A/N: Thank you for liking, reviewing, and commenting on this story! I'm so sorry for the wait, this chapter was a pain to edit but I'm mostly satisfied with the outcome. We are getting close to the big reveal, another chapter after this if everything goes as planned. Thank you for reading, and enjoy just in time for Thanksgiving!
(November)
Emma and Killian revert back to their old pattern following the week of their carpool, but it is clear things have shifted between them.
The easy banter and effortless conversations continue to flow, but with a current of vulnerability underlying their interactions. They begin texting one another throughout the day, no longer content for an hour's worth of interaction weekday mornings. Each day they share a new part of themselves and Emma realizes Killian is slowly tearing down the walls she's constructed around her heart. It should frighten her and provoke the instinctual urge to run, but instead, she is finding herself desiring it, wanting the intimacy and vulnerability. She trusts Killian, and though initially it was scary for her to admit it, she's finding the realization easier to accept.
As the month continues, Emma's previous uncertainty about Killian getting too close to Henry dissipates as well. Killian asks about Henry, and Henry asks about Killian, and she takes it all in stride. The two have become 'pals' according to the both of them. When discussing Killian, Henry's face erupts in joy and delight as expected with someone so young and impressionable, yet she's thrown when seeing that same joy and delight mirrored in Killian when discussing Henry.
Unsurprising to either Emma or Killian, the now undeniable attraction between them still resonates though they don't talk about it, instead, they choose to let it grow quietly, hidden behind harmless yet honest flirting. Signs of affection and hand holding become more frequent, soft touches become lingering touches, and quick glances become lingering gazes.
Still, Emma is resolute in her conviction they are simply 'good friends.' Killian doesn't push or try and persuade her otherwise, simply content for whatever form of closeness she allows. Friends can be platonically affectionate – (even if she fervently tries to deny the sensation of butterflies at the slightest touch from him, or that he's building a treasure cove of memories in his head for safe keeping).
The one thing off the table is kissing - in any form. Killian knows how he feels about Emma; a kiss wouldn't prove his feelings to either of them. For Emma, succumbing to the desire to kiss him would mean breaking that final barrier of just friends. As strong as the temptation is, she's not willing to risk losing this unexpected friendship that has come to mean more than she ever imagined it could.
-/-
Before Emma realizes it, Thanksgiving is upon them. Without hesitation, she asks Killian about his plans in hopes he will join Henry and her in the annual Friendsgiving celebration David and Mary Margaret host every year.
"I know you aren't American, but you can't live in America and not experience a proper Thanksgiving celebration complete with food disasters, football, and the Macy's parade."
"I'm honored, Swan. However I do not want to be an imposition." Killian says, suddenly interested in the texture of the carpet, his ears turning an adorable shade of pink.
"You wouldn't be, that's why we call it Friendsgiving. Bring Robin along too, Henry is dying to see him again."
They sit facing each other at the table in the alcove, Emma leaning slightly forward in her chair. She's close enough if she wanted to, she could reach out and run her fingers through his dark hair. Instead, she settles for placing a hand on his forearm, gently squeezing his arm in reassurance – (while internally trying to ignore the feel of his muscles beneath his shirt).
Killian suddenly shifts his gaze back to her, a reproachable look on his face, and Emma freezes at the thought she's upset or misread him somehow.
"Robin is a royal git. He cheated at that Pac Man game to get in Henry's good graces, make no mistake about it." Killian clenches his jaw in a show of petulance and Emma erupts in a fit of laughter, her fear of having upset him extinguished before it can fully bloom.
"Oh relax, you are still Henry's favorite. Robin just rounds out the bases. Plus, you're a crappy Pac Man player." This time, she doesn't hesitate to run her fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck. If he asks, she can make the excuse of soothing his wounded ego. He doesn't have to know she's secretly wondered how soft his hair is – (as imagined, very soft and smooth).
Killian makes a grunting noise, sticking his nose up in indignation as if he's caught wind of a foul odor. "We'll have a rematch after the Thanksgiving break, and then I'll show you and the lad who the better Pac Man player is."
