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snowbellewells · 5 months

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Self Promo Sunday: "We Gather Together (Glad for the Blessings)"

This week's rerun is another little Thanksgiving one shot, meant to be taking place somewhere at the end of Season 6. I realize that Thanksgiving was over on Thursday, but I still wanted to share the little offerings I had for this sometimes overlooked holiday. I feel like it would be a very special and important holiday for both Emma and Killian - seeing as it's so much about family and togetherness with those you love, and both of them lived without that for so long.

Anyway, this is divergent from canon due to Robin's being alive and Belle not taking Rumple back, but otherwise I think it pretty much could have happened. Hope you all had a wonderful holiday yourselves, and that you enjoy this small story to celebrate the occasion!

** Also available on AO3 or ff.net (if that's your preference)***

Summary: A bit of Thanksgiving fluff - and a lovely, quiet moment for the whole Charming-Jones-Mills family count their blessings and rejoice in how far they've come

by: @snowbellewells

Barreling into the kitchen calling out "Henry?! Killian?!", Emma Swan was already well into panic mode due to the charred, burning smell that had reached her nostrils as soon as she'd mounted the steps to the front porch and the plumes of gray smoke wafting into her vision in the entryway once she opened the door. She was skidding to a stop at the kitchen table before she realized that, though the fire alarm had been bleating raucously, there were no sounds of panic or yells of dismay. Instead, both of her True Loves were now frozen, looking to her guiltily like they’d been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Killian was bent over the open stove, and Henry had his arm outstretched, fanning the air with a hot pad. They appeared to have been happy as clams until her sudden entrance..

Clearly they weren't in any immediate danger, and Emma's posture relaxed upon seeing that the house wasn't burning down and neither her son nor her pirate was blackened to a crisp. Shaking her head at them both, she genuinely tried to look stern instead of relieved and ready to burst out laughing. Crossing her arms, she mused aloud, "Do I even want to know what the two of you are doing?"

Sighing in defeat, Killian stood to his full height, letting the oven door bang closed and not quite meeting her reproving gaze as he raked a hand through his hair. He darted a quick glance at Henry, then finally answered her question. "We were trying to help you, Swan. It seemed prudent to get started with the main course before hosting your entire family tomorrow, and the lad felt sure he could offer guidance on the proceedings."

Henry flushed as Killian gestured toward him, and shrugged sheepishly, looking up at her with big brown eyes that, though in an older face, still proved as irresistible to her as when he'd showed up on her doorstep as a ten-year-old. "I may have overestimated how closely I was watching my other mom the last time she did this."

Emma couldn't help it; her metabolism did tick up a few notches and her eyes widened in shocked dismay. "Oh no, don't tell me… Do you mean to say you guys ruined that 19 pound Butterball I had all ready in the freezer?"

Killian winced a bit at her reaction. "Come now, Lass, it isn't as if we did it on purpose. You were just saying last night how you wanted everything to be perfect, you've never been able to celebrate a real family Thanksgiving with all the trimmings before, and everything should be just right. We only wished to help you along."

Emma gave an exaggerated nod as she responded, "Ah, I see," before a knowing light slipped into her eyes while studying one and then the other to see who would crack first. "Just selfless action from the good of your hearts, was it?"

Henry nodded, pulling off a ridiculously innocent look, but Killian couldn't quite meet her gaze, peeking up at her from beneath the fringe of his dark hair and eyelashes like a poor, repentant rascal. "Well, Swan, if the truth be told, we might have become a bit distracted…"

"I thought so," she affirmed with one last quick, triumphant dip of the head.

"Yes, well," Killian hemmed and hawed adorably, and Emma was almost afraid she might bite through her lip trying not to laugh out loud. The whole kitchen mishap was already long forgiven, but watching him stutter in embarrassment like he often caused her to do was too priceless to end just yet. "Love, your boy's moving picture box sucks a man in with its programs. Are you sure it doesn't possess some sort of hypnotic magic of its own? Perhaps we should not let Henry…"

"Okay, okay, hold up," Henry broke in anxiously, not about to see his stepdad - much as he might love him - relegate him back to the Stone Age with concern over modern technology.

Emma couldn't hold back her dissolution into helpless giggles any longer, and Killian stopped short with an affronted look at the noisy interruption from both of them at once. After a few moments, Emma reined in her laughter, assured Henry he wouldn't be losing all television privileges, and turned with the both of them to survey the wreck that had been her nice, clean kitchen when she'd left that morning. "Well boys, let's see what we can salvage," she said at last.

OoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

In the end, the turkey is magicked to golden brown perfection for the holiday meal. Emma had hoped to succeed at doing it the old fashioned way, but after seeing the damage Killian and Henry had wrought with their attempt – and though she only admitted it to herself, knowing either one of them was better in the kitchen than she was, when not unfortunately sidetracked – she decided there was no sense in further risking the main course she intended to serve to company.

She, Killian, and Henry did spend a warm, domestic, evening making the accompanying side dishes together. After placing a tray of butterhorn rolls in the oven to cook, Emma turned to see Henry flip a spoonful of cranberry sauce at Killian, hitting him square on the nose and making him jerk back in surprise at the splat of impact.

"Hey now," her pirate warned, glowering as he raised a spoonful of stuffing for a counterattack.

Emma thought idly that she should be warning them not to waste food, not to destroy their kitchen for a second time in one day, and basically chide them both to behave themselves, but instead she could merely watch as author and pirate mounted a giddy food fight she eventually joined, hugging herself tightly so she didn't simply burst with the joy swelling up inside her, so full of gratitude for both of them, for a home and family at last, and for this moment in which to enjoy it all. Thanksgiving, indeed.

That night when Henry had settled into his own room and the house had grown quiet, Emma stopped Killian as he left the bathroom after brushing his teeth, biting her lip at the all-too-inviting sight of him in dark blue lounge pants with little white anchors printed on them that he wore for sleep and all that dark hair on his toned and scarred chest. He looked upon her with a curious quirk to his brow, but didn't question her, only wrapped his arms around her waist and brought his forehead to rest against her own.

Enveloped in his warmth, Emma grew almost dizzy at the minty fresh breath he exhaled against her neck and nearly lost her train of thought altogether, but she pulled out the item she had intended to show him. It was the wishbone from their turkey, and she held it out for him to see. "Do you know what this is?"

"Aye," Killian answered, though she could tell by his expression he had no clue why she would draw his attention to it. "It's some part of that fowl we prepared for tomorrow's feast, but why…"

He trailed off when she twined the fingers of her free hand with his and brought his hand up to grip the opposite end of the wishbone from the one she held. "They're for wishing on," she explained briefly, playful mirth in her eyes. "People pull them apart and whoever gets the larger piece makes a wish that is then supposed to come true."

"Alright Lass, if you say so," he agreed gamely, a bit of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth now as well.

Holding her breath, Emma thought of all the times she had wanted to do this as a kid and had never been the one who got the wishbone. Or all the times as an adult that she'd had it, but no one in her empty apartment to hold the other end, or to appreciate the wish she'd made, nor share in her joy if it did come to fruition. As the fragile bone snapped and they looked down to the pieces in their hands, Emma and Killian found it had broken almost evenly, and so she whispered, not wanting to break the calm stillness in the room, "Let's say we both wish…together."

Killian merely nodded and closed his eyes as she did. When she opened them again, it was to meet his blue, blue gaze shining back at her. She had the feeling they'd wished for the exact same thing…many more years of holidays like this.

OooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

The blessed feeling carried over to the family dinner the next day. Sitting at the head of the long table in the dining room of a home of her very own – hers, Henry's and Killian's – the first time she'd ever had such a thing, Emma felt as though the whole scene was bathed in some sort of golden light, like she was living inside a perfect Norman Rockwell painting. The table surface was packed, crammed, overloaded with food – from the golden brown, crisp-skinned, turkey and their perfectly toasted, flaky butterhorns to Regina's apple dumplings, green beans, noodles, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and cranberry sauce. The ten-year-old foster child inside her nearly drools at the bounty, never quite able to banish the breakfasts, lunches, and dinners missed, the times she had sat alone in some cafeteria, eyes fixed on the food other students carelessly tossed in the bins which she would have loved to have while she had been packed nothing to eat and had no money to buy even a carton of milk, of the times she had gone to bed in a rickety bunk, stomach growling and unable to stop fixating on those cabinets full of snacks that were off limits. Seeing Henry to her right, Emma ruffled his hair affectionately for just a second before he turned to grin at her proudly. He was clearly as pleased as she was that their time spent cooking the previous evening had given them this much to show for it. Moreover, she could only rejoice that he had never known the lonely, starving days she had, and the fact that neither she nor Killian ever would again.

She gave her father a nod of confirmation where he sat at the other end of the table, leading him to grin widely, the warm look of love and happiness on his face making her feel even more that this moment really was all she had been missing – all she had ever wanted – all those years she spent alone. As David stood to carve the turkey and Snow alternated between beaming up at her husband proudly and passing the plates now loaded up with juicy slices of turkey down the table, Emma squeezed Killian's hand with her left, and he cut a knowing glance at her, showing clearly that he understood and felt it too.

Beside Henry sat Belle, then Snow, and across from Henry were Regina, Robin, and Roland. It would seem that their family continued to grow and warmly open to welcome into its circle anyone with nowhere else to belong on this day meant to be spent with loved ones. As she had wished for that very thing each holiday season for 28 years, Emma could think of no better nor more heroic thing for her family to do.

Once everyone had been served – both turkey and all the other dishes filling the long table – Killian stood with raised glass, even as Emma tapped her spoon against her own to garner everyone's attention for him. "A toast, mates, if I may," Killian announced jovially in that rich, enticing voice. Emma shivered slightly at the way its tones thrilled through her, though trying to give no outward sign; she would gladly listen to him read the ingredients of the box for the stuffing, but she knew everyone else was hungry and ready to dig in, so her heart swelled just that much more when the others around their table dutifully paused and turned to listen to him with genuine interest and agreement.

"I daresay I shan't keep us from this delectable feast for long," her pirate intoned, "but I have more to be grateful for this year than I have ever possessed in my ridiculously long life, and my thanks must be offered…"

He paused, meeting the eyes of each of those gathered around the table briefly, and then continued with a fervent tone which came out sounding a bit choked with emotion. "When I first arrived in this realm, still lost in my bitterness, anger, and thirst for revenge, I could not have imagined a day like this, full of peace, love, and gratitude. Emma, Love, when you offered me the chance to join you and be a part of something, and we undertook that desperate quest to Neverland, the idea that we could come to belong to each other as we do now, that you would hold my heart in your very palm, or that I would find myself with a true family again, seemed inconceivable. Yet, I am so glad you gave me that last chance, like a line thrown in the drink to a drowning man. It saved my life, turned me back around to the man I once meant to be. My thankfulness to be here with all of you today cannot be adequately expressed." He swallowed hard, dipped his head, and then took his seat again. "You have all blessed us with your presence at our table."

"Cheers!" everyone else agreed, raising their glasses to clink with each other around the table, several other eyes misty and voices husky with feeling besides their captain's. Emma blinked quite a bit herself, glancing around at their motley crew.

Her fingers reached across to trail lightly over Killian's shoulder, stroking his back soothingly for a few moments and then rising to delve playfully into the dark hair at the nape of his neck. Brushing gently through the soft strands, Emma smiled affectionately as his head inclined slightly toward her, thinking humorously that if he were a cat, her sailor would be nearly purring in contentment right now. This moment deserved to be captured – preserved – in her mind forever; she couldn't feel any more stuffed with grateful satisfaction.

OooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

It was nearly midnight when the last of their guests had been seen to the door and out into the chilly dark of Storybrooke's nighttime streets. Henry had gone with Regina; they had a tradition of shopping, followed by decorating the mayor's mansion for Christmas, and then capping the evening off with homemade apple turnovers running over with icing on their day after Thanksgiving. Emma marveled at Henry's blithely forgiving ability to still eat the things with relish after nearly dying from one bit of just such a poisoned pastry also made by Regina long ago. Still, she couldn't deny she was also glad to have her pirate to herself this night – a true quiet moment for the two of them.

They were curled around each other on the couch in the living room, watching flames crackle merrily in the fireplace, feet up on the coffee table, each of them enjoying a sweet taste of leftover pumpkin pie.

"Open up, Darling," Killian urged, fork upraised to her lips with a piece of sticky filling and flaky crust adorned with the sweet white topping she loved. Emma really didn't need him to feed her, but she playfully went along with his gesture and hummed in pleasure when the flavors exploded on her tongue.

"Mhmm, really good," she mumbled, her mouth still full, but nodding her head and moving to get a piece on her own fork and return the favor for him.

Killian's deep, reverberating chuckle stopped her though, and he leaned forward just enough to wrap his lips around the tip of her nose, licking off the bit of whipped cream he'd gotten on her moments before. It was a mostly innocent gesture, but his proximity, the warmth of the near kiss, and the fact that they were truly – finally – alone, relaxed, and had nowhere else to be, had her heart hammering triple time as she sat up quickly, unfolded her legs and pulled him up with her.

"Come on, Pirate," she spoke a little breathlessly, a devilish gleam in her eyes, "we can finish this later."

It didn't take him long to catch on and follow her eagerly, still chuckling with his hand in hers, as she picked up the can of whipped cream from the coffee table where she'd placed it earlier and hurriedly pulled him upstairs.

Tagging a few who may enjoy: @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @stahlop @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @xsajx @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @kazoosandfannypacks @booksteaandtoomuchtv @anmylica @bdevereaux @motherkatereloyshipper @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @spartanguard @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @winterbaby89 @jonesfandomfanatic @lfh1226-linda @bluewildcatfanatic

#self promo sunday #ouat thanksgiving one shot #cs one shot ff #post s6 canon divergent #we gather together (glad for the blessings)#thanksgiving one shot #holiday fluff fic

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sotangledupinit · 1 year

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a little bundle of icing - My CS Gift Exchange Fic

Prompt: Giftee's Wants: Established relationship, cs family fluff, cs parents, modern au with established relationship. NO: character death, angst

SUMMARY: She thought the hardest part would be hiding the gifts from the (mostly) reformed pirate. In actuality, the hardest part has been wrapping them. For some reason, every chance she’s gotten has been foiled by one thing or another.// or Emma tells Killian she's pregnant.

RATING: G for General Audiences

WORD COUNT: 4,575 words

TAGS: Captain Swan, Christmas, Holiday fluff, Pregnancy

AO3

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this was fun to work with and try, as i haven't done much established relationship writing. hope everyone enjoys this!

hi @middlemistcs13 ! i picked your prompt for the gift exchange! as you already know (and read), this fic has been up on AO3 for a few days but here’s the tumblr post to accompany it! yay! for anyone who hasn’t read this yet - i hope you enjoy!

***

“And this Santa Claus… your world doesn’t consider him to be flagrant?”

The answering huff of a laugh from Henry is loud, even from the other end of the table. “Dude. Of course not. He leaves presents for you to reward a year of being a good person.”

“But aren’t you required to cook for him as well?”

Emma’s eyes drift to the end of the table where Henry and Killian stand side by side, each holding a piping bag of icing, one red and one green. Sprinkles litter the table and powdered sugar is dusted across Killian’s leather vest, not that he cares much. Their sleeves are rolled up to their elbows and a mixing spoon is still taped to his brace (a brilliant idea that he and her son supposedly had; the mess they have yet to clean up says otherwise).

