A/N: This is the last chapter before the epilogue. It will be short and sweet.

"It feels weird being here," Liam comments, pulling into the driveway of the large Nolan house—the house Emma grew up in. It has sloping, gabled roofs, large windows and beautiful brick walls surrounded by winter barren trees and a smattering of snow. It's ridiculously big, but also charming. They even decorated for Thanksgiving, unlike some people who just put up their Christmas decorations early. No, he can tell the Nolans go all out for all holidays. "You know, since I'm dating David's niece."

"Aye, try dating his daughter."

Liam lifts a brow at him. "I thought you two were only pretending to date to appease her family?"

Killian sighs dramatically at the reminder. "We are." He gets out of the car, carrying the apple pie he'd made as Liam grabs the wine.

"And how much longer do you think you can keep up the ruse?"

Killian ignores the question as they head down the walkway, greeting Kristoff, who's pumping air into an inflatable turkey on the front lawn.

"Hello, this is my brother, Liam. He's Elsa's date. Liam, this is Anna's husband, Kristoff."

The man seems grateful for the break as he pauses what seems to be a daunting task to shake Liam's hand. "Nice to finally meet you. The girls have told me all about you."

Liam raises a brow. "Good things, I hope?"

"Yes, of course."

Either the lasses lied to him, or Kristoff is being polite, because while Killian can admit his brother is overall a nice guy, he can be a self-righteous pain in the arse on occasion. Though he doubts Elsa has seen that side of him yet during the month they've been seeing each other.

After Halloween, Liam asked Emma for her cousin's number, which involved a whole lot of groveling on his part for Emma to cave. But Killian tries not to think about Halloween—or rather, the morning after Halloween—because then he'll just get sad and frustrated all over again. Their morning together in Emma's bed was incredible. Mind-blowing, really. Kissing her, tasting the tangy sweetness between her legs, feeling her walls wrapped around his cock. She…felt…like…heaven. He woke up next to her, admiring how beautiful she was and the next he knew, he was claiming her lips and pulling her body against his, craving her. All of her.

But then she bid him farewell with "See you at Thanksgiving," like what they'd shared together was meaningless. He thought being together strictly on the holidays was over and they could be together between holidays too, but she's barely spoken to him since then. Only to ask him to come over to her parents' house for Thanksgiving.

Killian takes a deep breath before knocking on the door, not knowing what to expect. The last time he saw her parents was at the wedding, and they weren't too happy with him.

"Liam!" Mary Margaret squeals with delight in her apron, throwing her hands up and pulling him in for a hug. "It's good to see you." It's not until they break apart when she even notices Killian's presence, and her smile fades a little. "Hello, Killian." Her voice is a hint more proper and a lot less excited. She obviously hasn't forgiven him for showing up to her son's wedding with Ruby, even though it was Emma's idea to bring other people, not his.

"Mrs. Nolan." Killian nods as he steps inside and hands her the pie.

"Thank you, but we're covered for dessert. Perhaps the neighbors can use it," she says before turning around and walking into the kitchen.

Elsa and Daisy come up to greet them.

"Happy Thanksgiving," Liam gives them a hug with a big grin on his face.

"Hey, Killian, what's up?" Leo high-fives him, Audrey coming up beside her husband. At least Emma's brother isn't mad at him and is still his friend.

"Hi, how's married life going?" he asks, engaging them in idle conversation as his eyes search the room for Emma. They tell him how they've been really trying to get to know one another more, since they got married so fast.

After they end the conversation, Killian goes to the kitchen, following the delicious food smells wafting through the air. David is cutting up vegetables as he looks up to see Killian, a frown forming on his face.

Killian gulps, the sight of Emma's father with a knife not settling the nerves in his stomach. "Hello, Mr. Nolan."

"Hello." He nods curtly. "Did you bring another date again?"

"No, sir. Just my brother. I was actually looking for Emma."

"She's probably upstairs."

Killian nods and offers a small smile before leaving the kitchen, letting out a sigh of relief. That could've gone a lot worse. He heads toward the staircase, the sound of the children's laughter following him, bouncing off the walls and giving him the courage to keep moving forward.

