A/N: Thank you all for your kind comments and reviews! I'm having so much fun with this story and I'm glad others are enjoying it too. So this chapter update was supposed to be longer, but editing took a backseat to life so the big reveal will have to wait one more update. I'm sorry for keeping y'all waiting and I do plan on updating soon. In the meantime, hope you enjoy this holiday piece!
(December)
Emma awakes early despite her intention to sleep in. Having finished her last final of the semester the previous day, Henry visiting at Neal's, and Killian overseas, she should have taken advantage and continued sleeping. But it is only two weeks until Christmas and she needs to stop procrastinating and find a tree.
She and Henry had decorated the apartment sparingly throughout the month, with stockings, nutcrackers, garland and snowmen, but they still lacked the customary Christmas tree.
Emma was simplistic and she'd been content with the artificial, Charlie Brown sized tree she'd been using since Henry was born. But after being tipped over for the last time by Henry's rambunctious driving of Hot Wheels the previous year, the Charlie Brown tree had met its fate. Thus, it was time for a new tree. Perhaps something a bit larger, with frosted tips, and definitely something pre-lit, as she's never tangled with lighting a tree before.
Emma turns on her old stereo system and proceeds to make a cup of hot cocoa with cinnamon and marshmallows - (her breakfast for the day). As the dulcet but merry tones of Crosby fill the kitchen space, she leisurely dances around in her candy cane striped socks, wishing that Henry were home so he could happily dance alongside her.
Neal will not have Henry for Christmas, that had been firmly established, and she is ready to swing and jab should Neal ask, as he inevitably will. So while Henry may be away now, Emma takes comfort knowing she will be the one to have him home for the holiday, all hopped up on Christmas cookies and screaming with childlike glee as he opens presents.
Checking the Internet for price listings of the local Christmas tree markets proves more difficult than Emma anticipates. Two hours into the search and she doesn't find anything to her liking in her price range. She's beginning to consider chucking the whole plan and driving to the nearest Wal-Mart to buy yet another artificial Charlie Brown tree when her phone buzzes.
Enjoying your first day of break? KJ
Emma smiles into her hot cocoa with marshmallows. With Killian away overseas in Denmark, she wants to keep her mind from wandering to thoughts of him during the break - keep her heart from wandering to feelings she long since vowed to never feel again. Repeating her mantra of 'just friends' hasn't been working as well as it used to, no doubt because her feelings for him are becoming harder to ignore. Killian is her friend, simple as that, she can't allow herself to become something more to him or to feel anything more for him.
He is supposed to be in Denmark visiting family for the holidays, and since she can't afford long-distance minutes on her phone, she won't be talking to him until the start of the semester. There was always Skype, as he suggested, but Emma couldn't bring herself to agree. She didn't tell him, but it wasn't the juggling of different time zones that unnerved her. It was the prospect of talking to him everyday, even if through the computer, that made her feel anxious with feelings not appropriate for that of only friends. No, she resigned herself to accept the time apart and embrace it.
So what was he doing texting her?
Didn't you take the red-eye to Copenhagen yesterday? I shouldn't and can't be texting you... even if you are laid over in Paris. ES
The song on her old stereo system switches and damn if it isn't Nat King Cole's "Oh Christmas Tree." Screw it, she has to vent to somebody and Killian is evidently available. As she types out her response, she ignores the flutter in her stomach and the way her mind immediately pictures Killian's scruffy face and piercing gaze.
I know I promised Henry I would have a tree up and ready to decorate by the time he returned from Neal's, but I can't find anything! The trees are too small, too skinny, or not tall enough! And I haven't even planned how I'm going to manage hauling the damn tree in my Bug, let alone up the stairs to my apartment. I'm about to pack it in and head to Wal-Mart! ES
Venting session accomplished, Emma throws her phone down on the kitchen table and takes a sip from her second cup of cocoa. If this fruitless search continues, she is going to need to switch to coffee, or fuck it - wine.
Ah about that, made arrangements for tonight's red-eye instead. KJ
Emma frowns at her phone but before she can type a reply, she receives another message.