She tries hard to suppress her grin at the image but she knows she’s failing miserably so she ducks her head and kneads the dough beneath her knuckles, listening along.

“Well, not really,” Henry says. Emma feels his eyes on her for a moment but she pretends not to notice. “It’s more like a donation or a gift.”

“Ah ha!” Killian cheers, mixing spoon gesturing wildly as he points a finger at Henry. Some of the red icing drips from the bag under the pressure and lands with a plop! on the counter between the naked gingerbread people and sugar cookies. “So it’s not from the goodness of his heart!”

At her quick glance up, she catches Killian’s eye and he winks at her. Her kid can be too easy to rile up sometimes, something Killian likes to do to get back at Henry’s quips about his struggles with modern technology. She doesn’t always understand their relationship, the way they can rile each other up one moment and immediately slide into the caring, supportive step-father/son dynamic the next – but she’s grateful nonetheless to have them be so close.

Henry rolls his eyes. “Yes, it is. He’s basically our world’s Robin Hood.”

“Didn’t this world already have a Robin Hood?”

“Oh my god.” Henry groans and then calls out to Emma, a gallop of green icing landing on the face of a gingerbread man. “Mom, you need to divorce your husband.”

“No, you need to start decorating those gingerbread cookies instead of the table.” She thinks she succeeds in keeping the amusement out of her voice but Killian’s quiet snickering tells her otherwise. “And you,” she continues, aiming her glare at the husband in question, “have to clean up. I’m not letting you two leave without cleaning up first.”

“Are you positive you can’t to come with us, love?”

There’s nothing more that Emma would love to do than pick out a tree with Henry and Killian for their first Christmas in their house when there’s nothing going on. No foes, evils witches, or snow monsters appearing out of nowhere to ruin any holiday plans. Storybrooke has been blissfully peaceful for the most part for the last two years following the Final Battle.

Emma still knocks on wood when those thoughts cross her mind. Best not to jinx it.

Still, as much as she wishes she could join the boys on their tree hunt, she can’t as she has far more pressing matters to attend to. Those being trying to wrap Killian’s Christmas gifts without him finding out what they are first. She thought the hardest part would be hiding the gifts from the (mostly) reformed pirate. In actuality, the hardest part has been wrapping them. For some reason, every chance she’s gotten has been foiled by one thing or another.

Her first attempt was when Killian was going out for a day excursion on the Jolly Roger with Smee. She waited until she was absolutely sure the ship left the docks to pull out her gifts only for her sheriff’s beeper to go off. By the time she handled the situation and returned home, the Jolly had returned to shore and it was only a matter of time before Killian came back.

There were a few more close calls at home after that – enough to make her consider wrapping his gifts at the station. By the time she actually attempted it, David had barged through the front doors at such a speed that Emma’s surprised she managed to hide the gifts in time. Despite what most of the town believes about her mother, there’s no worse gossiper or meddler in town than her father. The only thing possibly worse than Killian discovering his gifts early is finding out about them from someone else.

After that, she assumed her luck had almost completely abandoned her. Christmas is coming up quickly and she can’t bear to give him his gifts without wrapping them. Last year he took so much pleasure in showing Henry how easily he could rip through the wrapping with his hook. She can’t take the idea of preventing the look of glee on both of their faces appearing again.

Plus, she wants to be able to watch Killian unwrap one of the most life-changing gifts ever, see the different emotions play on his face as the realization sinks in.

“I’d love to but I really can’t,” she answers honestly. “I have to handle security at the school’s Christmas fair today and we can’t keep putting off the tree. At this rate, we’d be getting it in January.”

“We’ll pick out a good one, Mom, don’t worry,” Henry consoles. He winks at her once Killian isn’t looking and his comforting smile only grows bigger.

It’s her own fault, really. One of her earlier attempts to wrap Killian’s gifts only resulted in Henry coming home from school to see them laid out on her bedroom floor when he went looking for her. The surprise that crossed his face quickly turned into pure joy and Emma unsuccessfully willed herself not to cry.

No bribing was needed to make Henry keep the gifts a secret. He knows how special this is for her.

For the second time in her life, Emma’s pregnant. For the first time, it’s with someone she loves – her True Love at that – and she has no fear of what the future might hold for her and their baby. She’s excited.

All she needs now is just ten minutes of peace with a guarantee of No Killian so she can actually keep it a secret until Christmas.

Killian and Henry are able to appropriately decorate the gingerbread and sugar cookies after a few elbow nudges are exchanged while she puts the last batch of cookies in the oven, though there are some close calls that Emma has to shut down the moment her eyes catch what one of them is trying to do. She does not want to deal with her father’s sputtering and mother’s giggles at the sight of any cookie decorated in any way less than a G rating.

By the time they’re leaving and Killian is warming up the bug, Henry pulls Emma aside under the guise of finding his missing shoe.

“You’re not really missing your shoe, are you? Because otherwise you’re going barefoot, kid.”

Henry rolls his eyes. “Chill, it’s in my backpack.” He hooks a thumb to gesture at the bag on his shoulders and Emma nods. “Grandpa’s already at the school and says he hopes you ‘feel better’. I’m planning to take my sweet time inspecting every tree with Killian. I’m gonna feed him a bunch of fake facts so that he gets really invested too. Should buy you like two hours.”

Emma worries her lip, shoving her hands in her back pockets so she doesn’t play with her ring, a sure sign that she’s hiding something if Killian sees her. “What if Killian’s researched about Christmas trees though? He may be a pirate but he’s also a nerd.”

Henry exudes a confidence that she doesn’t have, given her track record this season. “Trust me, I know how to rile him up.” She rolls her eyes goodheartedly at that. As much as Killian loved to tease and rile Henry up, her kid loved to do the same just as much. She worried at first that it meant the two didn’t like each other and couldn’t get along, but her worries were quickly tossed away when she saw the two sitting at her kitchen table as Killian spoke to Henry in low whispers, helping him with an issue in his friend group.

He treated Henry like an equal, let him know that everything he said, saw, and felt held value. A trust existed between them that Emma didn’t breach – not that she wanted to. She respected that as much as she wants to be able to do everything for her kid, sometimes he needs to seek out someone else and she’s thrilled that most times he chooses Killian. Ribbing on each other is just another way to show that affection.

Emma bids her goodbyes to the two. Henry’s hug leaves her feeling the warmth one only gets from being a parent, and Killian’s goodbye kiss sends tingles down to her toes. That tingling is the exact feeling that got her into this situation and if she hadn’t been already, the look he gives her as he shuts the door behind him would’ve done it.

She waits for them to make it to the tree farm, according to Henry’s location and update texts, checking in with David who’s covering her shift at the school’s Christmas fair. It is then and only then that she feels comfortable enough to wrap the gifts.

Hauling them out of the closet in no time at all, she makes quick work of wrapping them. Despite the assurances that no one would be bothering her, especially her husband, she still chances a glance over her shoulder every few moments, just to be sure. She’s come this far and she’ll be damned if letting her guard down ruins the surprise.

Wrapping goes seamlessly and Emma triple checks that she has gathered and wrapped all the gifts before she places them in the closet under the stairs with the others. One more thing she can cross off her list.

When Emma wakes up the morning of Christmas, it’s to soft humming against her neck, a Christmas song that’s been on the radio more often than not this last week. She’s just thankful it’s one of Kelly Clarkson’s songs and not Wham!’s Last Christmas.

“Merry Christmas, love,” Killian whispers to her neck before placing a light kiss there. He wraps his arm tighter around her middle, pulling her back flush against his front, and she feels her stomach erupt in butterflies. He doesn’t know it yet but his hand rests right where their kid is growing and she works hard to refrain her glee for the time being.