"Whatever you say Jones," Emma says with a beatific smile. "Now, what about Thanksgiving?" She moves to pull her hand away from the back of his neck when Killian catches her hand in his own, entwining their fingers.
"Alright I'll come, and I will even bring Robin if you are sure we will not be an imposition. Is there anything we may be able to contribute?" He rests their joined hands upon his lap, delight and gratefulness coloring his eyes at her unexpected invitation – (and the warm sensation of her fingers laced through his).
"Just yourselves," she answers with a smile, squeezing their entwined hands in delight.
-/-
The morning of Thanksgiving is chaotic as usual in the Nolan household, twice over now there is a newborn. The turkey hasn't completely defrosted from the night before, baby Leo refuses to be out of his mother's arms, and one of the stovetop burners decided to crap out.
Emma is pouring herself a second glass of wine – (it may only be eleven in the morning, but she's experiencing second hand stress from watching Mary Margaret and Elsa fuss about the kitchen) - when the doorbell rings. Her stomach flips upside down in a fit of nervous butterflies and she silently curses at the sensation.
"Ooh time to meet Emma's mystery man!" Ruby shouts from her place on the couch next to Victor.
"Emma, you have a mystery man? That's so cute!" Elsa's younger sister, Anna, politely expresses while she attempts to chop walnuts at the kitchen counter.
"He's not a mystery man, he's…" Emma exhales, rolling her eyes before continuing, "He's a really good friend. So please, just be nice?"
"We are nice," Kristoff, Anna's husband, mumbles from his place on the floor by the couch, mouth full of cheese and crackers. Some snack refuse spills out of his mouth to which Sven, their spotted Great Dane, happily laps up.
Emma entwines her hands in a prayer position before gracefully flailing her hands about in a gesturing plea. "Yeah I know that, I just meant don't… you know… don't do what you all normally do… don't interrogate him."
"We do not interrogate!" August barks out in humorous umbrage from his place on the floor next to Kristoff, eyes affixed to the television. It is Thanksgiving tradition to "believe" the guys actually understand the football game playing out on the screen.
"Yeah offense! That's personally offended! Offended? Offensive? Offensive," Ruby tipsily decides, loudly mumbling in agreement.
Emma turns away from her friends and makes her way to the door; mentally kicking herself for thinking this would be a good idea. She knows her friends are only teasing and will welcome Killian and Robin with open arms - even David, who is resolute in his surrogate-big-brother-overprotective role.
Still, this is a big step. She hasn't brought a man to meet her friends since Walsh, and even though she and Killian are merely friends, him meeting everyone means he's essentially meeting her family.
Killian knows about her history with David and Mary Margaret; she talks about them often enough. He knows she met them freshman year in college, a year after Henry was born. David and Mary Margaret were the first people who hadn't judged her or her situation; instead they simply loved on her and Henry unconditionally, not out of pity. With Mary Margaret came her high school best friend, Ruby, and it was sophomore year when they all met and befriended Elsa, a junior transfer student. David met August freshman year as they'd been assigned dorm roommates. Becoming fast friends, the duo decided to rent an apartment sophomore year whereby they met Victor, another roommate who quickly became part of the gang.
Today shouldn't be as monumental an occasion as she's making it, but Emma can't help feeling nervous. She wants her friends to like Killian, and she wants Killian to like them in return.
Taking one final deep breath, Emma turns the knob and opens the door.
Instead of the butterflies being settled at the sight of him, they instantly kick up a notch as she stares, taking in his appearance. He's smiling fondly at her, blue eyes accentuated by the darkness of his jeans and the charcoal gray of his fisherman sweater with a shawl collar.
Killian stands, unmoving and unaware of Emma's staring, happily losing himself in her beauty. Her blonde tresses are braided with whisping bangs framing her face, a red basket weave sweater with a boatneck collar making her green eyes shine.
A few beats of silence pass – (noticeable to everyone but them) – before Robin clears his throat from behind Killian and gives the prince a helpful poke in the back, bringing him back to awareness.
