The Thanksgiving Dinner

CS genre: future fic

Killian shivered as he walked along the sidewalk that led to the house he shared with his wife, Emma Swan-Jones. A pleasant thrill shot through him at the thought. Emma was his wife! Against all odds, against death itself, they'd prevailed, and they'd finally been given the chance to embark on their future together.

The past few months had been difficult, to say the least, but the happiness he now enjoyed with his true love and her son in their house by the sea made every last moment of the agony worth it.

The cold, late autumn breeze picked up, scattering fallen leaves and chilling Killian to the bone. He took the stairs to his home two at a time, wondering idly if they were in for a snowstorm. He hoped so. Perhaps he could engage in a snowball fight with the lad. Perhaps he and Swan and Henry could build a snowman. Killian let himself daydream about a day spent with his family in the snow—not to mention the ways he and Swan could find to warm each other up after the lad went off to bed.

In fact…speaking of more enjoyable activities…the lad was staying with his other mother tonight, perhaps he and Swan should take advantage of the alone time. Smile draping his lips, Killian opened the door, prepared to call out an enthusiastic "Hello, love!"

But the greeting died on his lips.

No sooner had he pulled the front door open than his ears were assaulted with a piercing, pulsating shriek, and thick, black smoke slapped him in the face. Faintly, underneath the shrill noise, he detected the sound of crying. Emma crying.

Sprinting forward, his heart in his throat, he made for the kitchen. "Swan!" he shouted fearing the scene he might find.

He found her sitting at the kitchen table, her head in her hands, crying as though her heart were breaking. A sauce pan sat on the stove, smoking merrily away, apparently causing the device Swan had called a "smoke detector" to protest vigorously. As Swan didn't appear to be in any immediate danger, Killian jogged to the stove, turned off the burner, and threw the offending pan into the sink, dousing it's charred, lumpy contents with water.

Immediate crisis over (and alarm finally blessedly silent) Killian returned to his disconsolate wife. Kneeling before her, he put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Emma, love, what's the matter?"

She raised a red, tear-stained face toward him, and then fell into his arms, the tears continuing. He held her for long moments, rubbing her back, whispering comforting nothings into her ear, brushing kisses against her hair, the top of her head. Finally, the worst of her emotion seemed to pass, and she pulled back, scrubbed at her face and then resumed her seat.

"Killian, I can't do this! It's an utter disaster!" she said, vaguely gesturing toward their kitchen.

"What is it you can't do love," he asked, taking a seat beside her and putting his arm around her shoulders.

Emma sighed deeply and then leaned her head against his shoulder. "This. Cook."

Killian chuckled softly. "Not to put too fine a point on it, love, but you never could cook. Beyond the realm of breakfast provisions, you are hopeless, darling. Your lad and I have taken to learning the culinary arts out of sheer self-preservation."

Emma sat up and glared at him, crossing her arms with a huff. After a moment, she wilted, dropping her eyes to the table before them. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

She looked so sad, so dejected that Killian leaned over and kissed her tenderly, slowly. Her arms wound around him as she returned the embrace, seeming to take strength from their intimacy.

Finally, he pulled back, looking into her red-rimmed eyes. "What is this truly about, my love? Your proficiency in this particular domestic art has never before been an issue that affected your happiness."

"It's just…" she said, getting up to pace, "I invited everyone over for Thanksgiving tomorrow. The whole crazy family. I told them I would make the Turkey and stuffing, the whole nine yards."

Killian vaguely recalled people throughout the town referring to an autumn holiday called Thanksgiving. From what he'd gleaned from various conversations, the holiday consisted of eating gluttonous amounts of food and then viewing a sporting event called "football".

Emma gestured toward the blackened pot in the sink. "I have to make the whole dinner, and I can't even figure out how to make mashed potatoes!"

"Potatoes?" Killian asked as he poked at the congealed mess with his hook. "Is that what these once were? It would seem you didn't add enough water when you set about to boil them."

"I needed to add water?"

Killian shot her an incredulous look. "Aye…boiling requires liquid, love."

The tears started flowing again. "I don't even know how to boil potatoes. I'm so screwed."

Killian took her into his arms once more, rocking her gently. "Again, what is this really about, love? If it were merely a matter of preparing a meal, I've no doubt your mother would be thrilled to assist you."