Instead, she focuses on the trail of kisses he places down her jaw until he leans over her side to plant one on her mouth. She hums contently into the kiss, turning onto her back so she can wrap her arms around his neck. “Merry Christmas indeed.”

They share a smile before he leans back in for a short kiss.

“How long do you suppose we have before the lad comes stomping down the stairs for his gifts?”

Emma considers his question, furrowing her eyebrows when she realizes she forgot to charge her phone overnight and it’s dead. “What time is it?”

“Nearly eight.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “It’s a matter of seconds then, not minutes.”

“Think we can distract him with his PlayStation?”

“Wait – PlayStation? Not ‘Playing box’? Not ‘Stationary play’?” He crinkles his nose at her poor imitation of his accent and shakes his head.

“Of course I’ve learned the names by now, Swan.” He ignores her interjection of ‘Jones’ though it does earn her a smile. “I’ve known them for quite some time. But Henry doesn’t know that and I quite enjoy annoying him with that bit.”

She laughs and runs her fingers through his hair, tugging lightly on the silky soft strands as her reprimand. However, his reaction shows it is anything but. “I don’t know which of you is worse. Honestly.”

The two of them lean in with the full intent to enjoy as much of a lazy morning in bed as possible on the holiday but their lips don’t even meet before it’s interrupted.

“Merry Christmas!” Henry yells as he comes down the stairs. His feet stomp on each step and Emma grins at the way Killian cringes. He pauses on the landing outside their door and shouts before hurrying down the steps with stomping feet again. “You’ve got five minutes before I force you out so get dressed!”

“Like a bloody ogre,” Killian mutters as he rolls off of her. Despite his grumbling, the smile he gives her as he helps her out of bed and pulls her close is soft. The walls between them disappeared long ago and neither of them are afraid of the openness that exists in their relationship. It’s another first for Emma, being able to be so unapologetically herself and so vulnerable with her emotions when before Killian, she’d always been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Never before him did she allow such a complete offering of herself to another person. With him, it doesn’t feel so scary.

It's also why she’s so excited to have this baby. Being with Killian makes anything they face not seem so bad.

The thought of what lies beneath their tree brings a giddiness to her movements that even her husband notices.

“What’s gotten into you this morning?” he asks as he puts on his brace. He sends her a wicked grin that has her toes curling as he attaches the hook – the same one he shined the night before so he could show it off to Henry in all its unwrapping glory.

“I’m just… really happy.”

“Aye,” he says once he comes close to her again, one hand on her waist and his lips descending upon hers. “So am I.”

Their moment is broken by Henry banging on their door, warning that they better come down that instant or he’s opening everyone’s presents. The notion gets a laugh out of her, knowing that despite his threats, her kid wouldn’t follow through with this one. Maybe.

Nervousness doesn’t come to her until it’s time to hand her gifts over to Killian. He sits in a pile of wrapping paper on the couch, the ‘Best Dad in the Universe’ mug Henry got for him sitting on the coffee table. Henry had been sheepish as he handed over the gift, calling Killian ‘Dad’ on occasion now and then, nowhere near a regular occurrence. Still, the sentiment behind the gift, and the true feelings it relayed, left both her son and husband emotional. They exchanged quiet words that left them both teary-eyed and Killian had wrapped it up by showing Emma the mug as if she hadn’t helped Henry design it online. He then sat it on the coffee table so gently like a prized trophy and couldn’t stop looking at it.

If he reacted this way to Henry’s gifts, she can’t imagine the emotion that’ll come with hers.

The two of them have led hard lives, obstacles in their paths trying to prevent them from wanting to push for the light at the end of the tunnel. But they both did, whether out of sheer stubbornness or resilience, she’s not sure, and it held it them together until they found each other. Then suddenly they weren’t navigating the ups and downs of life alone and everything became a bit more bearable day by day.

Fatherhood is something that always came natural to Killian, she could see, and something that he wanted. His pirating ways took him to many lands and realms but he’d gotten to the point where he wanted to settle down and have a family. To live a life of peace he was never granted beforehand. Villains didn’t get happy endings though so he assumed it was out of the cards for him.

Henry accepted him, made him part of their family, and looked to him as a father. The remaining Lost Boys sought out his comforting presence, a familiar figure, despite their tangled pasts or because of it, when they were feeling particularly lonely or destructive, and he provided a guiding hand back. Hell, even baby Neal latched onto him almost as quickly as he did her parents.

There was a contentedness to Killian when he stepped into the role of father-figure that she never saw before. It shined brightest with Henry but she always saw the longing look in his eyes when Henry left for a weekend at Regina’s or when they saw Sean and Ashley with their baby at Granny’s.

Her mother once said, “Happy endings always start with hope.” Their life together was the start. This is the continuation of it.

“Ready for my gifts?” Emma asks. She discretely wipes her sweaty palms on her thighs and takes the gifts from Henry’s outstretched hands. He gives her a reassuring smile and she can only manage a quick, tight but grateful grin in return.

“Thanks, love.”

Killian lifts his hook to open the smallest of the boxes when Emma shoots her hand out to grab his wrist, a loud ‘No’ leaving her lips before she even realizes what she’s done.

Concern fills Killian’s gaze as he leans closer. His eyes rove over her person, searching, cataloging, trying to get any hint of what’s happening. “Emma, what’s gotten into you?”

“Actually…” she starts with a sardonic laugh, tilting her head.

“Ew, gross, Mom,” Henry crimes in, face wrinkled in disgust.

She clears her throat while rolling her eyes and instead taps the biggest of the three boxes. “Open this first.”

“O-kay…” Killian eyes her as he gently, slowly, unwraps the biggest box. Instead it lies a photo album titled Daddy & Me. “It’s blank?” he asks.

“Yeah, it’s for you to fill it with photos.”

“Ah.” Killian turns to Henry. “I suppose we should start filling this up, aye?”

A quick moment of panic flashes across Henry’s face as he looks to Emma for guidance, both of them floundering. “Uh, yeah!” he says in a hurry. “I can help you fill it up.” He then gives Emma a pointed look, Killian none the wiser.

“Open your second one,” Emma encourages. Killian takes another hard look at the album, the content in his gaze soothing any nerves that remained from Emma’s anticipation.

Earlier, Henry laughed smugly as Killian ripped through about thirty layers of wrapping paper to finally uncover the mug. Henry encouraged him to really dig into it, something that flashes Emma’s mind back to the beanstalk and made her laugh. Killian had taken the message to heart.

Now, he uses the hook to lift the edges of the wrapping paper and gently unravels it. Beneath the paper is a box and Killian gives her a watery grin once he sees what’s inside.

His very first Christmas ornament – or at least the first that’s meant specifically for him – lays inside. It features a large brown bear holding a baby bear wearing a diaper. Beneath the figures is a banner that reads, ‘Papa Bear, Est. 2022”.

Emma expects the questioning glance he sends her way and the subtle, confused one he gives to Henry. However, he receives no answers and Emma finally taps the small box. “Now you can open it.”

She bites her lip and her and Henry share a reassuring nod as Killian opens the last gift. Sitting inside the small box, cleaned off and surrounded in tissue paper is a positive pregnancy test.

Killian picks it up with a cautionary gentleness that she hasn’t seen before. His mouth drops open as he stares it down and he mouths the word ‘Pregnant’ over and over again as his eyes get misty. “Is – is this real?” he asks, voice full of emotion. Emma nods, blinking back her own tears.

“Yeah, Killian, it’s real.”

“Gods, love.” Suddenly, Emma is pulled out of her chair and swept off her feet as Killian tugs her into a tight embrace. He kisses every inch of skin he can find, pulling back every few kisses to catch her lips before he embraces her again. His arms are bound around her tightly, the squeeze between them only getting tighter as Killian urges Henry to join their hug. “You’re going to be a big brother, lad. The best there is,” he whispers and Emma nearly lets out the croaking sob stuck in her throat.