"Hello there, Swan." Killian's voice is a sultry whisper and it's enough for Emma to realize she's been staring.
Shaking off the embarrassed flush she feels creeping across her cheeks, Emma collects herself and takes a step back to let the men inside. "Hey, glad you both could come. I'm truly sorry about this…"
Killian's brow lifts in curiosity but before he can ask, the question dies on his lips as a very exuberant brunette bull rushes him in an assaulting hug.
"Killian!" Ruby squeals loudly from behind his head. Killian's eyes widen in surprise before lightly wrapping his arms around the gregarious brunette, his gaze locked with Emma's in a bemused smile.
Her arms wrapped around him in a bone-crushing hug, Ruby's eyes fall upon an amused Robin standing by the door. Releasing her hold on Killian, she swiftly moves to engulf Robin in a similar bear-clenching hug. Robin takes it all in stride and softly chuckles as he returns Ruby's welcoming embrace.
"Okay, Ruby let them breathe a moment, would you?" Emma says, placing her hand in the crook of Killian's arm and giving him a gentle squeeze in apology for the over exuberant welcome. He simply smiles at her tenderly, blue eyes crinkling in delight.
Emma makes a round of introductions, an easy task considering the small size of the cozy apartment. She tries to protest as Killian and Robin offer David and Mary Margaret the wine and stout beer they brought for the occasion, but she refrains upon seeing her friends' delighted faces. After several handshakes from the men, warm hugs from the girls, and a few pointed looks of assessment from August and David, everyone disperses back to their positions in the kitchen and living room.
Robin joins the men in the living room and partakes in the conversation about the football game, while Killian offers his assistance in the kitchen. Mary Margaret declines his offer, insisting he simply relax and enjoy his first experience of the American holiday. Emma produces a beer for him and barely joins him in a seat at the counter when Henry comes bursting downstairs.
"Killian!"
"Henry!"
Killian stands and meets Henry halfway, bending down to scoop him up and twirl him around in the air, lifting him upside down before planting him on his feet.
Killian proceeds to prompt Henry with questions as Emma watches with fondness from where she sits at the island bar. At the soft clearing of a throat, she turns in her seat to face Mary Margaret.
The pixie bob cut mom arches her brow in a teasing question – he does well with Henry huh? Emma simply shrugs in response and takes a small sip of wine as Killian and Henry race upstairs to play video games. She knows her ever-present smile isn't lost on Mary Margaret (or herself).
-/-
Dinner is filled with easy conversation and praise to Mary Margaret for pulling off another amazing meal. As expected, her friends ask Killian and Robin all sorts of probing questions about Denmark, about how Killian met Emma, but both men take the inquisition in stride and respond happily. To Emma's astonishment, David doesn't ask to many interrogative questions and Ruby keeps the sexual innuendos to a minimum. There's even a lively debate between the merits of European football versus the U.S.'s version of the sport, and which teams are this year's prospective champions. Henry eventually gets bored with the grown up talk and leaves the table to play video games upstairs, taking Sven with him – a silent cue to Mary Margaret to hurry up with dispensing the desserts.
Dessert and coffee are served around the living room when Mary Margaret, ever the reverent hostess, decides to bring out the board games. August, the freelance writer, votes to play scrabble but the rest of the group quickly vetoes him. Elsa and Anna vote to play charades while David votes for a round of poker. Once it is put to a final vote, charades wins out and teams are chosen. It's no surprise to Emma when Mary Margaret pairs her up with Killian.
Halfway through the second round of charades, Killian notices Emma's cup of hot cocoa is empty and offers to refill it. Emma accepts and gets up from her seat to accompany him to the kitchen, only stopping to inform Elsa to play their turn for them.
"Quite a rowdy bunch for a holiday, huh? Hope we haven't traumatized you and Robin too horribly."
"Not at all, Swan. It's been a lovely evening." Killian says through a smile as he passes Emma her refilled cocoa mug and pours himself a cup.
