A/N: Reposted from last year (with the sequel coming out later this month) Inspired by the Pogues and Kirsty Macoll's 'Fairytale of New York'
Completely AU!
OUAT is not mine.
Fairytale of New York
It was ten o'clock Christmas Eve in The White Swan. Emma was clearing up tables as people staggered out into the bitter night air, and away from the bar that she'd called home ever since she'd moved to New York when she was twenty one. Now, seven years later, she was the boss, having taken over from the couple she had lodged with, Aurora and Philip, when they got married and decided to move away.
Emma sighed. It was only her working tonight, as she'd given her other two staff the night off so they could spend it with their families. Ruby and Graham had been grateful, and as Emma didn't have a family, it made the most sense. Her mom had been a runaway, who died while giving birth to her, and no one had any contact numbers for any other relations.
So Emma had grown up in the system in Boston, biding her time until her twenty first birthday when she left for New York, with no intention of going back. She had trawled the many 'For Rent' signs in the city, finding the apartments too expensive, until she came upon The White Swan. The name made her cringe, after all, her surname was Swan. However the signs outside advertising a room for rent, and a job as a bartender immediately piqued her interest, and she went straight inside to enquire.
Within the hour Emma had accommodation and was already working. She had previous bartending experience, so falling into the usual routine of serving customers and clearing tables came naturally.
Emma came out of her flashback and realised she'd been working on autopilot. It wasn't busy, the bar was a bit out of the way for the crowds that would be celebrating this evening. Her custom consisted of her regulars, who were scattered here and there, chatting amongst themselves. As long as the beer was flowing, they were a harmless bunch. And when someone did step out of line, Emma quickly showed them she wasn't a pushover.
The door opened, and a gust of air made its way into the bar, followed by a figure dressed entirely in black. He shut the door and turned around, giving Emma her first proper look at him. He certainly wasn't one of her regulars, she would remember a face like his. His eyes were bright blue eyes and outlined in kohl as they peered up at her from underneath his black windswept hair. Dark stubble covered his defined cheekbones, and he smirked at Emma as she stood transfixed.
He was dressed in a long leather coat, gloves and boots. His smile and stance gave him a cocky demeanour which immediately put Emma on edge. However, she didn't have a lot of time to prepare to face this newcomer, as he promptly sauntered over to the bar to order.
"A glass of rum please, lass," the stranger requested in an accent Emma placed as Irish.
Emma instantly reached for the bottle and poured a glass. He paid, and took a long sip. Unlike the other patrons, he stayed sat up at the bar while Emma continued to work.
He asked for another drink, and this time tried to start a conversation with her.
"So, what's a pretty lass like you working on Christmas Eve?" he inquired.
Emma gave her standard answer to questions from customers.
"I don't believe that's any of your business, sir," she retorted.
The stranger gave her an amused look.
"Was just trying to alleviate your boredom a little, love, there's no need to get defensive," the Irishman replied with mirth in his eyes.
Emma simply rolled her eyes. The man smirked.
"Forgive me, I appear to have forgotten my manners," the mysterious stranger extended a hand for Emma to shake, "Killian Jones, at your service. And your name is?"
Emma ignored the hand and continued working.
"Playing it that way are we?" Killian drawled, "Makes no difference to me," he gave Emma a long, burning look, "You know most men would find that silence off putting, but me, I love a challenge."
Emma tried desperately to keep her demeanour professional, and not to listen to her instincts, which were telling her to either smack the guy, or kiss him.
She chose to continue to ignore him, hoping he would stop trying to talk to her if she only acknowledged his drinks orders. Emma thought her plan had worked when she saw him move away from the bar in her peripheral vision. She ducked behind the bar to pick up a coin on the floor.
Suddenly, she heard an almighty crash. Emma popped her head up to see Killian standing near the bar's old piano, trying to look innocent, but just making himself look more guilty in the process.
"What happened, Jones?" Emma asked, biting back the laugh that threatened to spill out of her.
Killian gave her a withering look.
"As you can see, lass, I tried to open the piano lid, not realising how stiff it would be, and ended up dropping it in the process," he countered, "When was the last time it was used?"
Emma thought for a moment.
"I haven't ever seen it used in all the time I've worked here, and that's seven years," she replied, honestly.
Killian gave her a shocked look.
"No-one's played that beauty in seven years?" he confirmed disbelievingly. Emma nodded.
After a couple of seconds, Killian's startled expression melted to a smile.
"In which case, back to what I was attempting to do earlier," he said decisively.
He walked back over to the piano, considered it, and asked if any of the men would help him lift the lid. One man offered to help, and between the two of them, the ivory keys were soon exposed.
Emma found herself transfixed as Killian sat down at the bench and began to play the opening to 'Piano Man' by Billy Joel. When he started to sing, Emma felt herself go weak at the knees, no one should have a voice that sinful and sexy.
As he reached the chorus, the other patrons began to join in, gravitating towards the piano as if they were magnets to metal. Emma couldn't help but giggle, the sight of the seemingly sober Killian playing and singing surrounded by drunk men pretending they were rock stars was just too much.