As much as it is a monumental moment for Killian, he still includes Henry and still makes sure that he’s wanted around. The notion makes her heart burst. Once again, she’s aware that she never needed any official True Love test to give her confirmation that Killian is it for her. The way he acts proves it more than enough. It doesn’t make her any less emotional, especially as Killian whispers, as giddy as she’d been that morning, “We’re having a baby!”

“Yes, we are!” she whispers back excitedly.

The trio embrace for a few more moments before Henry’s phone rings and lets him know that it’s Regina reaching out. He congrats the two of them, tells them what wonderful parents they already are, and then bounds out of the room.

“Wow,” Killian says with the long release of a deep breath. “You’re pregnant.”

“I am,” she teases.

Killian’s wide grin matches her own and even though he leans in to kiss her, they aren’t able to do much as their smiles keep breaking through.

It’s not until Killian places a hand on her stomach that her breath catches and realization sinks in. They’re really doing this. They’re having a baby. She can’t explain it but she thinks she’s having a girl. Even Killian’s seemingly decided so as well, babbling on about their daughter despite the fact that they won’t officially find out until Emma’s next appointment in two weeks.

They will have a baby. Together.

They’re going to bring someone into this world that’s half him and half her and it’ll be their responsibility to not screw them up.

With Henry it was easier. He was already ten by the time he connected with both of them, respect and manners already instilled in him. All they had to do was encourage them to flourish. But with a baby, they’ll be starting from scratch. In all honesty, neither of them know much of what to do aside from the basics to keep a baby alive, but she figures they’ll approach it like they do everything else: together.

“You know, little one,” Killian starts as he leans down towards her stomach. “Your grandma is a very wise woman and she once told me that happy endings always start with hope.” He swallows, glancing up at Emma for a moment as his voice gets even quieter. “I’m excited to meet you, Hope.”

4 years later…

“No, no, no, love, not like that.”

Emma looks up from drying dishes and fixes her gaze on the other end of the table. Killian and Henry are bent over it, heads close together. Between them, Hope kneels on a chair and squeezes an icing bag with so much force that fat glops of red icing plop onto the cookies, nearly covering an entire group of gingerbread men. She watches the way Killian keeps the rounded curve of his hook, sharp tip pointed away, pressed against the center of Hope’s back to keep her steady, attempting to guide her in how to decorate the cookie while she just wants to mix colors together.

One of Henry’s hands holds a gingerbread man in place for her, fingers turning red from the icing that’s slipped over the side, and he’s quick to grab the green icing bag before Hope’s grubby little fingers can grab it. “Oh no you don’t, munchkin.”

“I’m not a munchkin!” Hope pouts. Her glare is fierce as she turns her attention to Henry, cookies completely forgotten as she stands from her kneeling position.

“Oh really?” he eggs her on, fighting to keep the grin off his face. “How come you’re on a chair and I’m still taller than you then? Munchkin.”

“Stinky nose!”

“Short stack.”

“Hairy back!”

A whistle breaks through their teasing before Emma can step in and all eyes go to Killian. He leaves his hook pressed against Hope’s back even as he straightens and stands tall. “Enough of this nonsense from me crew!” Hope stares at him with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, joy filtering its way into her features.

An aspiring pirate captain herself, the three-year-old takes great glee in seeing her father step into his, admittedly watered down, pirate persona. She turns towards Killian, bouncing where she stands in the chair. Her hands attempt to come together in claps but only succeed in dropping more icing all over her hands and Henry’s.

Killian plucks the icing bag from Hope and places it aside. “Now,” he starts, voice an octave lower. “This mess needs to be cleaned otherwise I’ll let Santa know to toss yer presents overboard! Aye?”

“Noooo!” Hope shouts. “He can’t do that!”

“He knows Santa,” Henry says. He nods to Killian as he catches the wet washcloth Emma tosses to him and begins to wipe his icing covered fingers. “He can totally make it happen.”

“Aye,” Emma adds, grinning wide at the way Killian’s nose crinkles. She holds a second wet washcloth in her hands and comes over to Hope, gently wiping her hands clean. “But perhaps me and Papa can clean up the kitchen while you help Henry put some tinsel on the tree instead. It’d be a big help.”

“Aye, aye, captain!” Hope tugs at her hands, pouting when Emma won’t let them free yet. However, once she’s able to, she turns and jumps on Henry’s back, already urging him towards the living room.

“You know,” Killian says, “you’ve just granted her permission to make a mess even worse than this one.”

Emma grins, “Are you saying you weren’t also desperate for five minutes to ourselves?”

Killian hums, giving her a grin that she knows so well. His arms come around her waist while hers wrap around his neck and their lips meet in a soft kiss. When he tries to pull away, Emma keeps him locked with her and the heat between them rises. So lost in the progressing passion of their kisses, she doesn’t even realize Killian’s lifted her onto the table until Henry voices his disgust.

“Gross, guys,” he says. “We eat there.” He shakes his head, shuddering at catching them mid-make out, and reaches for the extra bag of tinsel on the counter. He holds it up and points at it before he leaves. “For scarring me, I am not cleaning this up.”

A snort comes out of Emma before she can stop it and she closes her eyes, content as Killian presses a soft kiss to her cheek. His hand drifts down to rest against her stomach and she feels the butterflies of excitement start up again. Only two more weeks before they can share their big secret.

“This will be a fun Christmas, love.”

#captain swan #killian jones #emma swan #henry mills #captain cobra swan #swan jones family #a little bundle of icing #my fics #temporarystatus #captain swan fanfic #cs fanfic #cs ff #captain swan ff #holiday fic

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losergames · 1 year

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HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO THE CHOP SHOP CAST !!!!

how are the characters spending their holidays? (this includes marwa and hakeem because i love them to death) 💞

JADE 😁 i've been trying to write this out for days. like, i knew the crew had family problems but they really have family problems.

OKAY for the crew in general, they spend at least one afternoon/evening together in december, like a potluck dinner, and it always goes tits up sitcom style.

as for the crew indivdually:

Four - Four struggles with the end of year holidays since there is such a big emphasis on spending time with family. he definitely gives an end of year bonus to all of the crew, even if the shop had a bad financial year. He probably finds a reason to work in the shop during christmas day.

Dilani - Dilani is the grinch/scrooge of the group. she and her sisters visit her parents for Bodhi day, (more to appease the parents than to actually celebrate - first gen kid things) and it's a nice quiet day with food and civil company.

Sunny - Sunny doesn't mind the holidays, just hates the commercial side of it all. he spends christmas day at his grandparents, alongside his cousins, siblings and aunties/auncles. he also brings Maz along so they're not alone on xmas day.

Maz - Maz is the most festive of the group and is extra annoying about it to annoy Dilani. they buy presents for everyone, including Sunny's grandparents, decorate the workshop etc. Maz does not go home to their family for reasons.

Aimee - Aimee likes the holidays - a reason to eat, drink and let loose. she sees all of her immediate family, except for her sister and niblings, on christmas day. she visits her dads grave christmas day morning.

Marwa and Hakeem - Marwa and Hakeem don't celebrate any holidays in december, so it's business as usual! though i imagine they hang up the holiday cards they receive in december in the shop windows!!

#cs ask #this got so long LMAO #now i have to write a holidays chop shop episode #also happy holidays!!! i am very late

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rolling-restart · 1 year

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That Charles post. Thank god the break room is empty! He would be the prettiest present, desperately trying to beg for more off anyone. *🦡 down lol*

Okay but even better! Imagine him on a table in the middle of the main room, circled by ornaments and maybe candles, tied in an uncomfortable position? People mindlessly fingering him while having casual conversations? Someone putting their bag on him for a second because he is like… the part of the decoration. Carlos making him cry a little telling him that they are going to eat him because the shop was all out of turkey? Pierre pouring some candle wax on his back just to see him jold and jerk helplessly?