"You're too polite to say otherwise." She takes a sip from her mug, sea green eyes teasing as she gazes into his cerulean blue depths in silent challenge.
Killian shakes his head but takes a step forward in response, effectively eliminating the distance between them, not once breaking her penetrating gaze. Emma's breath hitches in her throat as he reaches out to wrap his hand around hers, brushing her knuckles lightly with his thumb.
For the first time in the evening they're alone, but before they can take advantage of it, a loud "YES!" erupts from the living room, breaking the moment. They both spring apart from each other as the noise from the living room begins to penetrate the little bubble they've created.
"David that's cheating!"
"Unbelievable!"
"I'm due for a refill, anyone else need one?"
Emma clears her throat and throws a thumb over her shoulder, "You want to step outside onto the porch? David and Mary Margaret have a fire pit…"
"Aye, sounds lovely, Swan." He takes Emma's mug in hand and follows her lead to the back porch.
Closing the sliding glass door behind her and turning her attention to the fire pit, Emma misses the wink Mary Margaret shares with Elsa, the delightful squeals of Anna, David's overprotective frown, and Victor's drunken attempt to join them that is happily thwarted by a scheming Ruby.
Emma and Killian silently work in tandem to get the fire pit blazing, all while studiously avoiding eye contact in the dim light of the porch and living room. The only sound is the chirping of insects and the muffled sound of their friends as another round of charades begins.
Her heart racing, Emma dusts off the residual soot from the wood and ash on her jeans and turns to face him.
He looks unnaturally real. The firelight turns his features sharper, the slight redness to his bearded scruff is gone and his eyes sparkle like dancing crystals.
"So…" She laughs softly, trying to cover up the awkward utterance of her voice.
"So…" Killian laughs sheepishly in return, scratching nervously behind his ear.
For a minute, the pair is lost as to what to say or how to act toward the other – Emma, afraid to reveal her conflicting feelings, and Killian afraid to spook her by revealing his.
Recognizing Emma's vulnerability and wanting to share a bit about himself as thanks for including him in her family traditions, Killian breaks the unusual silence between them.
"Thank you for inviting me and Robin to join in your family festivities, Swan. I cannot tell you what it means to me." He briefly casts his eyes downward, not wanting the sadness of past scars to consume him in this happy moment. "It has been much too long since I have experienced any sort of… family dinner, much less a family holiday. Ever since my mother died when I was a lad, we simply stopped celebrating holidays."
Emma reaches out and places her hand on his forearm from where they stand side by side, leaning against the porch rail, the fire roaring contently in the background, mugs of cocoa long forgotten.
"What happened to her?" She asks cautiously, curiously.
"Cancer… ovarian." Killian exhales and extends his arms, bracing himself away from the porch railing, his head tilted down, gaze fixed upon his boots.
"Killian, I…"
"She always wanted a little girl, overrun by the two of us 'brawling boys' as she would say, but the cancer never gave her the chance. My brother, Liam, he and I never doubted our mother's love and for all mum's jesting she would tumble around with us, playing football or cricket in the yard right along side us. She had many duties in her… position, but she always put us first. Always."
Emma smiles tenderly, attempting to swallow down the growing tightness in her throat that is itching her nose and threatening tears. "She sounds amazing, Killian."
He nods his head appreciatively at the honesty of her words, a genuine but somber smile coloring his face, "Aye, she was amazing." He pauses and straightens his posture in an attempt to lift his mood and regain some self-possession. An untroubled smile lifts the corners of his mouth in a shy smile, as he turns to look her in the eye, "Reminds me of you, the way you are with Henry, always putting him first."
Emma turns her head away, tilting her chin abashedly. "Yeah well, I'm just doing the best I can, hoping I don't damage him too horribly with my parenting skills."
Killian knows she's attempting to laugh the compliment off but he refuses to let her, not when it is the absolute truth. He's aware there is much about Emma he doesn't yet know, but he knows enough to discern when she erects walls to prevent herself from being overly vulnerable.
