The Twelve Sweaters of Christmas

CS Genre: AU

Killian Jones neatly folded what felt like the one-hundredth sweater today, and stacked it on top of the pile. He prided himself on running a clean, neat, ship-shape establishment, and he hated when his clothing went askew.

Of course, given the fact that it was twelve days before Christmas, keeping things neat and tidy was a constant battle.

Killian never would have believed he'd find himself here. He'd had a promising career in front of him. He'd joined the Navy fresh out of high school, determined to follow in his older brother Liam's footsteps. Liam had been his hero, he'd been brother and father and best friend to him after their mother died and their father abandoned them.

If only he hadn't had to be a hero to everyone else. When Killian was seventeen, Liam had perished at sea after a terrible storm. He'd sacrificed his own life, saving seven of his crewmates before finally succumbing to the ocean's fury.

After several months of aching grief, Killian had decided to live a life to make his brother proud. He'd decided to go into the Navy himself. He'd been a natural, taking to the water like a merman, never more content, never feeling closer to Liam than when he was out on the water. Things were looking up.

Unfortunately, tragedies rarely come on their own. When it rains it pours, and all that. Two years into his naval career, Killian got into a catastrophic automobile accident. Not only had he lost his love, his Milah, he'd also lost his hand.

And so he'd found himself alone, his promising career down the drain and with no idea what he was to do with his life.

Killian took a deep breath as he picked up yet another sweater to fold. Such dark thoughts had no place on this beautiful, snowy day, less than a fortnight before Christmas. Suffice it to say, after spiralling for a time, Killian had picked himself up and started on a new venture:

Revenge

He'd come across the clothing store quite by accident. He'd been passing through the small, sea-side village of Storybrooke, Maine one day, and just happened to step into the store. It was intriguing; had something of an edgy, pirate theme to it. It was run by an eccentric man named Edward Teach, who went by the moniker "Blackbeard", no doubt due to the bushy mass of facial hair he sported.

Something about the store spoke to him, excited him in a way nothing had in months. Perhaps he could run an establishment such as this, combine a theme he was passionate about with goods people needed, and voila! The perfect business venture.

He hadn't been in the store ten minutes before he'd made a promise to himself: Revenge is going to be mine.

It almost felt like fate the way everything worked out after that. As it happened, "Blackbeard" was looking to retire. Within a month, Killian had used the last of his inheritance from Liam to purchase Revenge and make it his own.

Nearly ten years later it was still going strong. He'd even managed to expand, turn it from something thoroughly niche into something more mainstream-while still maintaining it's edge and it's roots.

Revenge was Killian's baby, and he was incredibly proud of it, and never more so than at Christmas. He prided himself on having everything the discerning Storybrooke customer could want for their holiday clothing needs.

The bell over the door sounded, and Killian looked up to see an angel with soft waves of sun-gold hair, tight jeans and a red leather jacket walking purposely toward him.

More like stomping toward him. The way her green eyes glittered dangerously as she approached proved that she was quite the angry angel.

She was utterly magnificent.

"Lost a bet," she said curtly. "Point me in the direction of your ugliest Christmas sweaters."

Emma Swan should have known better than to make a bet against Ruby, particularly about something outrageous, and if there was anything Ruby's clothing choice today was, it was outrageous.

Emma liked Christmas-within reason. Who didn't like time off and peace on earth and all the holiday goodies you could eat?

But there was nothing reasonable about the sweater Ruby had chosen to wear for her shift at the diner this morning.

Emma groaned as her roommate sashayed out of her bedroom into the shared living room of their apartment..

"Ruby, it's too early for this," she groused. "You look like Christmas threw all over you."

Ruby poured herself a mug of coffee, and then sat opposite Emma on the couch. "Hey don't knock it. Everybody loves a good ugly Christmas sweater."

"More like loves to hate it," Emma muttered.

A sudden gleam came into Ruby's eye. That really should have been Emma's first clue to turn and run. Nothing good ever came of Ruby looking at her like that.

"Wanna make a friendly wager on that?" Ruby asked.

"A wager on how many people will hate your clothing choices?"

Ruby rolled her eyes. "The opposite. I bet you I get more compliments today wearing this sweater than I'd get on any other day."

"How would we even quantify that?" Emma asked. "You usually keep count of the compliments you get?"

"Fine," Ruby conceded. "How about this: Come into Granny's on your lunch break and sit in my section. I bet you I get a genuine compliment on my sweater during your meal-totally unprompted too."

Emma considered it. "What are the stakes?"

Ruby thought for a minute and then smiled. It was not a reassuring sight. "You win, and I clean the apartment for a month. But if I win….if I win, you have to wear an 'ugly' Christmas sweater every day until Christmas."

Emma didn't even take a moment to consider it. Getting out of cleaning for an entire month? So worth this bet, and it wasn't like she was going to lose anyway.

"You're on."

Later that day when Emma and her partner, Sheriff Graham Humbert, stopped by the diner for lunch, they hadn't been seated for five minutes before Emma realized she'd made a profound mistake.