As for Christmas trees, I believe I can help with that. KJ
Don't know about that Jones, I'm quite picky. ES
Oh I'm well aware of how picky you are darling, but you'll have to trust me on this. Worked well once before did it not? KJ
Emma snorts at that. Trusting Killian all those months did work well indeed. If she hadn't allowed herself to trust him by accepting that first cup of coffee in the library, she wouldn't have him in her life as a friend. Killian wouldn't be someone who is getting under her skin, and not in the annoying sense, but in the she can't stop thinking about him when she's supposed to be sleeping sense.
Okay Jones, I'll bite. How can you help me in my Christmas tree debacle? ES
Just need you to open the door Swan, and tell me where I should place this evergreen. KJ
Emma drops her phone at the same time she hears a loud knock on her front door. He can't be serious?
"Hello Swan," Killian says gleefully once she's swung open the door in greeting.
For a minute all Emma can do is gape at him with her mouth open, pupils wide, eyebrows reaching her hairline. She finally stammers, "What… I mean what?" as she gestures to the pine-needled tree that appears to be swallowing Killian, as if the evergreen decided to absorb him as part of its essence.
"This? Well…" Killian keeps his eyes on Emma as he angles his head away from the spruce and flashes a crooked grin, "I knew how much you needed a Christmas tree for the lad and Kristoff mentioned at Thanksgiving his family's ranch caters to the local tree markets."
He makes to move but winces as a branch strikes him in the face and Emma can't stifle her laughter at the sight. "Right well, as amusing as this must be to you Swan, rest assured laughing at a good gesture is indeed bad form."
Emma laughs harder at his reprimand but steps back and swings the door open wide for him. As Killian steps through the threshold, huffing and puffing at the weight and awkward angle of the tree, she realizes this is the first time he is actually entering her apartment.
There had been occasions when Killian had come by her apartment and walked her to the front door, such as when she couldn't drive herself home from the bar - (passing that Shakespeare essay deserved celebratory tequila shots) - and when for three days straight they carpooled when her Bug was in the auto shop - (German engineering her ass). But even on those occasions he'd never actually entered her apartment, mostly due to her desire to maintain some boundaries, especially since he was slowly chipping away at her walls. So for a brief moment the alarm bells ring in her head, but she uncharacteristically ignores them and decides to delight in the moment.
"Where will it be Swan?" Emma blushes at the sound of his accent, somehow thicker from under the brush of the evergreen's branches.
She closes the front door and motions to the spot by the living room windows, next to the fireplace. "Just there will be fine."
Twenty minutes and one dash to his vehicle later, Killian places the Christmas tree in the stand and tests the various angles, beaming in delight as Emma confirms it's perfect.
Stepping away from the tree he goes to stand beside her. The evergreen stands seven feet tall with a plump and robust middle, with enough space from atop the tree to the ceiling for a star. Killian continues to beam with pride as he basks in the knowledge that he has met his Swan's Christmas tree specifications.
"It's beautiful Killian. How did you manage this?" Emma finally looks away from the tree to study her generous friend's face.
"Come Swan, I've been listening since Thanksgiving break about your worries of finding a new tree. I've also heard you fret about not wanting to disappoint Henry with yet another artificial, and may I say despicable tree. Really Swan, artificial Christmas trees? I'll never understand you Yanks."
Killian shakes his head in admonishment as Emma puffs her cheeks up in indignation. Sensing a retort coming he quickly continues, "I made a call to Kristoff and explained your tree situation. He was more than happy to help. His family's ranch had plenty of spruces to choose from."
Emma arches her brow at him in disbelief. "You picked the tree and chopped it down by yourself?"
Killian scratches behind his right ear, a gesture Emma now associates with him being nervous or weary. "Aye, well Kristoff did help, as did Robin. Took a good trek into the ranch's acreage but we managed with a snowmobile and sled. Then all it took was us hauling the evergreen and strapping it to the hood of my vehicle."
Emma can feel her face morphing into a picture of astonishment but she can't help it, her friend has done something amazingly kind and all for her. "You did all that, all this…because of me?"
