whimsicallyenchantedrose - Tumblr blog

whimsicallyenchantedrose · 7 months ago

Text

I'm so sorry it took so long to respond to this! I actually read it several days ago when I wasn't able to comment, and then I forgot to come back to it. 🤦‍♀️

This was so cute! I loved Mary Margaret and David's reaction to finding out Emma was pregnant. I loved the competitiveness between Killian and Henry over the gingerbread creations. It was so creative to have Henry's play be scenes from the CS movie.

My favorite part, though was the whole scene with Hope waking them up on Christmas morning and them telling her about her baby in mommy's belly. So precious!

Thank you! This was such a nice gift!

Gingerbread Houses and Plays and Christmas! Oh My!

Second and Final Chapter!

Here is the second chapter! Sorry for the delay! This is the second installment of my fic for Captain Swan Secret Santa 2024 @cssecretsanta2020 and this is my gift for @whimsicallyenchantedrose. Thank you so much for being so patient with me! You are seriously one of my very favorite authors, and I hope this has been an alright story! I've been very worried about making this good enough for you!

Any and all feedback is much appreciated! I'm still continuing to learn to be a better writer, and would love any thoughts you might have. Thanks so much for reading! I hope you all had a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! (Or a Happy Holidays if you don't celebrate Christmas!)

Rated: G

Word Count: 4K

“Pass the frosting, love,” Killian said, holding together two pieces of gingerbread. Emma passed him the pipping bag full of white frosting. The Swan-Jones household was busy making their gingerbread houses. They had cleared off the kitchen table and were all in deep concentration making their houses. Well, their gingerbread things. Emma and Hope were working on a gingerbread house together. Hope directed Emma and helped when possible. Henry had decided to make an AT-AT from Star Wars out of gingerbread. Killian had, as Henry predicted, decided to make the Jolly Roger out of gingerbread.

“They are so going to vote for my gingerbread being the best!” Henry said, confident in his artistic ability.

“Lad, don’t get too overzealous. I am creating a mighty fine ship over here.” Killian responded. The boys decided to display their gingerbreads for their family to judge and pick a winner tomorrow morning on Christmas Eve. Everyone would spend Christmas Eve over at Emma and Killian’s for breakfast before more gatherings would occur throughout the day. The loser of their friendly competition had to do the winner’s chores for a week.

“Mama! We need more gumdrops for my roof!” Hope interrupted her father and brother’s playful banter.

“Okay, relax. I’ll grab them.” Emma responded, shaking her head slightly at her toddler’s enthusiasm. She jumped up and down for five minutes when Henry told her they would make gingerbread houses this Christmas season. “Do you want more of the pink and purple ones or all the colors?”

“Purple! And pink! And all of them!” Hope said, practically bouncing in her chair. Killian laughed quietly at his daughter.

“Hey! Stop eating those candy pieces, little love. We need them for decorating. You can have a snack after we finish,” Killian chided Hope.

“Sowwy! Candy is dewiscious!” Emma handed the little girl some more gumdrops, and she quickly went to work adding some on the roof of their gingerbread house.

“Do you guys want some hot cocoa? I’m craving some,” Emma asked, getting the milk out of the fridge to boil on the stove. A chorus of “yes”es rang out in their kitchen. Emma got to work preparing four cups of hot cocoa while the milk boiled. This time next year they would have an infant, and everything would be hectic and crazy in a different way. Emma and Killian won’t be getting any sleep, and they had just gotten to the point that Hope would sleep through the night about a year and a half ago. They are still working on Hope staying in bed until at least 6:30 on school days, and 7 on weekends and breaks. Hopefully, Henry can come home from college for the winter holidays next year. Emma didn’t think it would ever feel like Christmas if all of her kids weren’t home.

The bubbling of boiling milk snapped Emma out of her thoughts, and she poured the glasses of milk into mugs before finishing making the hot chocolate exactly as they all liked. Emma took a minute to take in her family just the way they were- Henry laughing at something Killian had said, some flour in his hair; Killian putting a dab of icing on Hope’s nose, causing her to burst out into a fit of giggles; her husband entertaining their kids, his smile lines showing in the cold, winter light streaming through the windows. She hoped their home was always filled with love and laughter like it was in this perfect moment.

-------CS-------

“My AT-AT was better than your ship,” Henry grumbled as they walked up the steps to Regina’s mansion.

“Lad, just admit that you lost. Fair and square as they say,” Killian replied with a smirk.

“It’s only because the kids don’t know what an AT-AT is yet. Everyone loves the Jolly Roger. And you!” Henry snapped.

“Everyone loves me?”

“Killian, stop. It’s Christmas Eve. Stop antagonizing him,” Emma hushed. They greeted everyone at Regina’s house. They were evidently the last ones there. Zelena practically lived with Regina and Robin, and young Robin also lived with them and Roland. Emma’s parents and siblings were already there, and so were Belle and Gideon. Gold was apparently home with the flu. Not that she wished him ill, but she was certainly glad Gold was not there for Christmas Eve to prevent any possible feuds between him and Killian. Granny was also spending Christmas Eve with them since Ruby had moved to Kansas with Dorothy.

After greetings, they gathered around for their feast. It was a potluck of Christmas dishes, with a little of everything anyone could want to eat around the holidays. Emma was thankful her morning sickness was pretty much gone, because she was hungry and wanted to enjoy the food. They had brought Emma’s new found favorite dessert: a chocolate peppermint ganache brownie deliciousness. Emma was craving all things chocolate and peppermint right now, and she had made these brownies at least once a week for the past month. Most of their company seemed to enjoy the brownies as well, complimenting the couple. When everyone had finished eating, the adults helped clean up the kitchen and dishes, while Henry took the children to prepare for their play. Henry had his camera set up to film the play for his senior project. The children got into their costumes, and before long, the adults were settled and the play had gone underway. Emma and Killian sat on a loveseat together, his arms protectively draped over her shoulders. She laid her head on Killian’s shoulder as Henry began narrating the play.

Henry was a natural storyteller, and his job as the author only strengthened his skills. Henry had chosen to reenact Emma and Killian’s journey to the past in the Enchanted Forest, when Emma and Killian got to watch Snow and Charming fall in love. The children were playing different people, with Gideon playing his father, Neal as David, Margaret Ruth as Snow, Hope as Emma, Robin as Regina, and Roland as Killian. Henry weaved them through the story, with Hope and Roland going back in time, and arguing in the forest about getting back to the present. There was a costume change, and Hope was then wearing a cloak reminiscent of the Enchanted Forest. They then meet Gideon, who did an excellent job playing his father. Gideon even perfected Rumple’s voice he used before arriving in Storybrooke 30-some years ago. Hope and Roland had another costume change, and Hope was wearing a red satin dress she had worn for Christmas last year. Roland got down on his knees to help Hope dance during the “ball’. Robin, playing Regina, suddenly interrupted their dance and takes Hope prisoner. Roland and Neal converse before going to break Hope out of prison. Before they get there, Hope has escaped herself and delivers Emma’s famous line of “Sorry. No one saves me but me!” and winks at their audience. There’s a brief jump ahead and Hope and Roland help to ensure that Neal and Margaret Ruth meet for the first time. Hope and Roland once again talk with Gideon, before they discover that Hope has her magic again, and they return from their adventure into the past. They all hold hands and bow, finishing out their little play.

The adults burst out into applause, and congratulate the kids on their great performance. Every adult in the room embraces Henry and praises him for a job well done. Despite everyone speaking highly of Henry’s hard work, Henry can’t help but grumble.

“It would have went a lot smoother if they had actually bothered to practice!”

-------CS-------

“Mama! Papa! It’s Chwistmas! Get up! Get up! Get up!” Hope shrieked, making her way down the hallway to her parent’s bedroom.

“Ugh, already?” Emma mumbled into her pillow, pulling her husband's arms closer around her. His hand was firmly planted on her baby bump, thumb rubbing circles into her bare skin where her shirt had slid up in sleep. Killian kissed her shoulder before snuggling his face in her long blonde tresses. Hope opened their door and skipped to her father’s side of the bed.

“Papa! It’s Chwistmas!” She repeated, trying to climb up the bed. Killian relented and helped her up, tickling her in the process. “Papa!” Hope giggled, crawling on the bed to her mother for protection. Emma enveloped her daughter in her arms, kissing the little girl on her hairline.

“Good morning, baby,” Emma said, snuggling Hope closer to her.

“Morning, Mama. It's Chwistmas!” Hope said, her blue eyes shining in the early morning light.

“You’re right. It is Christmas morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Good! I had dweams that Santa bwought lots of presents! Maybe he bwought me a baby!” Hope said, suddenly remembering her dreams.

“A baby?” Emma questioned.

“Mhmm. I want a baby. Like I’m Henwy’s baby. I want a baby.” Hope explained.

“Like a baby brother or sister?”

“Yeah! Henwy says he likes being a big brother. I want to be a big sister!” Emma looked at her husband. He smiled at his girls, before nodding his head to his wife. This was their perfect opportunity.