He spots Emma in the corridor and sucks in a deep breath, blowing it out theatrically before he makes his way to her. "Happy Thanksgiving, love."

"Happy Thanksgiving." If he were dripping with blood or had transformed into an enormous spider, then he might understand the look of terror in her eyes. "How have you been?" The obviously forced smile and pleasantries are only confirming what a terrible idea it had been to come.

"Good…busy. You?"

She nods. "Good. Also busy."

Killian scratches behind his ear, an awkward silence forming between them. "So, uh…are we just going to pretend like what happened didn't happen?"

"Killian, you know I didn't want you to leave, but Elsa was there..and she needed someone to talk to."

"That's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about you avoiding me for a whole month and only responding to my texts to ask what my favorite Thanksgiving dish is."

Her face clouds over with guilt and apology. "I'm sorry, I've just been working a lot. I've been out of town tracking down a fugitive I've been trying to catch for months and finally got a lead."

"And you didn't have time to send a simple text. Like 'how are you?' or 'how have you been?'"

Emma throws up her hands in defeat. "I'm sorry, Killian, okay? I'm not good at this whole relationship thing. That's probably why Neal found someone else."

Before he can tell her that wanker's an idiot, Emma spins around and heads down the hall, Killian following behind her. "Emma, wait…"

She goes into one of the bedrooms, which he's assuming was her childhood room.

Thankfully, she lets him in.

Her room looks like it belongs to a princess. Everything's pink and white and not quite what he expected Emma's childhood room to look like.

"When your mother said she wanted us home for Thanksgiving," he plops down on the bed, dropping his face into his hands, "what exactly did she say? Because she didn't seem very happy to see me."

"She said me," she replies quietly, closing the door and keeping her palm splayed across the white painted wood for a beat. "When I told her you'd be here too, she doubted you were coming."

"Well, um, I should go, shouldn't I?" He stands from the bed. "What am I doing here?"

"No." Emma scuttles across the room and catches his arm. "Stay. I want you here."

Killian twists around to look at her, searching for sincerity in her eyes. Before, she seemed guarded, closed off, like she didn't want him here, but now he can see the vulnerability in her eyes. Like she's at war with herself.

"Please," she adds in a whisper. Almost imploring. He wonders if she just wants him to stay so she doesn't have to hear about it from her family.

Nevertheless, he can feel the resolve weakening from his shoulders. Even if everyone else didn't want him here, all that matters is that she does. "Fine." He grimaces, dragging a hand through his hair and staring out of the window.

The last time he saw Emma, she'd made it clear she didn't want a real relationship, and apparently, nothing has changed since then.

? ﾟﾦﾃ?

Killian knew he should've left when he had the chance. Or maybe he never should've come in the first place. But he's coping with being ignored by Emma's parents. Standing next to her, resplendent in a tight-fitting sea-green dress that matches her eyes, with her long, blonde curls practically gleaming in the sunlight streaming into the house, Killian expects nothing more. In fact, he's using it to his advantage. Retreating to a corner to nurse a glass of spiked eggnog is suiting him just fine.

Emma and Elsa are setting the table when Aunt Ruby makes her appearance, arriving fashionably late as always. "Happy Thanksgiving!" She sing-songs, pulling off her jacket and throwing it on the edge of the sofa as she rushes over to give Elsa and Emma hugs, her date following behind her. "Meet my new friend, Warren."

"Wally," the man corrects.

"That's what I said."

Elsa forces out a laugh before shaking his hand. "Hi, I'm Elsa."

Emma smiles, holding out her own hand. "Emma."

"Pleasure to—" Wally cuts himself off when he sniffs the air. "Something smells great coming from the kitchen."

When Mary Margaret and David come out to greet Wally cheerfully, Killian's heart sinks. Even the stranger gets a more welcoming greeting than he did.

Emma tugs her aunt to the side as Wally chats with her parents. "You didn't invite Graham?"

"Oh, that?" Ruby laughs and shakes her head. "You know me. One holidate per customer."

Emma furrows her brows. "But you seemed so happy together."

"Short and sweet, honey." Ruby shrugs. "Everything ends eventually, so why sit around waiting for it to happen?"

? ﾟﾥﾧ?