"I'm serious Emma, you are a wonderful mother." Though his tone is adamant he is not forceful, merely determined for her to see the beautiful truth about herself.
Turning back to him, Emma blinks in response, frazzled he thinks so highly of her, believes in her. If only he knew the truth - he may judge her, look at her with pity, use her history against her, or simply stop being her friend. The last person she was so forthcoming with was Walsh, and he used her revelation as a way to have power in their relationship, to build up his already over inflated ego, frequently hinting he had "rescued" her.
Yet now, as she stares into Killian's yearning blue eyes glistening in the firelight, takes in his obdurate but soft expression, she decides to take a chance and push past her fears.
Gathering her courage, Emma feels Killian's hand cover hers, feels the gentle caress of his thumb across her knuckles in silent encouragement, steadying her. He nods his head slightly, a soft encouraging smile breaking across his serious canvas, and Emma lets herself go.
"I almost wasn't a mother… and I'm still learning how to be one. I never had parents." Her breath hitches and the tears she'd been rigorously fighting back at hearing his story begin flowing down her cheeks. "I grew up an orphan, shipped around from foster home to foster home. You know I had Henry at nineteen, but you don't know I almost gave him up too."
Killian quirks his brow up in confusion, but continues to silently caress her knuckles with his thumb. He doesn't want her to think for even a second that he would be affronted at hearing her life's story.
Encouraged by his constant touch, Emma scrapes at her tears with her free hand and continues, "Neal and I, we weren't exactly Jim Dear and Darling if that makes sense." She breathes out a soft laugh and Killian's lips quirk up in a small grin at her reference. "We were living on the run, no steady jobs, no place to call home except for the Bug. We stole at any given moment to survive and canvassed motels in wait of a vacated room so we could shower and clean before housekeeping arrived. It was… not an ideal situation for a child." Emma grits her teeth and shakes her head at the troubling memory. "So, when I learned I was pregnant, I thought for a moment it would be our start, you know? Our child would be a new beginning for us."
Killian unconsciously angles his head in apprehension, not for fear of what she will say next, but rather cold comprehension of where her story is headed. He knew Henry's father abandoned Emma, but he assumed the father was unaware of the pregnancy. Furious, he laces his fingers with Emma's and holds tight as her next words confirm his suspicions.
"I was so drunk in my own happiness at being pregnant, I didn't read the signs. When I told Neal… in retrospect, he was more jittery and alert out of fear rather than happiness at the news." Emma pauses and closes her eyes, composing herself to get through the memory. "Anyway, he mentioned an old job he'd done pilfering watches. He said if we were to recover the watches from where they were stashed at the train station, we could make enough cash to move and start fresh. I was so in love with him, so excited at the prospect of being a family that I jumped at the opportunity. I volunteered to collect the watches since he was already a suspect in the original crime, but I never thought…"
Her voice breaks at the memory, and she allows the years of suppressed anger and hurt at what Neal did to Henry - abandoning him before he was ever born - to expose her raw. "To save his own skin, Neal called in a tip and I was arrested, a full two months pregnant with our baby, with Henry…"
Killian doesn't let her finish. He pulls her in, locking his arms firmly around her as she fiercely embraces him in return. He feels the vibrations of her sobs as they rack through her body, but he only holds her tighter, breathing in her scent and sharing his body warmth, silent tears spilling from his eyes at the pain she's experienced and the depth of her sheer will to endure.
Sniffling, Emma pulls back and pushes away from him slightly, both hands gripping his biceps in an effort to keep standing upright. "That's not even the worst of it. I gave birth to Henry in a prison hospital and up until the moment I decided to hold him in my arms, I had been prepared to give him up for adoption."
Killian doesn't flinch; he grips her forearms and squeezes gently, holding her steady. Though the action is subtle, it is meant as a silent reaffirmation he will not push and will not leave.
Shaking her head vigorously, Emma releases her stance and takes another step back from him. Voice trembling in near hysterics she asks, "What kind of mother does that? To almost abandon her child and then choose to raise him with the knowledge that his mother was once a thief? Henry knows what little he can understand about how I grew up, and why I was in prison, but he doesn't know the truth about his father and I never plan on telling him." A hiccup escapes her throat and she once again brushes a hand over her cascading tears.