“Well, Santa didn’t bring you a baby, but Papa and I have a surprise for you, sweet girl.” Emma began.

“A supwise?!” Hope perked up, her riotous blonde curls falling down her back.

“Your Mama has a baby in her tummy right now, little love,” Killian said gently, stroking his daughter’s hair as she looked intently at her parents.

“In your tummy?”

“Mhmm. Do you want to see?” Emma asked.

“Yeah!” Emma pulled their comforter down to reveal her baby bump. Hope probably also hadn't noticed because she’d been wearing baggy sweaters and coats to hide the baby bump from her parents. Hope placed her tiny hands on her mother’s stomach, curiously observing Emma’s breathing. “There’s a baby in your tummy? When does it come out?”

“The baby will come out of my tummy in the spring. In May, right before you get out of school for the summer,” Emma replied, placing her hands over Hope’s tiny ones.

“Is it a brother or a sister?”

“We don’t know yet, baby. We will get to know so soon at the next doctor’s appointment.”

“The baby has to go to the doctor?!” Hope asked incredulously.

“Well, kind of. Mama has to go to the doctor. The doctor has to check on Mama and the baby,” Killian chimed in. “We had to go to the doctor when you were in Mama’s tummy, too.”

“I was in Mama’s tummy?!”

“Yep. And your Papa would sing you lullabies every night to help you go to sleep.” Emma smiled at her little family.

“Just like you sing me lullabies now Papa! Did you sing to the baby yet?” Hope asked, hands exploring Emma’s stomach and pushing her shirt up over her bump. Hope was too young to remember Snow being pregnant with Margaret Ruth, so she hadn’t really ever been exposed to pregnant women before.

“I’ve sung a little bit, but the baby is still little, so it hasn’t been keeping your Mama up yet. When the baby gets a little bigger, it moves around. When you were big enough and moving around, you sometimes kept your Mama up at night. The only two things that would calm you down enough for Mama to sleep were for me to sing lullabies or for us to sleep on the Jolly Roger. You calmed down because of the waves gently rocking the ship.” Killian explained.

“I moved in your tummy?”

“All. The. Time. You loved kicking me all day long. And sometimes all night long.”

“Has my baby kicked you?” Hope asked, finally tearing her eyes away from her mother’s stomach and looking at her face.

“Your baby?”

“I’m Henwy’s baby, so this is my baby,” Hope said matter-of-factly.

“What about my babies?” Emma questioned the four-year-old’s logic.

“We are all your babies, Mama!” Hope giggled in response.

“Ahh, I see. And no, the baby hasn’t kicked yet. Maybe in a few weeks it will.”

“But if the baby is not kickin’ you, why you so sweepy?”

“Because that is just what happens. The baby has to grow a lot. It starts out smaller than the nail on your pinky finger and it gets as big as your baby doll. Then once the baby is out of my belly, it will get as big as Margaret Ruth, and you, and Neal, and Henry and even bigger, just like you are going to get bigger. But the baby is growing a lot, so I have to eat more for the baby, and it makes me tired when the baby is growing,” Emma attempted to explain. Hope nodded in understanding before sliding herself down so her face was right in front of the baby bump.

“Hi, baby! I’m Hope! I’m gonna be a big sister! Don’t make Mama too tired today, it’s Chwistmas! And we are gonna see Henwy and Grandma and Grandpa and Neal and Ruthie!”

“Hope, Grandpa and Grandma and Neal and Margaret Ruth don’t know about the baby yet. We have to tell them. Do you think you could help us tell them in a little bit?” Killian asked.

“Gwandma doesn’t know?! She knows everything!”

“Tell me about it, kid,” Emma said.

“I wanna tell them! I wanna tell them!” Hope exclaimed, before beginning to jump up and down on the bed.

“Be careful!” Emma and Killian said in unison.

“We have to be very careful with Mama because of the baby right now, little love,” Killian said gently.

“Sowwy Mama!”

“It’s alright sweet girl. Do you want to wake Henry up so we can get ready to go to Grandma and Grandpa’s?” Emma asked. Hope practically leaped off the bed and ran for the door, a “yes!” coming from her before she rounded the corner towards Henry’s room.

“Well, that went well,” Emma said sleepily, curling herself into Killian’s arms. Killian embraced his wife, blunt arm going around her back and his hand finding its place on her stomach once again.

“Aye, love. I told you there’d be nothing to worry about. Our girl loves her baby dolls and is practically your sister’s older sister. Everything will be fine. And I think your parents will be pleasantly surprised later,” Killian replied. They snuggled together in the stillness of the December morning for several more minutes, until Hope could again be heard down the hallway talking animatedly to Henry about babies and tummies.

-------CS-------

“Alright remember Hope- the baby is a secret until we tell you. Then you can tell Grandma and Grandpa,” Henry said, reminding his sister of their plan once more as they pulled up to the Nolan’s farmhouse. The house was decorated for Christmas with lights and garland lining the massive covered front porch.

“I ‘member!” Hope said, eagerly looking out the window at her grandparents’ house. “And it's a secret from Neal and Ruthie, too!”

“That’s right. It’s like how our play was a secret. We can’t tell them until Mama or Papa tells you. You did so good keeping the play a secret.”

“I’ll be good! I pwomise!” Hope said as Emma parked their car. When they were pregnant with Hope, Emma, and Killian had ventured out of Storybrooke looking for a newer and nicer car for their growing family. They decided on a new Subaru Outback, with 5 seats and plenty of safety features for their icy and snowy winters in Maine. The family got out of the car and made their way up the front steps before knocking and entering the warm house.

“Mmmm,” Emma said, smelling the aroma of spices and freshly baked goods in the foyer. “Mom, I have no idea what you’re making, but it smells so good.”

“Thanks, sweetheart! I just took the sourdough out of the oven! Should be perfect with the eggs your father is finishing up.” Snow replied, not leaving her spot in the kitchen. Emma, Killian, Henry, and Hope removed their boots and coats in the mudroom before venturing further into the house. Neal and Margaret Ruth came down the stairs in nice clothes, ready for the inevitable family photo. The children greeted each other before Neal made his way to his sister.

“Ems! Merry Christmas!” Neal greeted, giving Emma a big hug. Because he was ten, Neal’s head was at Emma’s abdomen height. In the tight hug, Neal realized something was impacting his ability to hug his sister. “Ems?” Neal questioned quietly, looking up from her shirt to Emma’s face. She just smiled before quietly telling him she would tell him later. He nodded before smiling at his older sister, going back in for a second hug. Snow finally made her way out of the kitchen to greet her daughter’s family, giving everyone hugs. Emma made sure she didn’t get too tight of a hug from her mother. She desperately tried to make it until Hope told her parents their little secret after breakfast.

They ate breakfast together in the dining room, talking animatedly about different things going on in their lives, specifically, about Henry’s play from the previous night.

“Henry, you just did such an incredible job. I have no idea how you pulled it off. I know we all loved it. We got to relive my love story with your grandfather, and a part of your mother’s love story. It was just really special. There’s a reason you are the writer,” Snow complimented.

“Thanks, Grandma. I thought you would like it,” Henry beamed. After breakfast, the adults helped clean up before they moved into the living room to open presents from each other.

“Alright, Hope. Come here,” Emma said after over an hour of opening presents. All the presents had been opened, so it was the perfect time for Hope to make their announcement. Hope followed her mother’s directions before Emma whispered in her ear.

“Okay, Mama,” Hope whispered back, grinning at her parents and Henry. She turned around to her grandparents who were sitting on another couch before skipping over to them.

“Gwandma and Gwandpa, there’s one more present!” Hope excitedly shared.

“There is? There’s nothing else under the tree sweetheart,” Snow said, looking from their vibrant Christmas tree to her granddaughter.

“It’s not under the tree silly!” Hope giggled. Snow and Charming looked more confused, but let Hope finish. “It’s from Mama! There’s a baby in her tummy right now!” The little girl shrieked. It took approximately 1.3 seconds for Snow to catch on before she jumped up off the couch screaming in excitement.

“I knew it! I knew something was going on! OH! I’m SO excited for you Emma! Another baby?! How wonderful is that!” Snow squealed, forcing Emma to stand before embracing her in a very tight hug.

“Mom. A little tight,” Emma muttered.

“Oh! Sorry! I’m just so excited! And you!” Snow said, turning to her husband. “You have to do the dishes for a month. I told you!” Snow bragged triumphantly.

“You made a bet that I was pregnant?” Emma questioned.

“Of course! You were just being so suspicious! The weird appetite? Wanting to eat more? The tiredness? Dear, you were a classic case!” Snow babbled. “And you weren’t telling me anything whenever I asked. That was a surefire sign!” Snow embraced her eldest again, before hugging her son-in-law.

“I’m so happy for you both!” Snow gushed. David had gotten over his initial shock, sure Killian would have told him earlier that they were pregnant again, and gathered Emma in his arms. One hand went around her back, and his other hand held her head like he always did when giving his daughter a comforting embrace.