"Don't be so hard on yourself love. I did it for you, to help calm your anxieties, which were rightly felt, Christmas trees are no small matter. I assure you it sounds a tedious process but it was indeed no trouble at all. It was rather quite fun to be honest." Killian smiles and bounces on the balls of his feet, his hands shoved in the front pockets of his jeans. "Plus, if it spares poor Henry an atrocious, and I do mean atrocious artificial tree, than my job is complete."
Emma shakes herself and returns her attention to the Christmas tree so as to hide the creeping blush quickly spreading across her cheeks for the man who is becoming more than just a friend. This small gesture, which is indeed no small matter, is more than anyone has ever done for her. "It's perfect Killian, thank you."
"You're most welcome Swan." He gives a short bow and flashes her a pearl white smile.
Killian knows he has taken a huge risk to their friendship with the gesture, what with Emma being skittish and fearful to trust, but he cares for her and wants her to have her heart's desire. But he doesn't want to push her or overstay his welcome. As he takes a step back to make his exit, he is stopped by Emma's hand on his arm.
"Would you like to stay for lunch?" she asks with a tentatively shy smile. A part of her reasons she shouldn't ask him to stay, but another part is overwhelmed by his generosity and thoughtfulness. The least she can do is feed him a decent meal before he departs. "I made a vat of chili yesterday to last the weekend if you're interested."
Killian's cerulean eyes light up his face and Emma's stomach tugs with nerves as she digests his rosy cheeks and rumpled hair, of which stray strands of pine needles have taken up residence.
"Sounds delightful, love."
Emma offers Killian a beer and sets about warming the pot of chili and together they chop the necessary vegetables to use for toppings. As they prep their lunch, they chat and swap stories of Christmas's past. Some stories are funny tales of his childhood - him and his brother Liam playing Ninja Santa. Other tales are more somber - her holidays in the foster system, hiding out in a closet with a flashlight and Dickens, understanding at far too young an age the story of Man's Ignorance and Want.
Halfway through their second round of beer, and after his second serving of chili, they move themselves to the couch to watch a movie.
"Swan, Die Hard is the ultimate Christmas movie! It's a tradition!"
"Guns and explosions are not Christmas! Now It's a Wonderful Life, though the title may be the most honest of a lie there ever was, that film is the ultimate Christmas movie."
"Settle for Jingle All the Way?"
"Schwarzenegger, really?"
Emma finally notices the clock halfway through their second movie pick – The Santa Clause. She tries to ignore the feeling of disappointment as she realizes Killian will need to be leaving soon else he miss his flight. But she also can't ignore her feelings of contentment sitting side by side on the couch with him, nestled under the fleece blanket, his arm draped ever so carefully across her shoulder. She pretended not to notice his position at first, but sometime during the first movie she nestled herself further into his side, allowing her head to rest comfortably on his chest, and feeling his fingers caress up and down her arm.
They were honest to God cuddling. Emma Swan didn't do cuddling, but she was cuddling with Killian Jones and reality was setting in.
She moves out of his embrace and stretches her arms in the air above her head, letting out a yawn. Killian startles a little, surprised by her movement and unsure if he has overstepped his bounds by holding her so affectionately, but as he sees the sleepy grin spread across her face his rapidly beating heart calms.
A quick glance at his wristwatch speaks a truth he wants desperately to ignore.
"I best be getting on. Robin will be waiting for me. Don't want to miss our flight and anger dear old Dad." Killian tries to play his comment off with a laugh as he stands, but one look at Emma signals she knows how difficult this trip will be for him, and he need not play it off with humor. Once again he marvels at how perceptive she is, even without knowing his complete truth.
"It will only be three weeks and then you'll be back state side. Don't let him get under your skin. You're smart and capable, and he should be proud." Emma joins him in standing and takes his hand in hers, squeezing his fingers for good measure.
"Aye lass, but Brennan Jones is a force to be reckoned with." Killian drops his gaze from hers and swallows. To say this trip will be difficult is an understatement. Although his father is ill, there is no stopping the verbal tirades that await him once he returns home. Shaking himself, he plasters on a grin and returns her gaze.