Taking a moment to collect herself, she whispers the question once more, "What kind of mother am I?"
Before responding, Killian takes a small step forward and hesitantly, lovingly, glides his index finger up and across her cheek to wipe away a fallen tear.
"The kind whose love for her child is greater than the love for herself. That elusive, unconditional, selfless kind of love - the only kind of love there is. You chose for Henry to have his absolute best, to have his highest good, that's what makes you a damn good mother."
Emma closes her eyes and involuntarily shutters at his words.
Killian takes another step forward, and with every ounce of conviction he has, gently cups her face in the palms of his hands and places a chaste, yet lingering kiss to her forehead.
He feels her expel a warm breath at his actions and he immediately worries he's overstepped his bounds – (never wanting to disrespect her, he's always followed her pacing and boundaries). Before he can step back and apologize, Emma wraps her arms around his waist, pulls him into a tight embrace, and buries her nose in the crook of his neck.
They stay enveloped together in silence, save for the sounds of their sniffling and the crackling of the fire. After a few minutes, they step back to compose themselves, each offering the other a shy smile as they wipe away remaining tear stains and dab at runny noses.
"I don't mean to upset you Emma, but I think we make quite the team."
She laughs aloud mirthfully and the sound alone is music to his ears. "Yeah, I guess we do. Quite a pair of lost boys huh?"
"Perhaps once… but maybe not anymore."
Before Emma can digest his words or the look of his tenderly ardent face, there's a knock at the sliding glass door. They each jump at the noise, ruffled at the disturbance, but make their way over to Robin whose sliding the door open.
"Apologies, I don't wish to disturb, but we best call it an evening mate. Thank you Emma, for inviting us to join your holiday tradition. It was a grand affair."
Emma chuckles as she always does at Robin's formality. "Of course, thank you guys for coming."
They each make their way inside to find the rest of Emma's friends getting ready to depart. There is a round of goodbyes, handshakes and hugs, and leftovers graciously saddled with everyone at Mary Margaret's insistence.
Emma looks upon a sleeping Henry who is curled up on the couch and using Sven as a body pillow when Killian offers to help carry him to her vehicle. Happy to accept the offer, the trio and Robin make their way downstairs. Killian straps a sleeping Henry into a seatbelt while Robin loads the bag of leftovers and Emma starts the Bug.
"Alright there milady, you are set. Drive safely." Robin teasingly bows before Emma and she chuckles once again at his antics, not knowing the truth behind them. He departs with a nod toward Killian, informing he'll get their vehicle started and warmed up.
Killian makes his way around the Bug toward the driver's side where Emma sits with the door closed but window rolled down. Placing his hands atop the vehicle's roof, he leans forward and meets her gaze. "Thank you love, for this evening. Not only for allowing us to partake in the festivities, but for afterword." He pauses and steps back, hands now resting on the doorframe as he leans in through the window, his gaze cast slightly down. "Thank you for listening. It's been some time since I've spoken of my family and it… well it was overdue."
"Killian, I…"
His eyes meet hers once more and shrugging her shoulders, she smiles, "Thank you for listening to my sad story. You know I don't share much of myself with others, my life isn't exactly a fairytale, but it's my past, and truthfully? I'm sick of living in the past, no matter how much the future terrifies me."
Emma is resolute in both tone and words, but they both know underneath her brave exterior, lies a lifetime of insecurity and fear that will not be extinguished by one cathartic moment. Still, she's offering to brave through her trepidations, and Killian can only hope to brave through his own fears in return.
"Aye love, of that I most certainly agree."
He smiles and dips his head in a bow before taking a few steps back. Emma offers him a smile as she rolls the window up and moves the car into gear, waving her hand in goodbye as she drives away.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Killian turns and walks toward his vehicle all while doing his best to staunch down the guilt at letting another opportune moment to share his secret pass by.