“Congratulations, Emma. I don’t know how you continue to make me proud to be your father, but I am so happy for you, and I am so proud of you. I can’t wait to have another grandchild.” David said in Emma’s ear during their embrace.

“Thanks, Dad. It means a lot, and we’re both really excited,” Emma replied. David let go of his daughter before turning to his son-in-law (and best friend).

“I’m a little hurt you didn’t tell me earlier, especially when I specifically asked you how Emma was doing. But, I understand, and I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks, Dave. We wanted to present it as a surprise for Christmas,” Killian said, hugging his mate. David quickly wiped tears from under his eyes trying to appear strong in front of his family.

“Dad? Are you crying?” Emma asked, perplexed.

“Yeah, I just-. It’s something special to see your daughter growing up and being happy, Seeing you happy with Killian and with your growing family, it’s everything I wanted for you and more.” David’s comment brought a fresh layer of tears to Emma’s eyes, and she burrowed herself in her father’s arms once more.

“I’m glad you are in my life, Dad. You too, Mom. Merry Christmas. I didn’t realize I was going to get so emotional,” Emma said, wiping the tears from her eyes as she looked towards all of her family.

“Love, you’re four and a half months pregnant. Of course, you were going to get emotional.” Killian said, face broken out in a permanent smile.

“Four and a half months?!” shrieked Snow. Emma was never going to live down the fact that she hid her pregnancy from her mother for over four months, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. Her parents were emotional soon-to-be grandparents for the third time. Her siblings looked excited and were already talking with Hope about “her baby in Mama’s tummy”, and Henry just looked proud. She sure was proud of her kid, and thankful that he was so supportive of her and Killian growing their little family. Then there was her husband. Killian had rarely looked happier, except maybe when she told him she was pregnant with Hope or the day Hope was born. Gone was the rough-around-the-edges great pirate captain. A loving, kind, generous, and supportive man stood in his place, and Emma couldn’t ask for a better friend, husband, or father for her children.

It was a Merry Christmas, indeed.

11 notes · View notes

whimsicallyenchantedrose · 7 months ago

Text

Christmas Reruns 2024–Day 31: New Year, New Town

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t! One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia. A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns. So here you go! Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Word Count: 1915

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: Taking place sometime not long before grown up Henry calls for Hook, Regina and Emma to come to his aid in the alternate Enchanted Forest in 7x2, the residents of Storybrooke are living out their Happy Beginnings. With New Years approaching, Regina and Snow decide it’s time for a new town wide initiative. Emma and Killian use the occasion to make a special announcement of their own.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Good morning, Beautiful. How was your night?” Killian crooned softly as he leaned down to kiss Emma’s cheek, his hand softly caressing her shoulder.

Emma smiled as she slowly opened her eyes and turned over to meet her husband’s adoring gaze. She’d introduced him to the song a few months ago, and ever since then, he’d woken her up to it nearly every morning.

They’d been married for five years now, and yet Killian could still make her stomach swoop like a teenager with her first crush. It should be illegal for someone to be so romantic.

Emma sat up, ran a hand through her riotous curls, and then pulled Killian down for a long, slow kiss. Life was good. Life was really good.

Killian pulled away with a reluctant groan. “I’ll never complain about a good morning greeting like that, my love, but if we continue on in this manner, we’ll never make the city council meeting on time.”

Emma groaned. “You sure we can’t just skip it? It’s New Year’s Eve; I’d much rather just stay here in bed with you.”

“Likewise darling,” Killian said with one more smacking kiss to her lips before he threw back the covers and got to his feet, “but you know neither Regina nor your mother would ever let us get away with that given their New Year, New Town initiative.”

Emma groaned again. “Oh yeah, that. Can’t wait”

About a month ago, just after Thanksgiving, Regina and Snow had called a special town council meeting.

“We’ve been Big Bad free for five years now,” Regain began without preamble, staring down each of the members of the council, “and you’d think that would mean our town would be nearly perfect, by now, but that is not the case. I’ve still had to deal with the same petty squabbles as I’ve always had to, and I think it’s high time we do something about it.”

“Just what kind of squabbles we talking about ‘your majesty’?” Leroy asked, scowling fiercely

“Well, for one thing, I think we would all appreciate it if you’d lay off the threats of a lawsuit everytime someone eats the last of Granny’s bacon before you get there.”

“I have always tried to get as much bacon as I possibly could, and my brothers all know it”, Leroy argued. “They double cross me at the diner counter, they know what to expect.”

Regina rolled her eyes and looked on the point of retorting back, which Snow quickly stepped in.

“The point is not to point fingers at any one person,” she said. “The point is that I think we all have things about ourselves that we could change in order to become the best versions of ourselves.”

“So, Lady Snow, what particularly are you and the queen proposing?” Killian asked.

“As you all well know, the holiday season is just now ramping up, and before you know it, it will be Christmas and then New Years,” Snow explained. “Regina and I were talking over tea one day, and we had a thought. New Years is the time for resolutions. What if we–all of us–the whole town–made new year’s resolutions to make our town a better, friendlier town?”

“We’ll call it the ‘New Year, New Town’ initiative,” Regina said in her typical no nonsense tone. “It will, of course, be compulsory for all residents of Storybrooke.”

There was a general groan among the council as everyone began talking at once. Regina banged her gavel, finally restoring quiet to the council room.

“While I personally don’t think New Year’s resolutions are a bad thing,” Archie said, “I do have questions about how it would work practically, though. Surely you can see that forcing the town to make New Year’s resolutions is a bit heavy-handed, even for you.”

“Not happening, Sister,” Leroy tossed in.

“For once, I have to agree with the dwarf,” Killian tossed in. “No bloody way in Hades you will get the town–or even most on this committee–to go along with such an authoritarian scheme.”

Regina sighed in exasperation. “Listen Captain Guyliner…”

Snow stepped in again before things could further devolve. “Okay, maybe we can’t make it compulsory, but I was thinking, we could have incentives. You know, get pledges from various businesses for prizes for anyone who makes and keeps their resolutions until the end of the year. Make it a fun, citywide competition. That sort of thing.”

After a fair bit more debate, the council finally voted six to five–with Regina, Snow, David, Archie, Whale and Marco voting aye and Zelena, Emma, Killian, Leroy and Granny voting nay–to implement the initiative. Emma had been on the fence about the whole thing, but what finally tipped her to the “nay” side, was Regina’s final decree.

“There is one thing I must insist upon,” Regina said. “If we can’t force the entire town to comply with the initiative, we must at least stand in solidarity in our efforts to encourage full participation. To that end, I move that the initiative be compulsory for the members of the council.”

Another groan around the room.

“What’s stopping everyone from just making self-serving resolutions?” Whale asked.

“Well….” Snow began slowly. “Now just hear me out!”

No statement that started like that could ever end well.

“Regina and I discussed that, and we came up with a plan that we think is fair for everyone,” she said. “We, the council, have a say in each other’s resolutions. Everyone is free to submit resolution ideas for each other, and then on New Year’s Eve, we hold a vote to determine what each person will focus on next year.”

That suggestion got more than a little pushback, but in the end, it was reluctantly adopted.

And so here they were, New Year’s Eve morning, making their way to town hall to decide upon and commit to their resolutions for the coming year.

Emma took a deep, calming breath, as she and Killian took their seats at the council table. Killian took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze offering her his support and strength. She couldn’t care less what the council had decided for her resolution; the whole thing was ridiculous anyway. What did have her nervous and excited and a little freaked out was the plan she and Killian had come up with just before Christmas when they learned the news. Fact was, it was a big deal, a really, really big deal.

Regina, dressed in her customary power suit, banged her gavel against the table to quiet the gathered council and call the meeting to order.

“Okay, as it’s New Year’s Eve, and I’m sure we all have better places to be, let’s go ahead and get to it,” she said.

“Here’s how it will work,” Snow said eagerly. “Everyone will vote on the proposed resolutions via secret ballot. The ballots will be tabulated, and then each one of you will be given an envelope with the list of suggested resolutions the council proposed. The one picked for you will be listed at the top in red.”

“And if we refuse to go along with that one?” Leroy asked, crossing his arms and scowling fiercely.

“We aren’t unreasonable,” Snow said in answer. “If you can’t go along with your top choice, you have the option to choose one of the other selections on your list.”

Voting and tabulation were rather quick affairs, and within fifteen minutes the results were in.

“Just to get you all to stop bitching about this and see that it’s not that big of a deal, I’ll go first,” Regina said, taking her own envelope. Taking her letter opener, she neatly slit the top of the envelope and pulled the single sheet of paper free. Taking a moment to read through it, Regina scoffed. “‘Cut back on snarkiness and insulting nicknames’? Really? I don’t–”

“Oh yes you do, your majesty,” Killian said. “I’ve lost count of the number of times you’ve called me some variation of ‘Handless Wonder’ or ‘Captain Guyliner’.”

“Oh, did I hurt your little feelings?” Regina snapped.

“Aaaannd there’s the snark,” Emma commented.

