup the back of her head, tangling in her hair. She muffled a laugh against his lips as she realized he kept humming something under his breath, and somehow in the back of her mind recognized it as Jingle Bell Rock. He captured her grin with his lips, and pulled back slightly only for her to hum right where he had left it, and he kept interrupting the melody with more light kisses until she started kissing him back, both of their voices trailing off.

"I love you," he murmured against her lips. Her lips curled into a smile even when he kept kissing her, brushing his lips over hers and every inch of her face he could reach. When he pulled back and cocked an eyebrow, staring questioningly at her, she rolled her eyes.

"Ugh, fine. Love you too."

His gaze shifted from her eyes to her lips, wonder etched to his features, and then he was kissing her again, languidly, like an endless caress becoming lazier and sweeter as time went by. He reached out with warm fingers to fix a curl that had fallen over her face, and she smiled at the tender gesture. He grinned back, sighing contentedly as she repositioned herself over him, breathing in his scent and silently thanking her lucky stars for that day, so long ago, when he spilled champagne all over her.

Weird, but true nevertheless.

"So. What are you getting me?" she murmured, already closing her eyes. He massaged the bare skin on her hips as he huffed under his breath in response.

"Why do you think we spent all evening out? You're a hard woman to please, Swan. I may have to ask for advice around, even though I'm sure Victor will probably suggest something like a sex toy or whatever, and August some book about birds because he's a nerd that way. I thought about asking Aurora, but then she'd give me an entire dress catalogue. Philip is almost as bad at presents as Jeff, who once got Grace a horror film when she was five by accident thinking it was a Nightmare Before Christmas remake..."

She hid a smile, and she could swear he kissed the top of her head. His hands traced soothing patterns on her back, and she fell asleep surrounded by warmth and the cadence of his voice in her ear, his heart beating against her cheek in a soft, steady lullaby.

(Weeks later, Christmas day)

"What were you even thinking?!"

Killian winced at her tone. "It was Henry's idea! We were at the mall and he insisted on getting a new leash for Nana because he bit hers so we went to the animal shop and we..."

Emma interrupted him, ignoring Nana's excited barking as she looked from one to the other as their voices got louder. "You asked advice for a present to a 11 year old?"

"Hey!"

She rolled her eyes. "Sorry kid but seriously, isn't Nana enough?"

Henry threw his arms over Nana protectively, and if she hadn't been so riled up she'd have found it adorable, and maybe even joined them, but she was too busy fighting with her idiot of a boyfriend. "Of course she is but he was the last one on the litter and look how cute he is!"

Emma's lips thinned as she considered the box she had just opened, where a tiny black cat, with brilliant blue eyes, looked up at her. Killian approached her cautiously, as if afraid she'd kick him or something. "Swan, come on. It isn't that bad."

Emma gave him a pained look, and why, why did it have to have blue eyes too? Didn't they know what those did to her? "What if he doesn't get along with Nana and they turn the house into a battlefield?"

"That's not going to happen," he promised her. He took her hand in his and urged her to sit on the floor, right in front of the poor thing. He bumped his shoulder with hers, jerking his chin in the cat's direction. "Come on, look at him. I saw your face when you opened that box."

(Of course she had melted as soon as they revealed what was inside but Jesus what was this guy doing to her, he couldn't just keep bringing home every stray animal he ran into.)

(A pair of feline blue eyes stared intently at her, and it meowed.) (It meowed at her.)

(She was a goner.)

"This is a horrible idea," she muttered as Killian picked it up in his hands and held it in front of his face, hiding behind him with a grin.

"I love you?"

(Of course Henry wanted to name him Figaro. Killian proposed Rajah. Emma decided on Berlioz.)