When it's time to eat, everyone convenes in the dining room, where Emma's mother brings him up to speed on the proper decorum expected of him–as if he's completely uncivilized.

The dining room is impressive. A long table is set for fifteen, with an enormous plate of carved turkey taking center stage, surrounded by an assortment of dishes. To top it off, intricate flower-candle decorations interspersed the abundance of food, and each setting has a napkin folded into a swan. David had ordered Killian to fold them all; he was sure it was a form of passive-aggressive punishment.

Thankfully, he's seated next to Emma and of course, as far from Ruby as physically possible, which makes him roll his eyes, certain their seating arrangement was done purposely. Not that he cares—the only person he wants to sit next to is Emma. And at least he has that going for him.

Once everyone's in their chairs, they join hands and close their eyes, chanting the Lord's Prayer he's been told they do every Thanksgiving and Christmas. As Killian says the prayer he had memorized after Emma had mentioned this to him, it's nice to feel her hand in his, and he rubs his thumb over her warm, supple skin, which he can tell makes her melt into his touch.

When they're done, Killian feels the loss of Emma's hand as her father tells them to dig in. Killian scoops some sweet potatoes onto his plate before offering the dish to Emma.

She smiles, making a move to take it, but he spoons some potato onto her plate instead of handing the dish to her.

"Thank you," she says appreciatively as he passes it on to the other side of her and takes the proffered stuffing.

Things start off fine as they pass around the dishes and eat quietly, apart from the noises they make as they enjoy the food.

"So, Killian, will you be joining us for Christmas or are you planning on bringing someone else?" Mary Margaret asks out of left field.

"Mom, please," Emma groans through a mouth full of food, scowling at her mother.

Inhaling sharply, Killian decides the best course of action is to reach for his wineglass and say nothing. His main priority is to survive this day, not to start an argument. Which, all things considered, he thinks he's doing a pretty good job of.

But Emma's parents seem to get a kick out of egging him on.

"Please, what? Am I not allowed to defend my daughter?"

"It was my idea to bring other dates to the wedding. So just drop it, okay?" Emma demands, taking a big gulp of her wine.

Her parents eye her in confusion.

"Why would you do that?" Mary Margaret asks with furrowed brows. "We thought you two were happy together."

David glares at Killian. "What did you do to make my daughter upset?"

"He didn't do anything!" Emma exclaims.

"Well, clearly he did. Otherwise, you wouldn't have had to bring Graham to the wedding. He should've worked harder for the relationship, not squandered it away."

Emma rises from her chair, her nostrils flaring. "Killian and I were never in a real relationship!"

Mary Margaret gasps and everyone is staring at her in surprise and confusion, their mouths open. Well, everyone except for Liam and Elsa, who already knew. Emma's eyes meet Killian's as he gulps and sets down his napkin. She looks around the table as she continues. "Killian and I agreed to be each other's holidates so you all would stop judging me and giving me crap for being single."

"Emma—"

"I'm not finished," she snaps at her mother sharply. "Even when you thought I was in a relationship, you were still down my throat, begging me for grandbabies and wanting us to get married! Will I ever be able to please you, Mother? Huh? Even after I get married and have kids, what will be next? More kids? Bigger house? When will you ever stop pestering me?!"

Mary Margaret clutches her chest, aghast. "Excuse me?"

Emma looks at Killian again, her eyes glistening with tears as she extends her hand. He slips her palm in his and stands in front of her as she joins their hands together. "Killian, I'm sorry I dragged you through this. I'm sorry for everything, but most of all, I'm sorry for not being honest with you."

Killian swallows hard as he stares into her eyes, wondering what she means by that.

Honest about what?

"You were right. I have been avoiding you." She takes a deep breath as though she's about to pour out her entire soul to him. Maybe she is. "Because I was scared. But if it's any consolation, this whole month without you has been the worst month of my life. I missed you so much. And chocolate has been only mildly comforting since I had to eat it without you."

Killian chuckles a little, his heart clenching, knowing this month has been just as terrible for her as it's been for him.

"I thought I wanted a holidate…but the truth is…I just want you …for all holidays…and weekends. And weekdays too would be nice." A smile crosses her lips. "I'm in love with you, Killian."