“Fine!” Regina said, “just to prove to all of you that I’m serious about making this initiative work, I’ll accept your stupid resolution.”

With the first resolution reveal out of the way, the rest went rather smoothly. Snow resolved to refrain from revealing secrets (although Emma personally preferred the resolution Killian had submitted for her mom: Call before coming over to your daughter and son-in-law’s house). David resolved to make time for his mates now that his farm was taking up so much of his time. Zelena resolved to cut out envy from her life. Leroy resolved to stop running through the town yelling “terrible news!” about anything less than a full blown emergency. Whale resolved to stop drinking while on duty. Archie resolved to actually get a medical degree not given to him from a curse. Granny resolved to replace the uncomfortable mattresses in her inn. And Marco resolved to take classes to bring his woodworking business into the twenty-first century.

Finally, it was down to just Emma and Killian. The moment of truth.

Emma stood up, and without even looking at what was written on her envelope said, “I resolve to be the best mother I can possibly be and to learn all I can about how to care for a newborn.”

She was met with blank, confused stares as she sat down and Killian rose to make his announcement.

“And I’d like to address my resolution directly to Dave,” he said with a cheeky grin. “Mate, my resolution for next year is to not get your daughter pregnant….again.”

For a moment the blank stares continued until suddenly Snow gasped. “Emma….Killian? Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Emma stood, and laced her fingers with Killian’s as her smile bloomed and a tear fell from the corner of her eye. “If you think we’re saying you’re about to be a grandma again, then yes. We found out on Christmas Eve. It finally happened! I’m pregnant!”

Later that night, after the ball dropped and the new year came in amid fireworks and cheers, Emma settled in bed in Killian’s embrace.

“How are you feeling, love?” he asked, holding her to him and nuzzling her neck. “Is the little one causing any distress?”

“At the moment all is well,” Emma said. “Now in the morning when the nausea hits like a ton of bricks I might have a different answer, but for right now, everything feels just about perfect.”

Killian placed his hand on her belly and rubbed gently, his attempt, she knew, to caress their growing child. “Something tells me this new year is going to be our best one yet.”

“Something tells me the same thing, babe,” Emma said.

They fell silent for another moment before Emma broke the silence with a chuckle. “How long do you think it will take for the council to realize we totally blew off their resolutions for us?”

#cs fanfiction #cs christmas reruns 2024 #my fanfiction #new year new town

6 notes · View notes

whimsicallyenchantedrose · 7 months ago

Text

Christmas Reruns 2024–Day 30: New York Christmas Serenade (4/4)

Word Count: 1803

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 31

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

CS Genre: Canon Divergence (missing year between 3a and 3b)

“Hey Hook,” Henry said from his spot at the kitchen table a week later. “Tonight’s the big night! The moment of truth!”

Killian looked around in alarm, afraid Swan had overheard the lad’s impetuous words.

“Don’t worry,” Henry said, noting the direction of his gaze. “She’s not here. She had a quick bowl of cereal and then headed out after her latest skip. She said she had a really promising lead.”

Killian nodded in relief. Tonight might be the moment of truth; the moment he took a chance; the moment he tested the lad’s theory that Swan had feelings for him as well, but he wished to remain as circumspect as possible until the big moment.

One week prior, on Christmas Eve, Killian and Henry had remained awake long after Swan retired for the night.

“You remember, Henry?” Killian asked, as soon as Emma entered her bed chamber. “Truly?”

“Yeah!” Henry said. “I remember everything—Storybrooke, my other mom, Neverland, Pan’s curse, everything! Killian how did you get to us?”

“Never mind the details, lad,” Killian said, waving off the question he was not yet ready to answer. “Suffice it to say it’s a wonder what one can accomplished when he is sufficiently motivated.”

“And you wanted to get back to mom.”

“In part,” Killian said, “but I’m afraid there’s a far more pressing concern. A curse.”

“Again?” Henry asked, with a sigh. “Who cast it this time?”

Killian shrugged. “I’ve no idea. I…found myself separated from the group quite soon after our return to the Enchanted Forest. I’ve no idea what your grandparents and the others got mixed up in after I left.”

“Then how did you know to come for us?”

“I received a missive, perhaps from your grandmother,” Killian said. “I set about securing passage back to your realm the moment I read the news. I know nothing aside from the fact that the entire realm has once again been transported to Storybrooke. I can only assume the need for your mother’s savior services is quite urgent.”

“So let’s wake mom up, tell her what’s going on,” Henry said. “We could be headed back to Storybrooke as soon as this snowstorm stops.”

Killian shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s not as simple as all that, Henry. What do you imagine would be your mother’s reaction should I tell her she’s the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming and she must go back to a town called Storybrooke to break a curse, no doubt cast by a fairy tale villain?”

Henry grimaced. “Good point.”

The two were silent for a moment, and then Henry brightened once again. “I know how you can make mom remember!” he said.

“Aye? What do you propose?”

“True Love’s Kiss.”

Killian sucked in a long breath. “Come again lad?”

“True Love’s Kiss! It can break any curse. It’s perfect! All you have to do is kiss her and she’ll remember who she was,” Henry said.

“Henry…” Killian began.

“No, really!” Henry said. “You love my mom, don’t you?”

“Aye, more than you know, but at present your mother doesn’t even know me, let alone love me.”

“Well that’s no problem,” Henry said. “I think she was starting to have feelings for you back in Storybrooke. All you have to do is get her to fall in love with you again! We could call it…Operation Captain Swan!”

Was that all he must do?

Killian had to admit to more than a bit of skepticism in his ability to win Swan’s heart in a short period of time, but as no other solution occurred to either of them, Killian finally agreed to the plan.

It was a two-pronged approach.

Over the ensuing week Henry and Killian worked in tandem to help Emma remember her true identity. It was little things—short vignettes from their true lives. Discussions of the storybook. Talk about home and family.

While this was occurring, Killian wooed Emma as tenderly as the most ardent lover—procuring her flowers and small trinkets, preparing her meals, giving her a listening ear, supporting her, praising her, spending quality time with her and Henry.

He was making headway; he knew he was. Sometimes he’d look up and find her gaze on him—happy, speculative, ardent. He knew that look. It was the look of someone falling in love.

Then, of course there was their sleeping arrangement. Killian had spent the first three nights on the couch in Swan’s living quarters, but just after dinner on the evening of the fourth day, Emma approached him, her eyes looking anywhere but at him.

“Look, Killian,” she’d said, after being sure that Henry was otherwise occupied, “I know that couch can’t be comfortable. If you want, you can, you know, share my bed.”

His eyes had widened in shock. Had she just suggested….?

“Just to sleep!” she quickly clarified. “I wasn’t, you know, propositioning you. I just thought..” She shrugged. “I just thought there’s plenty of room in my queen sized bed. If we each keep to our own side it doesn’t have to be awkward.”

Killian grinned slowly, ducked his chin and swaggered in her direction. “Oh I assure you, darling. There would be nothing awkward about it. If you wished to share your bed with me, you needn’t use the excuse of my discomfort on your couch. You need only ask.”

“Killian!” she growled.

He grinned and then sobered. “Thank you for your offer, Swan. I swear to be a perfect gentleman. I’m always a gentleman.”

For a moment, Killian could swear Emma remembered the last time he’d uttered those words—at the top of the beanstalk where their story had begun, but then her eyes had cleared and she’d nodded. “Good,” she said.

But despite her words about remaining separate, the next morning, Killian had woken with Emma in his arms, her head pillowed on his chest, her arms around him, her hair spilling over his arm.

It was pure bliss.

The next night when they retired for bed, Swan had made no mention of the arrangement—or any changes she wished for it. She’d merely lain on her side, reached for him, and pulled his hand around her middle. He’d had the luxury of holding her through the night, this time with her full knowledge and desire.

Aye, Killian was making progress in fulfilling his vow to win her heart; there was no mistake about it, but his progress was far too slow.

“You need to make a big gesture,” Henry finally said on the morning of New Year’s Eve. “Really put all your cards out there. I’ve got the perfect idea.”

“Aye? And what might that be?”

“A New Year’s kiss!” Henry said. “It’s a tradition here in our realm. People kiss each other just as it turns midnight on New Year’s Day. The person you share your New Year’s kiss with is supposed to be with you all year long. It’s perfect.”

Killian had put forth a token protest at first, but he couldn’t deny the idea had merit. He knew his Swan. He knew that she was afraid to give her heart—but he knew she craved love and commitment even more. She held herself at a distance because she feared the people she allowed herself to care for would leave her. Perhaps if he bestowed this “New Year’s kiss” on her, it would show her that he was in this for the long haul; that he would never willingly leave her.

Aye, tonight would be the night.

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Emma settled on the sofa, pulled her legs up beneath her, and ducked under Killian’s arm. It should scare her how comfortable she’d become with him, how much she’d opened up to him, how very close she was to giving her heart to him. It should terrify her and make her run as fast as she could in the opposite direction.

The thing was…it didn’t scare her. Not at all. It simply felt right.

The room was bathed in darkness save for the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree and the light from the TV.