"Hey guys!" Ruby smiled at them as she reached their table and pulled out her pencil and pad of paper. "How's your day going? It's been crazy around here this morning!"

"Pretty quiet at the sheriff's station," Graham said, smiling as he looked her over. "That's quite a sweater you're wearing today, Ruby. Very festive; I like it!"

Emma groaned as Ruby shot her a triumphant look. Rookie mistake. She should have known better than to bring Graham with her to lunch. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that Graham had been more than half in love with Ruby for years. She should have brought someone like Leroy to lunch. She doubted that man had ever complimented anyone in his life.

But Emma was a woman of her word. She'd lost the bet fair and square, and pay up she would.

Which is why she currently found herself talking to the owner and proprietor of Revenge.

"Lost a bet," she said curtly. "Point me in the direction of your ugliest Christmas sweaters."

The man behind the desk-Killian, his name tag said-grinned at her. "Love, I'd wager the term ugly could never be applied to you no matter what you wear or don't wear."

Emma rolled her eyes. The guy was hot, she'd give him that-with his artfully messy black hair, piercing blue eyes and reddish scruff. And all the leather. It really should be illegal for a man to wear that much leather and to wear it so well. Still, Emma was in no mood for being hit on-handsome man or no.

"You're hilarious," she said dead pan. "Now about those sweaters…"

He grinned again and then winked. Actually winked. "Hilarious?" he asked, stepping around the corner and gesturing for her to follow him. "I prefer dashing rapscallion, scoundrel."

Her stomach did not swoop at the way he almost growled that last word. It didn't!

The fact that she was totally lying to herself annoyed her more than every aspect of this ridiculous bet. "How about you be 'shop owner who does his job and points the customer in the right direction'? Think you could manage that?"

The rest of Emma's shopping experience went without a hitch. She grabbed the plainest Christmas sweater she could find-a simple powder blue v-neck covered tastefully with snowflakes.

Maybe Ruby would take pity on her and call her bet paid off if she wore this thing.

Probably not, but one never knew. It was the season of miracles, after all.

The next morning, Killian opened the store as usual, taking a moment to be sure everything was ship-shape before unlocking the doors and turning the sign in the window to read "open". He glanced over at his "ugly Christmas sweater" display and smiled wistfully to himself.

He'd spent a fair amount of the evening thinking about her, Emma Swan, her credit card had proclaimed. She was beautiful, aye, but there was more to it than that. Though their interaction had scarcely lasted a quarter of an hour, though their conversation had been relegated to Christmas sweaters and the bet that had forced her to purchase one, he had the strangest sense that they were the same deep down, that they were kindred souls.

He was utterly captivated by her.

Killian sighed as he turned on the cash register and checked his supply of cash in preparation for what would likely be another busy day. It was the first time he'd had any meaningful glimmer of interest in a woman since Milah's death, and he was surprised at how nervous it had made him to interact with her. For probably the thousandth time since yesterday afternoon he mentally kicked himself for not getting her number.

A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets. Liam had told him that five hundred times if he'd told him once.

Well, there was no sense dwelling on it now. Emma Swan had walked out of his life when she walked out of his store, and there was no changing that.

Or so he thought.

Not a quarter of an hour after opening his doors, who should arrive, charging forth in all her wrathful glory than the lovely Miss Swan herself?

Killian grinned at her teasingly. "Back again, love? Couldn't resist my dashing self, is it?"

She rolled her eyes. "You wish."

He did. He really, really did.

"Well, Swan, what can I help you with this lovely morning?" he asked.

She looked surprised. "You remember my name?"

Killian chuckled and scratched behind his ear. "I never forget a face, and yours, love, is exceptionally beautiful."

"Not your love," she said, but Killian took note of the way her cheeks reddened at the simple endearment. "Anyway, I'm not here to flirt. I'm here for another sweater."

"Another Christmas sweater?"

"Yeah," she said with a sigh. "Apparently that blue one with the snowflakes I bought yesterday won't fulfill my bet. Ruby told me it barely even fit the category. Got anything uglier for me?"

"You, darling are in luck," Killian said. "Revenge just so happens to stock some of the ugliest ugly Christmas sweaters in the state."

Today, after a fair bit more banter and pleasant small talk, she'd decided on a red, woolen zip-up cardigan. Featured prominently on the sweater were several applique snowmen playing musical instruments. It was...it was quite something.

"This is actually kind of perfect," Emma said, trying it on and looking herself up and down in the floor length mirrored column next to the sweater display. "Definitely fits the category, plus it's a cardigan. I can take it off after I've shown Ruby I actually wore it. I'll just say I'm too hot or something."

He grinned teasingly at her and wiggled his eyebrows in an exaggerated manner. "You certainly are, love."

She laughed at that before removing the sweater and setting it on the counter to be rung up. "Do those exaggerated lines actually work on anyone?"