He grins and releases her hands, completely relieved he can finally stop pretending and doesn't have to shove down his feelings anymore. He cups her cheeks in his hands and presses his forehead against hers. "I'm in love with you too." He captures her lips and pulls her into his arms, forgetting about everyone else around them. His heart is soaring and he's so glad he finally gets to be with her on more occasions than just the holidays. When he pulls away slightly, he murmurs against her lips. "That speech was cockamamie, by the way."

Emma laughs before pressing her lips to Killian's again, his hand caressing her cheek.

When they finally break apart, they look around them, her mother swooning and everyone else smiling. Even his brother seems to look at her admiringly.

"I'm so sorry for pressuring you," Mary Margaret says sincerely, standing and cupping Emma's cheeks in her hands. "I only wanted you to be happy."

"Me too, princess." David rises from his chair, placing a hand on her shoulder and they both squeeze her into a hug. Once they break apart, her father looks at Killian, apology written all over his face. "I'm sorry for the way we've treated you. We just didn't want to see Emma get hurt again."

Killian offers a small smile. "It's okay. I should've just been honest with Emma in the beginning and asked her out." He glances at Emma. "But she probably would've turned me down."

She shrugs. "Probably. But I was an idiot."

"You weren't an idiot. You were just protecting yourself." He looks at David and sticks out his hand. "Are we mates again?"

He eyes his hand at first, a blank expression on his face before he looks up at him, a big smile spreading across his face as he opens his arms. Killian sighs in relief when David pulls him into a hug.

"Aunt Rubes? Where are you going?" Emma asks, looking over toward the front door.

Killian turns around, seeing Ruby pulling on her red jacket. She turns around to answer her niece. "I want Graham for more than just the holidays too." She looks at her date with apology. "You can stay for dessert if you want." She flies out the door before her date can respond.

Mary Margaret offers him some pie, apologizing for her best friend. And apparently, she decided to serve Killian's apple pie after all. "Who else wants dessert?" she asks with a beaming smile, trying to ignore the fact Thanksgiving dinner didn't go exactly as planned.

He's downed almost two bottles of wine by the time they're all eating dessert and is glad he's in a blissfully tipsy state when Mary Margaret starts planning his and Emma's wedding; he's not sure which is worse—being ignored by her parents or the center of attention. And it's not that he's opposed to the idea of marrying her—he even finds himself chipping in with ideas and objections of the planned décor. He'd even joked about marriage after the finger incident on the Fourth when Emma was filling out his paperwork for him. "Wouldn't this be so much easier if we were married?" The question awarded him with an eye roll and drew an adorable blush in those porcelain cheeks.

"Come on, I think we've survived for long enough." Emma takes Killian's hand as soon as they've finished desserts and leads him towards the stairs.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," Killian comments as she drags him up the steps.

"Speak for yourself, it was a nightmare," she grumbles. "I'm really sorry about my parents," she apologizes once they reach her room.

He cups her cheeks in his hands and takes a moment to look at her, really look at her. He can tell she's irritated and flustered, and he pulls her into his arms to reassure her. "It's okay, love," he whispers into Emma's neck. "I knew what I was signing up for when I accepted your invitation," he adds softly, causing Emma to hug him back even tighter.

"Thank you for coming," she breathes, "and thank you for putting up with them. They were dreadful."

Killian pulls back and chuckles. "Well, according to your mother, they'll be my in-laws soon, so they're supposed to be dreadful," he teases with a smirk.

Emma rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but before he can apologize, she's grabbing the collar of his shirt and kissing him. Swiping her tongue against his, she tastes like red wine and strawberry cheesecake. He groans, pulling her into his arms.

"Don't worry, no one's asking you to drop a knee on Christmas," she breathes against his lips, resting her forehead against his, her eyes closed.

"What if I wanted to?" he asks with a playful smirk, tucking her hair behind her ear.

She opens her eyes, amusement dancing on her face. "Then the joke's on you."

He chuckles and frames her face in his hands, his thumb stroking her cheek. "So, does that mean you'll be my date for Christmas?"

She grins. "How about tomorrow?"

His heart soars and a big, goofy grin spreads across his lips. He'd never been so happy to hear those words before. "It's a date." He brings her lips back to his.