“So, I’ve been to Times Square for the ball drop a time or two,” Emma explained, “but, I don’t know. It’s overrated. It’s so crowded you can barely move, and it’s freezing…and then trying to get out of the crowd and go home afterward…just more of a headache than it’s worth. Why go through all the trouble when I can just catch it from the comfort of my own living room?”

“I must admit,” Killian said, shooting her a warm look. “I’d far prefer watching these events unfold here, with you in my arms than in that crush of humanity.”

Emma felt her stomach swoop. It was uncanny how Killian Jones managed to say these things—that would sound like the worst of clichés if spoken by anyone else—and make her melt like a pile of goo at his feet. She caught his eye and held it for long moments—she had no idea how long, until Henry caught her attention.

“Hey guys!” he said, “pay attention! They’re going to start the count down any second!”

“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six!…”

The excited crowd had just finished chanting “five” when Emma’s entire world turned on its axis.

“Emma,” Killian said softly, urgently, “I’m in love with you. I love you with everything within me. I’d like nothing better than to spend the remainder of the year, the remainder of my life with you.”

And as the ball dropped amid the shouting crowd, Killian leaned over and joined his lips with hers. For a moment, Emma sat frozen, and then she was kissing him back, caressing his stubbled cheek, running a hand through his hair, moving so close she was nearly in his lap.

Emma felt the strangest energy bubble up within her, and suddenly it burst from her—burst from both of them, forming something resembling a rainbow colored shock wave.

Emma pulled away with a gasp, memories rushing in one after another. “Hook!” she said, finally. “I remember!”

On the other side of the room Henry cheered, pumping his fist in the air. “Yes!”

Beside her, Killian grinned. “Miss me?”

“What do you think?” Emma asked…just before kissing him so thoroughly Henry was soon making gagging sounds on his side of the room.

Over the next several years there would be plenty of curses to break, villains to defeat, even time to travel through, but during that night, that magical night when Emma and Killian shared True Love’s Kiss, nothing could have dampened their spirits. With the magic of the night and the magic of their love, Emma knew whoever cast the latest curse didn’t stand a chance.

NEXT CHAPTER->

#cs fanfiction #cs christmas reruns #my fanfiction #new york christmas serenade

6 notes · View notes

whimsicallyenchantedrose · 7 months ago

Text

366 Days of Killian Jones [304/366]

140 notes · View notes

whimsicallyenchantedrose · 7 months ago

Text

Christmas Reruns 2024–Day 29: New York Christmas Serenade (3/4)

Word Count: 1816

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 30 31

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

CS Genre: Canon Divergence (missing year between 3a and 3b)

“Mom! Wake up!” Henry said, shaking her shoulder. “It’s Christmas morning!”

Emma groaned as she woke up. It was early. Way too early. By the look of the sky from her bedroom window, it would still be Christmas morning for another several hours yet. It could barely even be called dawn.

“Alright, Kid, I’m up,” she said on a yawn, reaching for her robe and slippers. “I know you’re all about opening the rest of your presents, but you’re going to have to wait for the coffee to brew. You know I’m not awake before I’ve had my first two cups.”

“Don’t worry about that!” Henry said, “Killian already made coffee. Now he’s working on breakfast.”

Emma froze. Killian. How had she forgotten the handsome stranger was still there?

Not long after Henry opened his gifts, Emma had glanced out the window to see it snowing with a vengeance. Turning on the TV, she quickly found out why. They were in the opening stages of a monster blizzard.

Emma shot Killian a concerned look. “You have a place to stay?” she asked. “Your home close?”

“I’m afraid not, love,” Killian said. “I’ve yet to secure lodgings for myself. It’s no matter, though. I’ve weathered many a storm.”

The thought of turning him out into the blizzard had seemed beyond heartless. Who let a guest of theirs go out and freeze to death in a blizzard? Particularly one her son seemed to have an inexplicable bond with—especially after getting that storybook? Particularly one she felt such a tie to.

“Look,” she’d said stiffly. “It’s nasty out there. If you want, you can crash on our couch. Can’t guarantee it’s the most comfortable bed you’ll ever sleep on, but it’s bound to be better than wandering around on the streets of New York in the middle of a blizzard, right?”

His eyes had lit up as though she’d offered him the best gift of his life. “It would be an honor to sleep on your couch, Swan,” he’d said in wonder. “You’ve no idea how much it means to me that you’ve offered.”

Now, in the (still barely there) light of day, Emma began to second guess her magnanimous gesture. What did she even know about this Killian guy really? What kind of a mother lets a strange guy—who could be a serial killer for all she knew—crash on her couch with her son in the apartment.

You’re safe with him. He’d never harm you.

Now where had that thought come from? It made no sense that she’d know that, but somehow she could feel the truth of the statement all the way to her bones. Killian Jones was no threat to her or to Henry.

(Well…except perhaps to her heart. Only one night in the man’s company—one very platonic night—and she could already feel herself falling for him. What was with her? Emma Swan did not get crushes like that! She had her heart locked up as tightly as Fort Knox. No way she lets feelings in!)

Emma took a tentative step from her bedroom and couldn’t help the groan of appreciation that escaped her. It smelled amazing out there. Coffee—strong coffee from the scent of it—percolating, bacon sizzling, pancakes on the griddle. She took it back. Not only was Killian no threat to her, she may have to just invite him to live with the two of them.

“Morning love,” He called with a cheery smile—how did he look that chipper after only getting a few hours of sleep on a lumpy sofa? “I trust you slept well?”

“What little amount of time the kid let me sleep,” she said on a yawn. “He’s lucky it’s Christmas or no way I’d let him get away with waking me up at the butt crack of dawn.”

Killian chuckled. “No I suppose not. I know full well a man is taking his life in his hands when he wakes you. There was one morning on Never…er…I mean…you look like someone who enjoys her sleep.”

“Nice recovery,” Henry said under his breath. “Making her think you’re crazy is definitely not how you make headway with Operation Captain Swan.”

“Never? Operation Captain Swan?” Emma asked in bewilderment. “What are the two of you talking about? How do you know my sleeping habits? And when did you and Henry suddenly become best friends? ”

“Not to worry, Swan,” Killian said, scratching away at that spot on his neck again. “This morning the lad merely told me that the way to your heart is through your stomach.”

“The way to my…Are you…are you saying you want to get to my heart?” No way she was telling him that very organ was pounding so hard at the very notion she was surprised he couldn’t hear it.

In a blink Killian’s embarrassment faded away to be replaced by pure flirtatious mischief. “Oh darling. You have no idea,” he purred.

She held his gaze for as long as she could (which…ended up being less than five seconds), and then she hid behind her favorite defense—sarcasm. “Yeah, well, you gonna take that bacon out of the pan or just let it burn while you act like an idiot?”

He shot her a wounded look. “Of course I had no intention of burning your victuals, Swan! It took me quite some time to determine the proper way to utilize your cooking box, and now that I have, I have no intention of ruining a perfectly good breakfast.”

“It’s called a stove, Hook,” Henry muttered under his breath.

Seriously, when did the two of them become all buddy-buddy? And where was this guy from that he didn’t even know what a stove was?

She had no further time to ponder the big questions of her life, though, as Killian slid a plate of food and a mug of coffee in her direction. At the first bite, Emma moaned in ecstasy. The man could cook.

Looking up, she caught the positively sinful look in Killian’s eye. “I quite like that sound Darling. Perhaps I might endeavor to elicit it once more…sometime when we’re alone.”

“La, la, la,” Henry said, sticking his fingers in his ears. “Kid in the room guys!”

Emma felt her face flame, so she did the only reasonable thing, she turned a withering glare at the idiot in leather currently seated at the head of the table. “In your dreams Jones.”

“You have no idea.”

Emma glared again, expecting to see the same sinful look in his eyes, but what she found instead floored her. Pure, unvarnished longing. It was the look of a man desperately in love. One who feared he’d never have a chance with the girl of his dreams.

The look called to her, and she suddenly had the insane urge to reach over, grab his hand and reassure him that he would find happiness one day.

Fortunately her hand closest to Killian was currently occupied shoveling as much food as possible into her mouth.

Breakfast was a short affair, eaten hastily. While Henry was normally a pretty patient kid, waiting to open presents on Christmas morning would test the patience of any kid.

“Why don’t you go get your presents organized,” Emma said, getting to her feet. “I’ll just take care of these dishes and I’ll be there in a sec.”

“Nonsense, Swan,” Killian said with a hand to her arm…a soft pat that felt almost like a caress. “Go have Christmas morning with your son. I’m perfectly capable of righting the galley.”

“You sure? I hate to have you cook breakfast and then stick you with dishes too.”

“Aye,” he said with a tender smile. “Believe me when I say your happiness…yours and your lad’s…ensure my happiness.”

She smiled, impulsively reaching over and squeezing his hand. “Thanks.”

“You are most welcome.”