And when the night goes on, he would be fucked and cherished by all of your half drunk guests!!

#sub!charles leclerc #pg #cl #cs #nsfw.#holiday prompts by rolling restart #shibari #🦡

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anmylica · 1 year

Text

The City of Lights

A Captain Swan Fanfiction for @jrob64 as part of the CS Gift Exchange 2022.

Surprise! I am your gift exchange writer for this year’s exchange! I hope I nailed your request this year for a modern AU holiday fic! I am going to post this in two parts (because I am incapable of restraint, apparently). Part 2 will be posted on NYE!

Summary: Killian Jones has been waiting for the perfect opportunity to propose to the love of his life, Emma Swan. When he’s presented with the opportunity to whisk her away on a weekend trip to visit the Festival of Lights in Natchitoches, Louisiana, he’s confident that the perfect time will present itself. But even the best laid plans often go awry…

Tagging my usual crew: (want to be added? Let me know!) @xarandomdreamx @kmomof4 @snowbellewells @sotangledupinit @tiganasummertree @zaharadessert

Killian Jones opened the door of his apartment to the sound of his girlfriend, Emma “Swan” Nolan, quoting Steel Magnolias verbatim as the television blared in the background. Emma was spread out on the couch, trying to cover every square inch of its surface with her body, blankets, and pillows, eating peanut butter straight out of the jar and quoting lines as if she were Shelby Eatenton herself. He smiled at the sight she presented.

“You’re as bad as Mary Margaret, I hope you realize,” he called to the blonde, causing her to jump, as she didn’t hear the door open.

“You’re home early!” Emma exclaimed, smiling to see him but not moving from her spot on the couch. “Slow shift?”

“Aye, it was. I’m technically still on call for the next thirty minutes, but it should stay quiet.” Killian removed his Boston PD jacket and placed his radio on the counter, making sure to turn the dial on the volume loud enough to hear it should he get called out.

Emma hummed, turning her attention back to the movie for a moment, quoting the lines, “My colors are blush and bashful” with the practiced ease of someone who had seen the movie dozens of times before.

Killian moved to sit on the arm of the couch. “Would you want the colors of your wedding to be blush and bashful, love?”

Emma’s eyes widened and she made a shocked trilling sound in the back of her throat. “Woah, woah, woah,” she started, wholeheartedly engaging in the game of cat and mouse they always partook when the subject was brought up. Though Emma was not opposed to marriage (in fact, she was actually hoping that wedding bells would ring in the very near future), it was a running gag amongst all her friends and family that just the hint of white lace would set her running for the hills.

Killian held his hand up, cutting off her reply, and inserted, “Calm down, Swan, I’m not proposing.” His eyes were on the screen so he missed the disgusted, let down expression that crossed her face at his words. “I’m merely curious since this is your favorite movie if you would ever want to use the same color scheme.”

Emma huffed. “I like blush and bashful well enough, but I wouldn’t want them together,” she replied tersely, a little annoyed with her boyfriend of three years.

Killian had brushed off any mentions of their making their relationship legal, a fact which Emma played off in front of their friends (especially her brother and his wife, Mary Margaret) but Emma secretly loathed. She had been hinting for weeks and weeks that she was ready, but he either was playing dumb or he truly didn’t pick up on her hints. She was about ready to admit that maybe she needed to be a little less subtle in her desires, but she wasn’t quite ready to throw in the towel yet. What she didn’t realize was that Killian was very well-aware of her desires and was merely acting in that manner to make her less suspicious of his intentions.

“Too much pink, eh?” Killian smirked.

Emma shrugged and said, “Maybe for you.”

The two fell into a companionable silence as they watched the screen for a few more moments. When a shot of the town the movie was filmed in was shown, Emma said, “I’d love to see where they filmed this.”

Killian frowned. “Where did they film it?”

“I have no idea,” Emma said as she grabbed her phone. After a quick search, she announced, “It was filmed in a place called,” and she paused. “I don’t know how to say this.”

Killian looked at the screen “Natch-uh-toes-es?”

Emma shrugged and scrolled. “It’s in Louisiana, apparently. Just about an hour south of Shreveport on the western side of the state.”

Killian nodded. “You want to go one day?”

Emma scoffed. “There’s nothing there except trees and rednecks with jacked-up trucks, I’m sure.”

Killian took the phone from her and scrolled through some of the information. “It says they have a ‘Festival of Lights’ in December. It’s actually already started.”

Emma gave him a side-eyed look. “That’s just a way to draw tourists in to make money off the unsuspecting people who think there’s more there than there really is.”

Killian nodded in response absentmindedly. An idea was forming in his mind. He knew Emma actually would enjoy that trip, as they had done several like it in times past. She was just trying to downplay how badly she wanted to tour the town so as to cope with the disappointment of not being able to go. The best thing about her job is she could work from just about anywhere, as she worked in bail bonds, which required research online, and only paid her a check upon the successful delivery of the fugitive she was hunting. If she wanted to take a few days’ vacation, then she could with no issues. Killian had some time accumulated with the police force, and it would be nothing more than applying for a few days off.

He continued to look through the pictures of the festival. It looked quaint, with the lighted displays glinting off the water of the Cane River and accompanied by horse-drawn carriage rides. Killian could suddenly feel a hole burning in his pocket, so to speak, at the thought of being able to propose to Emma in that setting. He had bought the ring ages ago and was simply waiting for a moment when the time felt right. Perhaps that would be it? His mind suddenly made up, he handed her back her phone.

Emma took it absentmindedly, her attention already back on the movie. Killian got up and moved to grab his radio even though his shift would end in just a few minutes. He picked it up and carried it with him to the bedroom, where he closed the door and took out his phone to call his shift captain to arrange the vacation time.

Once he had the necessary arrangements made, he called David (who, besides being Emma’s brother, was his partner with the Boston PD) and asked him to help him look at hotels, flights, and other necessities. He also filled David in on his plan for proposing to his sister, a fact of which David was already aware. Within about forty minutes, Killian had plane tickets, a hotel room reserved, a rental car lined up, and was quickly looking up information on the Festival of Lights itself to plan out an itinerary.

He answered Emma when she called out to him wanting to know what he wanted for dinner, and then made his way to the shower to get rid of the dirt and grime that he often felt after a day spent upholding law and order. A satisfied smirk on his face, he began whistling as he turned on the water.

This was going to be a Christmas surprise that Emma would never forget.

After his shower, he discreetly printed the plane tickets, hotel confirmation, rental agreement for the car they would need, and placed all the documents in a Manila folder. Peeking into the living room, he saw that Emma was now sobbing in tears at the scene on the screen of Shelby’s funeral. He smiled at her show of emotion. Emma “Swan” Nolan may wear a layer of red leather as armor, but he knew she was a closet romantic and the sweetest soul he knew. The only person he knew that could even hold a candle to her purity was Mary Margaret, David’s wife and Emma’s sister-in-law, and even she wasn’t on Emma’s level in some ways.

Killian watched Emma watch the screen, appreciating this quiet moment that he never thought he’d get to have. After so many things had nearly torn them apart, from vengeful exes to their own stubbornness in admitting their feelings and then their sometimes dangerous jobs, he had never thought they would get here, but he now had everything he ever wanted.

Lost in his reverie, he didn’t notice when the movie ended and Emma stood up and sauntered over to him, a seductive smile on her face, though tear tracks stained her cheeks. He thought there was no better sight than Emma in sweats and no makeup coming towards him with that look in her eyes.