By the time the song ended, she had even joined in herself, albeit quietly. Unfortunately for her, Killian noticed, and called her out on it.
"So, will our lovely barmaid serenade us with a tune?" he asked cheekily.
The customers instantly began a chant of "Emma, Emma!"
Emma shook her head.
"I'm working, there will no-one to serve if I sing," she deflected easily.
Killian narrowed his eyes.
"How about when you close?" he inquired, "Will you sing to me then?"
Emma was a little taken aback by his suggestion.
"I-I don't know," she stuttered, quickly scurrying back behind the bar.
Killian watched her go, and started a new song, this time 'Bennie and the Jets' by Elton John.
Emma watched as everyone mucked up the lyrics and rolled her eyes. It seemed like the scene 27 Dresses was based on fact, no one actually knew the words.
A couple more songs passed, and Emma ignored the piano, in favour of beginning the shutdown procedure for the bar, as she liked to be out just after midnight on Christmas Eve. Soon enough, it was time for last orders, and Emma began escorting the men off the premises as they finished their drinks, until only one remained.
Killian still sat at the piano, nursing his fifth glass of rum, looking rather forlorn as his fingers seemed to gently travel over the keys of their own accord. His cocky personality had faded, and Emma guessed that this was the man that lay underneath all that bravado. Emma finished cleaning the bar and sat down on the bench beside him.
"In answer to your earlier questions, my name is Emma Swan. I offered to work Christmas Eve because I have no family, because I'm an orphan. So now you know," she admitted quietly.
Killian looked at her with wide blue eyes that locked onto her green ones.
"I could tell you had been left behind by someone, you had that look in your eyes," he softly remarked.
Emma smiled shyly at him.
"I believe I owe you a song," she surprised herself by saying.
Killian also looked a little amazed that she had actually agreed to his impulsive request.
"What would you like to sing?" he asked.
"How about a festive duet?" she offered, "Do you know 'Fairytale of New York'?"
Killian grinned.
"How appropriate!" he observed and began to play and sing the opening notes.
It was Christmas Eve, babe, in the drunk tank
An old man said to me: won't see another one
And then they sang a song, the rare old mountain dew
I turned my face away and dreamed about you
Got on a lucky one, came in eighteen to one
I´ve got a feeling, this year´s for me and you
So happy Christmas, I love you baby
I can see a better time, where all our dreams come true.
The music picked up and Emma began swaying as her part began.
They got cars big as bars
They got rivers of gold
But the wind goes right through you
It´s no place for the old
When you first took my hand on a cold Christmas Eve
You promised me Broadway was waiting for me
You were handsome
Killian raised his eyebrow, but dutifully sang the response.
You were pretty, Queen of New York City
Emma joined in and stood up so she could look down at Killian while he played and they sang.
When the band finished playing they yelled out for more
Sinatra was swinging, all the drunks they were singing
We kissed on a corner then danced through the night.
And the boys from the NYPD choir were singing Galway Bay
And the bells were ringing out for Christmas day.
During the short instrumental, Emma did a little dance, giggling all the while. Killian joined in with her laughter as she began the insult portion of the lyrics.
You´re a bum, you´re a punk
You´re an old slut on junk
Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed
You scumbag you maggot
You cheap lousy faggot
Happy Christmas your arse I pray god it´s our last.
And the boys of the NYPD choir's still singing Galway Bay
And the bells were ringing out
For Christmas Day.
The two of them were now laughing so hard they were struggling to catch their breath. Luckily, they recovered and continued.
I could have been someone
Well, so could anyone
You took my dreams from me
When I first found you
Killian gazed up at Emma, looking contemplative.
I kept them with me babe, I put them with my own
Can´t make it out alone, I´ve built my dreams around you
Emma blushed, but sang the last chorus with Killian with as much gusto as she could manage.
And the boys of the NYPD choir's still singing Galway Bay
And the bells are ringing out for Christmas day.
Killian played the outro, while Emma span around the empty tables. He watched her in amusement, almost feeling sad when he had to bring the song to a close.
When they heard the church bells chime midnight, they both looked at each other and smiled.
"The bells are ringing out for Christmas Day," quoted Emma, "Merry Christmas Killian."
"Merry Christmas Emma," he replied, "Would you do me the honour of fulfilling a Christmas tradition I haven't done in years?"
Emma looked at him confused, but her face cleared when he plucked on of the pieces of mistletoe she'd been using for decoration down from the wall, and held it above their heads.
"Yes," she agreed.
After all, it was just one kiss.
Killian's lips brushed hers lightly, before pulling away quickly.
"Thank you," he said softly.
"You're welcome," responded Emma, "I guess I should shut the bar now."
Killian took his cue to leave, but waited by the door until Emma came out.
"I'll see you around," he said, before taking off into the dark streets.
"See you around," Emma whispered into the darkness.
End note: Well, there we are. As I mentioned at the top, the sequel is in the works and will be revealed when done :) Please review! I love to hear your thoughts, prompts and comments!