The following hour passed in a veritable blur, Henry moving from present to present. She supposed maybe she spoiled him with all the Christmas gifts she’d gotten him, but he was such a good kid and so genuinely grateful for everything he got. And then, of course, there was always that little lost girl inside of her that would never forget what it was like to wake up on Christmas morning to a bare tree and a lack of family. If it made her go a little overboard with her kid…that was just the way it was.

Just as the last gift—a brand new journal and gel pen (the kid liked to write)—was unwrapped, the couch seat beside her sagged, and Emma looked over to see Killian by her side. Not only by by her side, but close enough she could feel the heat of his body against her. It was…distracting to say the least.

“Um…” she said, clearing her throat and trying not to sound like a complete fool, “I guess that’s it. The gifts are all unwrapped.”

“Not quite, Swan,” he said in a low, caressing voice. “I’ve one yet to bestow on you.”

“Me?” she asked. “You got me a gift?”

“Aye,” he said with a nod, turning away to rummage through his satchel once again. I saw this and thought of you.”

“Th…thank you,” she said, taking the long, thin velvet-covered box he held out to her. Opening it, she found a diamond and opal pendant in the shape of a swan attached to a fine, silver chain. It was gorgeous.

“I know you don’t remember, love,” he said softly, “but this pendant reminds me of our first adventure…one of the most satisfying adventures of my life, and it belongs with no one but you.”

“The beanstalk!:” Henry said from his place on the floor, still surrounded by his Christmas loot. “It reminds you of the beanstalk.”

“Aye,” Killian said. “That it does indeed.”

It should have been completely nonsensical this conversation her son was having with her…pirate (No! Not her pirate!), but somehow it simply wasn’t. Something deep within her wanted to nod along and agree with them.

Before she could second guess herself, Emma leaned over and impulsively hugged Killian. “Thanks! I love it. And…I mean, it’s still snowing out there. If you, you know, want to keep crashing on the couch for the next few days, I’m okay with that.”

Notes: I wanted to give Emma’s perspective on the things going on, but unfortunately, that didn’t give me an opportunity to show any post-memory gain conversations between Henry and Killian—or explain what Henry meant by “Operation Captain Swan”. Don’t worry, all will be revealed in the fourth (and last) section of this little story.

–Up next: We learn what kind of plots Emma’s boys have hatched to help her remember—and whether or not they’re successful. As New Year’s Eve arrives, Henry tells Killian about a certain midnight-on-New-Year’s-Eve tradition in the Land Without Magic.

NEXT CHAPTER->

#cs fanfiction #cs christmas reruns 2024 #my fanfiction #new york christmas serenade

6 notes · View notes

whimsicallyenchantedrose · 7 months ago

Text

Christmas Reruns 2024–Day 28: New York Christmas Serenade (2/4)

Word Count: 1453

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 29 30 31

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

CS Genre: Canon Divergence (missing year between 3a and 3b)

Killian felt an unaccustomed stab of nervousness flow through him as he walked the steps leading toward Swan’s abode. He knew very little of what was transpiring in Storybrooke, only that the kingdom had once again been transported to the Land Without Magic via a curse and they needed the savior.

Much was riding on Killian’s success in restoring Emma’s memories, and he felt the weight of the responsibility placed upon his shoulders. While he’d have traded away the Jolly and done all in his power to find Swan simply for her own sake, the fact that her parents were counting on him spurred him on even more. It had been centuries since he’d truly belonged anywhere and he had no intention of mucking this up.

Truthfully it was a minor miracle she’d invited him to spend the evening with her and the lad at all, but from what he’d gathered as he’d wandered the streets of this strange place called “New York” Christmas was a time for miracles.

Taking a deep breath, Killian raised his artificial hand and wrapped on her apartment door promptly at 7:00 pm. He tapped his fingers against his leg as he waited, and then suddenly the door was opened and she stood there and literally took his breath away. She wore a soft green sweater that brought out her eyes, jeans and brown boots, her hair was pulled back into a soft pony tail.

“You’re stunning, love,” he said in wonder—almost reverence. His heart rate picked up as he saw her color prettily at the compliment. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear Emma Swan was flustered by his presence in her home.

“Thanks,” she said, “you look pretty good yourself.”

Killian looked down at his black jeans, his blue button down shirt and his leather jacket, glad he’d thought to find attire more suitable to his environs.

“Aye, well..” he said, giving her a flirtatious grin, “I have been called dashingly handsome, love.”

She rolled her eyes but laughed softly, breathily. Killian leaned toward her, drawn to her, wishing nothing more than to repeat their mind-blowing kiss on Neverland. For a moment, Emma leaned forward, lifted her head. Was she actually going to allow him to kiss her?

“Hey guys, are you coming in soon?” came Henry’s voice from the kitchen, “I’m starving.”

And with that the spell was over. Emma took a healthy step back, held onto the door and waved him in. “Yeah, um…” she said, “come in. Dinner’s ready.”

Killian obliged, shedding his jacket and placing it on the rack beside the door. He looked around in interest, admiring the large, open feel of the apartment, impressed with the large, well decorated pine tree in the corner near the windows, enjoying the delectable aromas wafting in from the kitchen.

“It smells tasty, love,” Killian said, taking the seat Henry indicated at the head of the table. “Did you prepare our meal yourself.”

Henry laughed. “Mom doesn’t cook; especially on Christmas! Of any day of the year, we ought to at least have edible food on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.”

“Excuse me?” Emma said feigning great offense. “You better watch yourself, Kid. Santa’s still watching. Don’t want to get on the naughty list.”

Henry grinned. “Hey, I’m only telling the truth. I’d say being honest ought to keep me on the nice list. But seriously, Killian, we had our dinner catered from this little Italian place down the street. They have the best spaghetti and meatballs you’ve ever eaten!”

Killian smiled at the playful ribbing between mother and son. Though he knew his Swan would wish to have her memories and know the truth, he was grateful to the Queen for giving her and the lad such pleasant memories and such a close relationship in their false life.

“I’ve no doubt but that you’re right, Henry,” Killian said, taking the bowl of long, thin pasta Swan passed him. He placed a healthy serving on his place, and then topped it with the red sauce placed before him on the table. “As it happens, this is the first time I’ve ever consumed this particular dish.”

Both Swan and her lad stopped what they were doing and shot him astonished looks. “You’ve never eaten spaghetti and meatballs before?” Henry asked.

“Not even once.”

“Well are you in for a Christmas treat!” Henry assured him as he began to eat with typical preteen gusto.

And as Killian ate his meal of spaghetti and meatballs, salad and garlic bread, he had to admit the lad was correct—although whether it was the deliciousness of the food or the pleasantness of the company he enjoyed most was a matter for some debate. As the evening continued, Swan lost the last hint of her nervous awkwardness and began talking and laughing with him—far more open than she’d ever before been in his presence.

After dinner, Killian followed the lad into the living room to choose a movie for the evening, after which came a ritual that left Henry nearly writhing in excitement.

“We open most of our gifts on Christmas morning,” Emma told Killian as Henry rushed toward the tree, carefully picking up each of the brightly wrapped packages which bore his name, shaking them, looking them over, weighing them in his hands, “but a few years ago, the kid talked me into starting a Swan family tradition of him getting one of his presents on Christmas Eve. Choose carefully, kid.”

And suddenly, with the mention of gifts for the occasion of Christmas, Killian came up with a plan. What if he was able to jog the lad’s memories? With Henry on his side, perhaps the two of them could find a way to remind Emma who she truly was.

Killian grinned as Henry opened his chosen gift. The lad’s enthusiasm and exuberance were contagious.

“The video game I wanted!” Henry said as soon as the bright, colorful paper was ripped away. “Thanks mom! This is great!”

Emma ruffled his hair. “No problem kid,” she said. “And just you wait. You may be an expert at the other games, but I’m determined I’m going to beat you at this one!”

“Sounds like a challenge to me, lad,” Killian said teasingly, reaching over to playfully squeeze Swan’s shoulder from her perch beside him on the couch. “Are you going to let it go unanswered?”

“No way!” Henry said. “You’ll see, mom! You may be good catching real bad guys, but I’ve got the video bad guys quaking in their boots! Can I play it now? Please?”

Before Emma could answer, Killian put a up his artificial hand. “Just a moment, lad,” he said. “If you please, I have my own gifts to bestow.”

“Killian,” Emma said, looking over at him, “you didn’t need to…”

“Nonsense, love,” he answered. “You were so kind as to allow me to share your holiday. The least I can do is offer a few small tokens of my gratitude.”

“Seriously, we don’t expect…” Emma began again, but this time she was interrupted by her son.

“Did you bring me something?” he asked Killian, stepping up to him.

“Indeed I did, lad,” Killian said, reaching for his satchel. “If I don’t miss my guess, you have the heart of a true believer. The truest believer, even. I thought perhaps you might find joy in perusing the stories of other heroes and believers.”

With a flourish, Killian pulled Henry’s old storybook from his bag and presented it to the boy. It was this book that had ignited Henry’s belief the first time. Was it possible the item would do the trick for a second time?

Henry accepted the offering, muttering a quick “Thank you,” before peering in confusion at the tome.