Emma pulled back enough to look at him. "It's just…it's Thanksgiving, you know? I wanted to make this holiday perfect. I wanted to…I don't know…try to make it up to everyone for the damage I caused when I was the Dark One. Say thank you for standing by me. That kind of thing."

Killian smiled tenderly and reached up to catch a tear with his thumb. "None blame you, Emma. None hold it against you. I more than any know what you're going through; the guilt and shame. I did far worse than you under the curse. But you've put all to rights; you've nothing left to atone for."

She tossed him a watery smile. "It's been quite a year, hasn't it?"

He barked out a laugh. "Truer words were never spoken."

Emma dropped back into her chair at the table and sighed again. "Regardless, we still have a whole freaking Thanksgiving dinner to host. What are we going to do?"

"We deal with it as we deal with everything, my love," Killian said, sitting beside her, "together. You're no longer alone; you'll never be alone again. Henry and I would be honored to help you prepare this special repast."

Emma leaned forward and kissed him slow and deep. "Thank you. What would I do without you?"

"Certainly not any edible cooking," he said with a quirk of his brow.

Emma hit him playfully. He captured her hand and brought it to his lips, pleased to see the smile blooming once again on her lovely face.

"Killian, there was one more reason I was hoping this holiday would be perfect," she said, looking at him shyly from beneath her long lashes.

"Aye, love? What's that?"

"This is your first Thanksgiving, and I wanted to make it special because…"

"Because why?"

Emma abruptly got to her feet and darted toward the powder room off the kitchen. A moment later she returned holding a small, white wand of sorts. "Because, well, I have news, and I was planning to share it after everyone went home on Thanksgiving, but I guess now's as good a time as any."

Killian took the device she held out to him, peering in confusion at the tiny display showing two pink lines. Was this supposed to be meaningful to him? "My apologies love. I'm afraid I don't understand…"

Emma took his hand and looked into his eyes. "This is a special test, Killian. One that can tell me…what's going on in my body. Those two lines there? They mean I'm pregnant."

It took him a moment to catch up to what she'd said, but when he did his heart stuttered and then began racing. "You're with child? I'm to be a father?"

She nodded, her lower lip between her teeth. "Yeah. I just found out today. We're going to have a baby!"

Killian whooped then took her into his arms, swinging her around as she laughed and the tears flowed once more. Finally he put her down and kissed her as he felt the tears prick his own eyes. A father! He was going to be a father! It was something for which he'd never allowed himself to hope.

"I hope this means you're happy," Emma said.

"Happy! Emma, nothing on this earth could bring me more joy."

She smiled beatifically. "I hoped you'd react like that. But, I mean, we hadn't really talked about kids yet, and I didn't know how you felt, and…I don't know."

He chuckled. "Why do you think I selected such a large house, love? Of course I want to have a family with you. What better way to overcome our painful pasts than to share our love with a family of our own?"

As Killian and Emma celebrated their happy news and began planning for their upcoming Thanksgiving dinner, Killian couldn't keep the smile off his lips. Though he'd never before heard of the custom, he very much looked forward to this holiday called Thanksgiving. With a wife he loved beyond all reason, a teenage son he adored, an entire family to care for and now a tiny son or daughter on the way, he had more blessings than he could count in three lifetimes.

There was much for which to be thankful.

Notes:

-Happy Thanksgiving (or rather the day after) to my readers from the U.S.! I'm currently in a house overflowing with parents and brothers and sisters and nieces and nephews (and a couple of dogs, a turtle and a handful of fish) and I love it.

-I don't know why, but I've always had the headcanon that Emma can't cook—except for breakfast. Why she thought it would be a good idea to tackle the super bowl of cooking—Thanksgiving dinner—I don't know, but hopefully with Killian's and Henry's help she'll provide a meal fit for her royal family.

-Also…in preparation for the episode that I'm sure will be PAIN this weekend, I thought I should give you as much CS fluffy happiness as possible—thus the baby on the way. In general, just about everything I've written lately involves a CS baby on the way. (For those who might be concerned that Emma being so upset about burnt potatoes was OOC, I did take that into account. I figure early pregnancy hormones are strong enough to take down even the strongest of women!)

-Up next: ? I'm not really sure. We'll see where the muse leads me. I'm contemplating writing a "deleted scene" about Killian and Henry conspiring to start "Operation Light Swan", but I'm not sure…I've read other people's take on that "missing" scene and I don't want to accidentally plagiarize. I guess what comes next will just be a surprise!