Emma knows this grin, the one he wears when he's trying to deflect, but she lets it slide as he continues, "At least I won't have to worry about you having a proper Christmas tree for yourself and the lad."
Emma huffs and squeezes his hand tighter. She wants to fight him on this, to make him realize he is worth so much more than the crap he's been spoon fed by his father. Although she never had a Dad, from the little she does understand about fathers, is the man who controls Killian's life certainly isn't meeting the definition of a 'loving' father.
But she knows nothing she can say will reach him. Their friendship, unique and strong despite the short time it has been, isn't enough to squash a lifetime of feeling inferior - of feeling like he will never measure up. She should know. As much as their friendship is bringing her happiness, and also simultaneously scaring the crap out of her, it hasn't been enough to completely snuff out her inner demons.
So instead of challenging him, Emma simply nods her head and walks him to the door.
"Thank you again Killian. Henry will love the tree. I'll be sure to send you a picture once we decorate it."
"Aye that would be lovely, lass. I'd love nothing more than to see it, but don't trouble yourself with the expense."
Emma shrugs her shoulders. The last three months she has been fighting with herself about what she and Killian are becoming, about what they are to each other. But now, standing toe to toe with him, her belly full and spirit warm, with the scent of pine in the air she can admit Killian has solidified a place deep within her heart as a best friend, maybe as something more if she would just allow herself the freedom to fully feel.
"Try and enjoy your trip Killian. I'll see you when you get back, and don't forget my post card."
Killian chuckles, "Aye Swan, I shan't forget your coveted post card from merry old Copenhagen." Of all the things she asked he bring her and Henry from his trip – (his way of finding a Christmas present for her without labeling it as such) – she had requested a simple post card. She would never cease to astound him.
Emma attempts to give him a withering glare but stops herself as she takes in his mischievous grin – this is his signature teasing grin, the one she prefers to the grin of self-deprecation and deflection.
And then she is throwing herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and clinging tightly to him in a fierce hug. It's barely a second before she feels the warmth of his arms wrap tightly around her waist in return, his head dipping into the side of her neck. Emma breaths deeply as she feels the softness of his leather jacket underneath her fingertips, feels the faint scruff of his beard on her cheek and smells the strong yet soft scent of pine on his neck.
"Goodbye Killian. Have a safe flight."
Killian caresses her soft blonde tresses and basks in her scent of cinnamon and cocoa. He can feel her curves as he presses himself tighter against her, clinging to her as if he will never get the chance to hold her like this again. He may very well never get the chance if everything he fears of this trip comes to fruition.
The thought brings about a realization. Although they have certainly embraced before, including lingering touches and teasing glances, they have never embraced as fiercely as this save for the night of Thanksgiving, when all they had was each other amongst the demons. However, unlike that night, this feels as if they are both afraid to leave the other, afraid of what lay ahead for them, but certain where they want to be is in each other's arms.
He is sure mere friends do not embrace with this much passion, but he doesn't want to over think it. Despite his own feelings, he has always followed Emma at her own pace, never pushing her, respecting her boundaries while gently prodding when appropriate. Tonight, it feels appropriate to prod just a little more.
With one last gentle squeeze he takes a step back from their embrace, cups her chin in his slightly trembling hand, and with a steely resolve kisses her sweetly and innocently on the cheek. If his lips lingered on her soft appled cheek for longer than a moment, well then he lingered.
"Goodbye, Emma. Have a Happy Christmas."
He turns away from her and forces himself to walk in a straight line down the hallway. Blood is pounding in his ears and his heart may pound itself right out of his chest. It takes all his strength and self-preservation not to turn around, wrap Emma in his arms, and kiss her senselessly. He silently curses himself for risking his precious friendship with her all because he gave into an impulse - an impulse to kiss his brilliant, beautiful, spirited friend.
But if Killian had turned around, he would have seen Emma standing rigidly still, her face colored with surprise and curiosity, as she slowly traces the ghost of his lips upon her cheek.