“A storybook?” Henry asked, brow furrowed.

“Aye,” Killian said, “a storybook, but I hope you’ll find it so very much more. Go on lad, open it.”

Killian watched eagerly as Henry opened the book to the story of his grandparents. He hadn’t long to wait. Henry couldn’t have read more than a paragraph before his eyes got wide as saucers and he quickly looked up at Killian.

“Hook!” he said slowly. “I…I remember!”

Waves of relief covered Killian like a blanket. He may still have quite the uphill task in front of him, but for the first time since finding his beloved Swan in her apartment home, Killian knew without a doubt that he would.

–Up next: Emma wakes up on Christmas morning—and ends up spending a very pleasant full day with both her son and the pirate she doesn’t yet remember she had feelings for.

NEXT CHAPTER->

#cs fanfiction #cs christmas reruns 2024 #my fanfiction #new york christmas serenade

7 notes · View notes

whimsicallyenchantedrose · 7 months ago

Text

Christmas Reruns 2024–Day 27: New York Christmas Serenade (1/4)

Word Count: 1346

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 28 29 30 31

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Written in 2016, this CS canon divergence is a re-imagining of what New York City Serenade might have looked like if Killian had found Emma’s NY apartment just before Christmas. Can the magic of the season help Killian bring back Emma’s and Henry’s memories?

CS Genre: Canon Divergence (missing year between 3a and 3b)

A/N: I don’t really know what time of year it was when Killian showed up at Emma’s New York apartment door, but for the sake of this canon divergence, I’m saying he showed up the day before Christmas Eve.

Emma shouldn’t complain; she really shouldn’t. She had a job she loved, she had a roof over her head (a really nice roof at that), plenty of food to eat, a son she loved more than she thought it was possible to love another person, and it was the day before Christmas Eve. She should be perfectly happy.

But she couldn’t help but think something was missing.

At first she thought she was just dealing with the inevitable melancholy that comes after the breakup of a longtime (well…longtime for her. When you’re used to one night stands, having a boyfriend for eight months seems like an eternity) relationship, but that wasn’t quite it. Honestly? She’d barely even thought about Walsh since she broke up with him just before Halloween. He’d been okay she guessed, but…well, there was no spark there.

No, it was more than breakup blues. It felt more like loneliness. She glanced over her shoulder at Henry who sat at the breakfast table garnishing their mugs of hot cocoa with both cinnamon and little mini candy canes (in honor of the season), and the guilt hit. She loved Henry, of course she did, but she couldn’t help but feel like someone…maybe several someones…were missing.

Emma had just passed a plate of chocolate chip pancakes to an excited Henry when the knock came at her apartment door. That was…odd.

“We expecting someone?” Henry asked, already beginning to dig into his breakfast.

“No,” she said, her brow furrowed. “Just…stay here kid while I see what this is all about.”

Emma didn’t know what she expected to see when she opened her door, but a pirate in full black leather and guyliner wasn’t it. Nor did she expect the look of utter joy—like she’d just given him the best Christmas gift in the world—that crossed his face at the sight of her.

“Swan,” he breathed, blue eyes lighting up. “At last.”

The pirate stepped forward, looking like he was about to embrace her. For a moment, her mind went blank. There was something familiar about this man, although she was pretty sure she’d remember meeting him before. Aside from his odd choice of clothing, he was hot. Not just kind of hot. Like burn-all-of-New-York-to-the-ground hot.

For half a second, she almost let him envelope her in a hug, and then common sense returned. Emma Swan did not just stand there and let crazy guys touch her. She put a hand to his chest, warding him off. “Do I know you?” she asked in a voice she determinedly made hard and unyielding.

“I’m…an old friend,” he said. He wasn’t being entirely truthful, though he wasn’t lying either…not exactly. What was going on here?

“Look, Swan,” he said urgently, taking a tiny step forward once more, “I know you don’t remember me, but I need you to trust me. Your family is in great danger. They need you; they need the savior.”

“Look buddy,” Emma said, “I don’t know who you are or what kind of delusions you have, but my whole family is right there at that breakfast table. My son is the only one who needs me.”

“You simply don’t remember, love,” he began, “I can help you…”

“It’s time for you to go,” she said, giving a little push to his chest until he’d crossed her threshold, “go peddle your crazy to someone else.”

With that she shut the door in his protesting face.

“Who was that?” Henry asked around a bite of pancake.

“No idea,” Emma said.

“Really?” Henry asked. “Are you sure? It’s just…something about him seems really familiar.”

“Must be a coincidence,” Emma said with a shrug as she sat down to her breakfast. “But enough about psychos who show up at our door. Let’s talk about the weekend! We’ve got a lot of Christmas-ing to fit into the next three days that I have off. What do you want to do first?”

Emma tried to forget the handsome pirate, she truly did. She tried to forget him as she and Henry went ice skating. She tried to forget him as they rolled out Christmas cookies and cut them into festive shapes. She tried to forget him while Henry played his video game and she covertly wrapped his presents. She tried to forget him when she and Henry sat down to watch Elf that night. She tried to forget him as she lay in her big, lonely bed.

But somehow mystery pirate man wouldn’t leave her thoughts no matter what she did. When she woke up on Christmas Eve morning after having a weird dream where she and the pirate guy were in this weird jungle place and she kissed the living daylights out of him, she gave up. Clearly she was going to get no peace until she found him again and heard him out, found out what the hell he’d meant by “your family needs you”.

As luck would have it, Emma didn’t even need to dig into her bail bonds person bag of tricks to locate her target. She’d promised Henry she’d take him to the zoo in Central Park that day to see the Christmas festivities. And who should she see sitting on a park bench just outside the zoo’s entrance, but pirate man?

The man got to his feet as soon as she was in sight. “Emma!” he said in excitement. “Fancy seeing you here, love.”

“Seriously?” she asked, adding extra briskness to her voice to counteract the way the butterflies had started to swoop in her stomach the moment she saw him. “You are a stalker.”

“Not at all,” he said. “It was you who followed me here. Perhaps you, Swan are the stalker here, aye?” Turning to her left, the man nodded at her son. “Henry! Good to see you! Enjoying your Christmas holidays?”

Henry gave the man a suspicious glance and then broke into a smile. “Yeah, it’s been great! Three full days with mom before she has to go back to work…amazing! But…do I know you?”

The man ruffled his hair. “I’d wager not, at least not to your knowledge. Killian Jones at your service, lad!”

“Cool! Where’d ya get the pirate costume?”

The man looked down at himself and then shrugged. “I’ve been wearing this attire for such a long time I don’t recall where I acquired it.”

“So, Killian, would you like to come to our apartment for Christmas Eve tonight?” Henry asked before Emma could stop him. “We’ll light up the tree and watch Christmas movies and hang our stockings and everything.”

The man…Killian…shot her a questioning glance. “I don’t wish to impose on your family traditions, lad, but if your mother doesn’t object I’d like nothing in all the realms more than to accept your invitation.”

For long moments, Emma stood in indecision. Her brain was screaming at her to run away as fast as possible. People did not invite strange men dressed in crazy attire into their homes—not unless they had a strange desire to be murdered, that is. But her heart…well, her heart kept (illogically) insisting that not only could she trust this Killian Jones, somehow she actually knew him.

What came out of her mouth surprised even her. “Sure. Come by the apartment around 7?”

But really, no one should be alone on Christmas Eve, should they?

Killian’s brows rose almost to his hairline. Safe to say that was not the answer he was expecting either. “I shall look forward to it, love.”

NEXT CHAPTER->

#cs fanfiction #cs christmas reruns 2024 #my fanfiction #new york christmas serenade

8 notes · View notes

whimsicallyenchantedrose · 7 months ago

Text

Christmas Reruns 2024–Day 26: Girls’ Trip Fairytale Ending–Jen’s Tale

Word Count: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 27 28 29 30 31

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Notes: This story is the 4th of an eventual 5 chapters of a story I wrote for the birthdays of @jrob64, @snowbellewells, and @kmomof4.

CS Genre: Season 6 fix it fic

Jen didn’t know what she expected transportation via storybook to be like, but she was delighted to discover it was something like entering a snowglobe. Snowflakes swirled around her, and she watched with delight as they landed on her arms, her shoulders, the ends of her hair. Each one was different, but each was thoroughly exquisite in its own way. She knew that most people didn’t get her love of winter and snow but it was beautiful and fascinating, and she would go on loving it despite what anyone else might say.

So engrossed was Jen in the snow swirling around her, that she barely noticed moving from her place in the cabin until the air cleared and she found herself just inside the Charming’s flat. Her eyes fell first on the tremendous, festively decorated Christmas tree in the sitting area and then the simpler evergreen wreath hanging on the inside of the door.

So it was Christmastime in her version of events? Well, why not? Wasn’t Christmas the time for magic? And she would need some heavy duty, industrial strength magic to fix the mess Isaac had made of the latter part of season 6.

“So Hook….he killed my father? Okay, that’s a little tough to process.” she heard David say from the kitchen area, and suddenly she knew just exactly where they were in the story.