"You'd be surprised," he answered. "At any rate, they seem to have served their purpose today. You seem to be leaving my establishment in better spirits than you entered it."

She smiled. "I guess I am. Thanks, Killian."

He inclined his head. "A lady in distress needs my assistance, and her wish is my command."

She laughed again. "Alright, well I have to get to work."

He rang her up and wished her a good day. Just before she stepped out the door, he called out to her again. She turned toward him.

"Any chance I might see you again?" he asked, feeling like a tongue-tied young lad with the lass he fancied.

"With Ruby being the way she is," Emma said, "probably a really good chance I'll be back."

And so she had. She returned the next day, settling on a sweater bearing the visage of The Grinch, the day after, choosing one that depicted all twelve gifts from the famous song, the one after that in her own, colorful words, looked like Christmas exploded in woolen form.

Each day their conversations lasted longer, and each day he fell a little bit more for the lovely Miss Swan. He came to look forward to her visits every day with eager anticipation, mentally thanking whatever brilliant soul invented the "ugly Christmas sweater".

On the fifth day, Killian managed to unearth a gem of such glittering ugliness and ostentation, he felt the need to pat himself on the back.

"Yep, that's certainly a disaster," Emma said grinning at the garment covered in a large Christmas tree, filled with ornaments and a banner along the bottom that read MERRY CHRISTMAS! In huge letters.

"Oh, but love, you haven't even seen the best part," Killian announced. "This particular sweater comes with a battery pack."

She shot him a disbelieving look. "I'm almost afraid to ask, but what exactly does the battery pack do."

Instead of answering, he turned the device on. LED lights flashed in every tiny ornament on the sweater, and the MERRY CHRISTMAS! nearly had a strobe light effect.

Emma groaned before dissolving into laughter. "This is it. This is the ugly Christmas sweater of all ugly Christmas sweaters. If this doesn't satisfy Ruby, I admit defeat."

Killian watched her go that day with more than a little melancholy. What if that was the sweater that would do the trick? What if she didn't return again?

He needn't have worried. Emma Swan showed up at his door bright and early the next morning.

His heart leapt at the sight of her. He'd fallen hard and fast for this woman, and he saw no likelihood that would change any time soon.

"What? Even the monstrosity with the flickering lights didn't satisfy the demanding Miss Lucas?" Killian asked by way of greeting.

Emma laughed. "Oh it did," Emma assured. "I think I actually managed to render her speechless with that one. It's just...well my bet was for a different sweater every day until Christmas, and I'm a woman of my word."

And for that he was profoundly grateful.

So it continued. Each day she came in, each day she bought a sweater, and each day he fell a little bit more in love with her.

When Christmas Eve arrived, Killian noticed a change in Emma's demeanor almost instantly. She looked...uncomfortable.

"Is something the matter Love?" he asked, brow furrowed.

"No," she said, drawing out the syllable, "It's just..well...I'm here to ask you out."

Killian choked on the sip of coffee he'd just injudiciously taken. "Pardon?"

"Okay, first I have a little confession to make," Emma said. "Remember that ridiculous sweater with the battery pack around day five or six?"

"Aye," he said carefully.

"Well, after I wore that, Ruby actually released me from my bet," she said, looking bashful. "She told me I'd fulfilled the spirit of it or something like that."

Killian felt the smile creeping over his face. "And yet you continued coming in and making your purchases every day. Whatever for, darling?"

She tried to look stern. "Look, don't make a bigger deal of it than it is, but, I don't know. I kind of enjoyed our daily shopping sessions and conversations and all of that."

His smile grew. "You enjoy my company!"

"Don't let it go to that over-inflated ego of yours."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he said, making a cross-my-heart motion over his chest. "And for the record, I have greatly enjoyed our little...retail dalliances...quite a bit as well. Now what was that about asking me out?"

She suddenly looked bashful again. "So the sheriff's department is throwing this Christmas bash and ugly sweater contest tonight, and I was hoping maybe you'd...I mean, I know it's Christmas Eve, and people want to spend it with family, and I totally get it if you're not interested or it's not your thing or whatever, and don't feel obligated, but I just thought-"

Killian leaned across the counter and kissed her. "Swan, I would like nothing better than to accompany you to your party. Just tell me when and where."

Ruby watched Emma walk into the diner hand in hand with Killian Jones later that evening. She smiled broadly, reaching over to slap Graham's arm as he sat beside her.

"Ow!" Graham groused. "What was that for?"

"Look!" Ruby said. "It worked! I told you it would work!"

Graham obediently followed her directions and then grinned. "I can't believe you talked me into helping you rig that bet just to play matchmaker!"

"I told you!" she said again. "Didn't I tell you? I knew Killian would be perfect for Emma. She just needed a little push."

"That she did," Graham said with a laugh. "Remind me to never doubt you again."

They watched for a moment as Emma looped her arms around Killian's neck and the two began swaying gently to the music that was playing.

Who would have known that an ugly Christmas sweater would lead to what was sure to become a romance for the ages?