“Hey, Lieutenant, what’s a girl gotta do to get some company?” She wrapped her arms around him and he reciprocated the gesture, smiling as he did so. “What’s that you’ve got?” She nodded towards the folder.

He lifted it and handed it to her. “See for yourself.”

Emma took the folder and opened it, wondering what was in it. She studied the print-outs for a moment, her brow furrowed, before she realized what she was looking at. “Is this-” she started.

“A trip, fully booked and paid for, for us to go to this Natchitoches place to see where they filmed your second favorite movie in the whole wide world,” he finished for her. “Aye, love. It’s part of my Christmas gift to you.”

Emma’s eyes widened at what he said. “You really booked this for us?”

Killian nodded. “Just this evening. You can’t fool me, Swan, I know you’d love to make that trip. You’re always on about how beautiful the place looks on the screen.”

Emma smiled at him. “Do I want to make that trip?”

Killian smirked. “Well, you’re something of an open book.”

They both laughed and embraced for a long moment. FInally pulling apart, but not completely, Emma gave him a sly smile and a pointed look.

“I believe I should show my gratitude, don’t you think, Lieutenant?”

Killian tapped his lips and returned her sly smile. “Perhaps gratitude is in order now.”

Emma rose up and kissed him fiercely, grabbing his shirt to tug her closer. Dropping the folder, he picked her up to carry her into the bedroom. Everything else could wait. He had his Swan to ravish, first.

Several days later, Emma was desperately trying to pack her carry-on suitcase for their trip. Nothing seemed to be exactly right, though she didn’t know much about the Southern states’ climate having grown up only in the northern states. She had desperately called Mary Margaret over to help, and her sister-in-law had promptly arrived thirty minutes later bearing two hot chocolates in hand, ready to help Emma solve her latest crisis.

“What do you even wear in Louisiana in December?!” Emma shouted in frustration, tugging at her hair as she scanned the contents of her side of the closet. Their plane was set to leave from Logan International in the morning, and she was now only half packed. She had the essentials in her suitcase, like comfortable pajamas and her toiletries, but the actual outfits to wear during the day were still yet to be picked. It was the beginning of winter, and Boston had snow on the ground already, but Louisiana wasn’t a winter state. Did they even get snow? What was their average temperature this time of year? Did she need a swimsuit? Did they go swimming in December? Emma let her head thump against the frame of the closet door in frustration.

“Clothes might be the best option,” David replied, coming in to get Killian’s suitcase to help load it in Killian’s truck so they wouldn’t be lugging heavy bags around in the morning in a rush.

Emma rolled her eyes. “Nah, I think I’ll just wear my tattoo and a smile,” she snarled back at her brother. David grinned and grabbed the packed suitcase, walking out without replying.

Mary Margaret breezed in behind him after a bathroom break, replying as she did so, “Louisiana is usually around mid to low 70s or high 60s during the day at this time of year, and anywhere in the high forties or low 50s at night. They would be warmer or colder, but it usually won’t be by much. Jeans, sweaters, some lighter shirts, a jacket and maybe a hat and gloves and boots, should be all you’ll need for the temperatures.”

Emma looked at her best friend in disbelief, leaning her head against the closet door frame. “Seriously? When did you become an expert in climates of states you’ve never been to?”

Mary Margaret handed Emma her phone with a weather app pulled up that showed a graphic of the same information she just told Emma. “Since I Googled it.”

Emma smiled in response, rolling her eyes as she turned back to her closet. She settled on pulling out her favorite pair of jeans, a pair of leggings, and a skirt that she liked to wear for dates with Killian sometimes. She threw them haphazardly in her suitcase, which caused Mary Margaret to tut in exasperation at her sister-in-law’s messy habits as she grabbed the items to fold them properly.

“Do you want tights to go with this skirt,” Mary Margaret asked as Emma dug for her favorite white Aran knit sweater.

“Yes, can you grab me a pair of black ones?”

Mary Margaret moved to grab the item Emma would need, and when she turned back to place the item in the suitcase, she saw Emma holding a black leather dress with a thoughtful look on her face.

“New dress?” Mary Margaret asked, noticing the tags still on it.

“Yeah,” Emma replied, a little breathlessly. “I bought it as a surprise for Killian for a special celebration.”

The brunette smiled excitedly. “Do you think he’s going to propose on this trip?”

Emma shook her head slightly. “I don’t think he even realizes that’s what I want.”

“Then you should tell him! And pack that dress just in case! If nothing else, you can wear it to tell him you’re ready to take the next step.”

Emma winced a bit. “What if he doesn’t feel the same?” she whispered softly, fearful of the possibility that the answer was that Killian didn’t feel the same as she did.

“Emma!” Mary Margaret chided gently. “Of course he feels the same! He told David that he was ‘in this for the long haul.’ His exact words. A proposal is probably going to happen sooner than you think!”

Emma sighed. “I hope so. I never thought I would find what we have together. I don’t want to lose it.”

Mary Margaret hugged her close and Emma held on tightly to her sister-in-law. “You won’t. And you should bring that dress and a pair of red heels with you on your trip.”

Emma smiled and turned to place the dress in the suitcase. “I think I will.”

Feeling much more centered, Emma quickly grabbed the rest of her items and finished packing. She rolled her bag out to the living room and passed it off to David. Killian was just coming back inside from where he had walked downstairs with David to load up his luggage.

“All set, love?” He asked, taking her in his arms.

Emma nodded contentedly. “All set,” she sighed happily. She held onto him as tight as she could. She couldn’t wait for their next adventure together.

The roar of the planes taking off the next day could be heard in the background as Killian argued with the woman behind the counter at the car rental inside Dallas Fort-Worth International about the rental he had reserved. Emma stood a little ways down the concourse from him watching the planes arrive and depart through one of the windows, though she could still hear his frustration. It seemed that his information and reservation had been lost.

The plane ride from Boston to Dallas had been uneventful. Emma loved quick plane rides that didn’t involve any hassle. She just wanted to get where she needed to be. Having Killian be there to handle any problems they encountered was a blessing to her.

“Well, Swan, it seems we finally have a vehicle. The woman said the drive was a little under four hours if we hit traffic right.” Killian had moved behind her while she was ruminating on her thoughts. She turned and smiled.

“Lead the way.”

They walked out of the airport and to the location of the car. Once they located it, they loaded their luggage and began to make the next part of their journey. Killian sang along to the radio as Emma stared at the scenery. Everything looked very different from home, though it did grow monotonous after a while. After a couple of hours, they arrived in Shreveport and stopped for a quick lunch before continuing south on Interstate 49 to Natchitoches. They arrived at the Natchitoches exit around three in the afternoon. Emma looked at the hotels and fast food joints that surrounded Highway 6 and turned to Killian.

“Is our hotel here?”

He grinned in reply. “I thought we would stay at a more ‘on location’ site and booked us at the Saint Denis Hotel. It’s right along Front Street.”

Emma nodded in understanding and kept watch out of the window. As they came into the outskirts of the city, she noticed a university of some sort to the right.

“Is that Northwestern State University?” She asked.

Killian nodded. “I think so. We have tickets to a show their performing arts center is performing tomorrow night.”

Emma raised her eyebrows in mock disbelief. “Getting fancy on me, aren’t you?”

Killian laughed. “It’s called the Christmas Gala. We’re going to dinner before and then the show starts at 9. I hope you brought something appropriate to wear.” Killian shot her a sly look and licked his lips. Emma laughed in delight, grateful now that she had listened to Mary Margaret’s advice about packing her black leather dress.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She teased back. Killian grinned wider but didn’t say anything, instead turning his attention back to the road. They drove past the college, eventually turning left onto Jefferson Street.

Up until that point, there had been Christmas lights draped along light poles and various other points, but the moment they turned onto Jefferson, the lights started. As they drove, the road felt as if they were entering a tunnel of multicolored lights. Light strands zigzagged above them, and there were light-drawn figures on every telephone pole. As they drove, they could see some of the scenes that Natchitoches was famous for this time of year. It looked amazing, and it wasn’t even dusk yet.

After trawling through bumper to bumper traffic and getting turned around for a moment or two, they finally arrived. The hotel lobby was decorated in a modern Provencal style that Emma had seen once before during a brief trip to New Orleans during Marci Gras with Killian a couple of years before. Although not as ornate as other places Emma had seen, it still had a homey feel to the place. Check-in was much less of a hassle than getting their rental car was, too, Emma noticed. Once they made it into their room, which was decorated in a similar style, they set their luggage down and Emma flopped onto the bed. Killian sat on the edge, watching her in amusement.

“Tired, love?” He asked. It had been a long day of travel, after all.

Emma closed her eyes and nodded. “A little.”

“What do you think so far?”

“Emma opened her eyes and looked at him. “Well, you’re sitting too prim for me but at least you're on the bed.” Emma shrugged slightly, holding back a teasing grin.

Killian rolled his eyes. “I meant about the town, Swan.”

“I know what you meant,” Emma laughed before continuing, “honestly, it’s all a bit cheesy, but I can see why it’s a popular lights destination for this area. I’ve had fun so far.”

“I’m glad,” Killian replied and bent down to place a soft kiss on her lips, which she happily returned. After several moments, he pulled away and stood. “If you’ll get freshened up, we’ll go walk downtown and scope out the place. I’ve heard they have a lot of great food here.”

Emma smiled and got up and walked to the bathroom. “I’ll be right out,” she said, cocking her hips to the side sassily.

He laughed and returned, “I’ll be waiting.”

Once he was. certain she was ensconced in the shower, the door firmly closed behind her, he let out a shaky breath and put his hand in his pocket. Clasping it in his hand, he pulled out a black velvet box and opened it. The engagement ring was nestled safely inside, the huge center stone glistening in the light coming from the bedside lamps.

Killian wasn’t sure when exactly he was going to propose, but he hoped that tomorrow night might provide the most romantic scene. Surely there would be an opportunity sometime between dinner, the concert, and hopefully a nice stroll along the river taking in the lights. Maybe they would luck out and get to do a carriage ride on one of the horse-drawn carriages he had spotted as they arrived. All he knew was that he couldn't wait any longer. He had had the ring for several months now, but something always stopped him from asking her.

But not this time. When they flew back to Boston in three days’ time, they would be engaged. He knew Emma wanted it just as badly as he did, and there wasn’t anything he wouldn't do to help her have one of the best Christmas seasons of her life. He just hoped he didn’t chicken out once he found the right moment.

An hour later, they were strolling along Front Street taking in the sights. The lights were on, but the sun hadn’t yet set, and Killian knew they would be better once it was dark. The streets were busy, as the area drew in a lot of tourism and the college kids were still in class and would likely continue to be until around the 15th. Emma, in true Emma fashion, found a street vendor who was selling hot chocolate, and they bought a couple of to-go cups and sipped on them as they walked.

They passed a lot of shops, one of which was the Kaffie-Frederick General Mercantile Store, which was a blast from the past that was apparently founded in 1838. They learned from a local working the cash register that the name of the town wasn’t pronounced how it looked.

“It’s pronounced ‘Nack-a-tish,” the friendly-faced woman laughed, seemingly not surprised by their lack of ability at pronouncing the name. “It was the name of a local Native American tribe. You’d actually be surprised how many people come here unable to pronounce it. And don’t even try to ask Siri anything about it. She doesn’t understand the word at all!”

Killian and Emma shared a glance of amazement at just how wrong they had gotten the name, quickly wrapping up their purchases. After they deposited their purchases in their room, it was late enough for them to grab dinner at one of the restaurants on Front Street, a place called Mama’s that was adjoined to another place called Papa’s. Dinner passed quickly with both enjoying the live music playing and being together in a place where they had no worries. Killian kept sneaking glances at her when she was watching the band, struck by how happy and relaxed she looked.

Perhaps this was the moment? Should he get down on one knee now? Though he hadn’t planned on asking for her hand tonight, it seemed as if this time could be the time. His hand drifted to the pocket of his leather jacket and gripped the black box residing in it. Emma laughed at something the lead singer said (what it was, Killian couldn’t have said, because nothing existed but Emma and this moment), and he pulled the box out.

“Emma?” He called, a little louder than normal so as to be heard over the din.

She turned and looked at him, smiling brightly. “Yeah, babe?”

He broke off for a moment as she looked at him expectantly. The words he wanted to say, of adoration and forever and will you be mine, got stuck in his throat. He cleared it, and grabbed her hand. “I love you,” he stated a little flatly, let down by his inability to say what he wanted.

Emma chuckled softly. “I love you, too,” she replied. “Are you okay? You looked almost nervous just now.”

“I’m fine, love.” He looked down at the table for a moment, caressing her hand with his thumb, before he looked up and caught her eyes again. “We’ve been together for a while, haven’t we? Shared many adventures together?” He asked, trying to buy some time to get his thoughts together.

Emma tilted her head a bit in confusion. “Aye,” she responded, teasing. “Why do you bring it up? You’re not breaking up with me are you?” Her face fell at the unpleasant thought, and Killian’s heart skipped a beat at her words.

“Of course not! I would never- I want you by my side always!”

Emma’s face relaxed from relief. “Oh, good. That’s good because I feel the same way.”

“I can’t believe you would think I’d take you all this way to break up with you,” Killian responded, momentarily derailed from the romantic speech he didn’t have planned to ask the question he knew that both of them wanted yet fully paralyzed him with fear at articulating to her.

Emma laughed and shrugged. “Stranger things have happened to me before.”

“Indeed, they have,” Killian responded, not continuing as the waitress came over to see if they needed anything else. Once they had settled the bill with her, they had silently agreed that it was a good time to head back to their room. Killian lamented that the moment had passed, but he also couldn’t help but feel some relief. If he couldn’t get out the question without botching it up, then he shouldn’t ask it until he could do so without making her question if he’s about to end their relationship.

After they had been walking for a moment or two, Emma said, “So why did you bring up how long we’ve been together?”

Killian looked out at the scene before them, of the glimmer of the lights on the Cane River and the romantic atmosphere of the quaint college town. “I was just thinking about how much we’ve seen and done,” he finally responded before looking at her. “There’s no one else I’d rather go through life with.”

Emma smiled and stopped them from walking any further. She leaned up and gave him a long, slow, soft kiss, one that Killian gladly returned. Their mouths moved in the perfect sync that came from years of devotion and adoration. Killian drew her further into his embrace, wrapping his arms around her as she moved one hand to clench in his hair and the other to cup the back of his neck. Neither carried the kiss much further, aware as they were of being in the middle of a public sidewalk with many other people around them for the festivities, but the heat that always seemed to simmer between them was stoked to a higher flame.

As they both pulled away from the kiss, Killian rested his forehead against hers. He looked into her eyes, asking a silent question, one that Emma responded to with a similar look. They both turned and quickly finished the trek back to their hotel room. Once inside, they gave into the passion and love that consumed them in the dance of lovers as old as time itself. After they lay sated and entwined, Killian briefly thought of asking her then, but when he turned his head to broach the subject, he saw that Emma lay peacefully asleep. Smiling, he tugged her closer and gave into the exhaustion that ebbed at his consciousness. There was always tomorrow, after all.

#ouat holiday fics #ouat #captain swan au #captain swan fanfic #csge22 #captain swan gift exchange #captain hook #emma swan #killian jones #anmylica writes #for jrob64 #once upon a time #cs ff

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