She hung back for a moment, trying to figure out just the right time and the right way to intervene.

“I was hoping I didn’t have to tell you,” Emma said, sounding defeated from her perch on the breakfast bar.

“Where the hell is Hook anyway?” David asked, aggressively pacing the kitchen. “He didn’t have the guts to come tell me himself?”

If anything, Emma looked even more dejected. “There’s more. Hook, he … he left town.”

“What?” David exclaimed, finally coming to a stop and staring at his daughter in disbelief.

“We had a big fight about him hiding this, and I told him if he wasn’t ready to trust me that, that we shouldn’t talk for a while,” Emma said, “so I guess he wasn’t ready, because Leroy saw him on the docks, and he got on the Nautilus and just…sailed away.”

At this, Jen found herself shaking her head, hurrying forward to intervene.

“Emma,” she said gently, “are you sure? Are you absolutely SURE that’s what happened?”

Emma looked up, anger and pain written all over her face. She spread her hands wide. “He’s not here, is he? What am I supposed to think?”

“I know how hurt you are by all that happened,” Jen said, “but hasn’t he shown you yet that you don’t need to put up your walls to protect yourself from him? Hasn’t he proven how much he loves you?”

“Not enough to keep from hiding things from me,” she muttered.

“Kind of like how you hid the truth about the shears and your destiny as savior from him?” Jen asked, being careful to keep any hint of accusation from her tone.

“That’s….that’s different!” Emma spluttered, jumping from the counter and striding purposely toward the coat rack. “I’ve gotta get to the station. Look, whatever you or I or anyone else might think of him, the facts are the facts, and the fact is that Leroy saw him leave me. End of discussion.”

As though to punctuate her sentence, she stepped out the door and slammed it behind her. The Christmas wreath on the door fell to the floor with the violence of the action. David moved forward to replace the decoration on its perch.

“You know I’m right, don’t you David?” Jen asked.

He didn’t look at her, instead taking long moments to adjust the wreath just so on the door. Finally he turned back to face her. “She’s my daughter, Jen, and she’s hurting, and he’s the cause of it, whatever led to it. My focus has to be on helping her heal”

“But if things aren’t exactly the way they look…if maybe this is the work of a villain or something,” Jen said, “wouldn’t the ideal way to help her be to figure out the truth? And you know Killian. You know how much he loves Emma. Doesn’t he deserve the benefit of the doubt?”

David frowned, and Jen could tell her words struck a chord in him. “I suppose you’re right.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

With another delightful swirl of snow, Jen found herself transported to the sheriff’s station where David and Emma were discussing digitizing files and the merits of busywork to help dull the pain. She decided to hang back in the shadows, watching to see how this scene played out.

“I’ve got just the thing to mend a broken heart,” Regina said happily, brushing snow off of her coat as she breezed into the station and held up a small piece of paper rolled into a scroll.

Emma eyed it warily. “Whatever spell that is, I don’t want it. I’m seriously not in the mood for magic.”

“Who said anything about magic?” Regina said unfurling the scroll which was covered in so many images of the season, it looked like Christmas had thrown up all over it. “It’s a two for one drink coupon for that new club, Aesop’s Tables. Seems they’re having a big Christmas sale. It’d be a shame to waste it!”

David stepped up, looking at the coupon and shaking his head. “Really? You think half priced liquor is the way to go.”

“I certainly do,” Regina said. “We need a ladies night out, me, Emma and Snow. We go early enough, we can get back in time for Christmas eve with the family.”

Emma looked unimpressed at the suggestion. “Remember she’s in a sleeping curse? She’s at home. Asleep.”

“Well, she doesn’t have to be asleep,” Regina said with a meaningful look at David.

“Oh come on! I just woke up!” he said. Regina gave him a look, and he rolled his eyes. “I guess she doesn’t have to be asleep.”

Emma got to her feet, clearly in no mood for any of this. “I can’t. I’m about to go on patrol, and shouldn’t you be trying to break that curse?”

Regina blew out an exasperated breath. “Well, I’m working on it, but I could use a break. We all could. I know you’re hurting, and I know you’re trying to hide it because, well, you’re Emma, but you can’t just run from this.”

Emma gave her a hard look. “I didn’t run. Hook ran, so, there’s nothing more to say.” She placed the last file on the pile in front of her with rather more force than strictly necessary, and then headed toward the door. It was abundantly clear that she was running from the conversation as much as she was heading out on rounds.

“You know,” David said speculatively as she walked out, “I’ve been thinking.”

Regina snorted, “a dangerous pastime.”

He glared at her and then went back to the topic at hand. “I’m not sure it’s true. I’m not sure Hook really DID run,” he finished.

“Well he’s not here, is he?” she asked, gesturing around the office to make her point. “Seems your daughter has some reason to think he skipped town.”

“Leroy,” David said.

“I beg your pardon?” Regina said.

“Leroy’s her reason,” David said. “He apparently saw Hook on the docks, told Emma something about Hook getting on the Nautilus and sailing away.”

Regina tutted derisively. “Leroy? Emma’s just going on the word of that gossip girl?”

David shrugged. “You know how hard it is for Emma to trust, how closely she guards her heart. She’s hurting, but you and I both know Hook. That man isn’t capable of loving by half measures. It doesn’t make sense that he’d decide he doesn’t trust her and just….cut his losses and skip town.”

Jen nodded in satisfaction. That’s the David she knew, rather than the clueless one Isaac wrote, the one who was ready to believe the worst of Killian at the slightest provocation.

“I guess you have a point there,” Regina conceded, “and we do have a psychopath running around trying to separate Emma from all her sources of support. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but maybe it’s time to give the pirate the benefit of the doubt.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

With another swirl of snow, Jen found herself in the sitting room of Emma’s house. She smiled as she saw the tall Christmas tree in the corner, bedecked with lights and garland and all manner of hook, swan, storybook and Disney character ornaments.

The smile slid from her face as she spied Emma and Henry sitting together at opposite ends of the sofa. Henry played on his phone, earbuds in place while Emma slowly, gently placed Hook’s possessions in his chest. She hesitated as she reached Liam’s ring hanging from its chain. She held it close, looking down at it, the tears coming to her eyes in spite of herself.

Beside her, Henry seemed to notice her distress. He pulled the earbuds from his ears. “Mom, you okay?”

Emma took a deep breath and decisively placed the ring in the trunk and closed the lid. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she answered. “I have to be,” she added under her breath. “Henry, can you take this out to the shed later?”

Henry nodded. “Yeah, whatever you want.”

That was it? That was all Henry had to say on the matter? Clearly it was time for Jen to intervene again.

“Take a moment to think about this Emma, Henry,” Jen said. “Look at what’s sitting before you. Hook’s chest, filled with all his most prized possessions. If he was going to leave you, why would he leave all of that behind?”

Jen saw a small glimmer of hope dawn in Emma’s eye, but just as quickly it disappeared. “I don’t know, but I’ve already told you. I have to face the facts. Holding on to false hope only hurts worse.”

Beside her, Henry furled his brow. “Jen’s got a point, mom,” he said, Jen nodded in satisfaction. Maybe the Truest Believer was ready to work his (metaphorical) magic once more. “Killian spent two hundred years trying to avenge my grandma Milah. Once he loves someone, he loves them forever.”

There was that tiny spark of hope in her eyes once more. It lasted longer this time before it faded. “But sometimes love is not enough. Seems that’s the case with Hook.”

“Mom, he literally went to hell for you,” Henry said. “You two were proven True Love. When Zeus wanted to send Killian to his ultimate reward–to the place he truly belonged–he sent him back to you. You really think he gave all of that up over an argument?”

Emma took a moment to think this over and seemed to be on the verge of responding when there was a brisk knock on the door, and a moment later David and Regina strolled in.

“Regina…what the hell?” Emma asked, getting to her feet.

“Your Charming father and I have been talking,” Regina said, “and we’ve come to the conclusion that you’re being an idiot.”

“I’d like to point out for the record, that that is not the conclusion I came to,” David said with an exasperated glare in the direction of his step-mother-in-law. “I said that I thought your pain might be clouding your judgment.”

“Technicalities,” Regina said with a wave of the hand.

Emma rolled her eyes. “As much as I’m enjoying the bickering at my expense,” she drawled, “is there a point to your visit?”

“We were thinking,” David said, stepping forward. “How many times in this town has a villain screwed with things and made circumstances seem different than they are in order to despirit the heroes and further their plan? How can we be sure Gideon didn’t, I don’t know, do something to make Killian leave?”

There was that hope in Emma’s eyes once more, and this time it stubbornly refused to fade. “Do you really think that could be the case?” she asked.

“Of course!” Henry said, “and we know what Gideon’s trying to do! He’s trying to separate Emma from all her sources of support before the final battle! It would be just like him to get rid of Killian, her true love.”

“But…” Emma said, starting to protest once more, but far more weakly this time.

“Emma he’s your True Love, and that’s a special kind of magic,” David said, placing his hands on her arms. “Don’t you at least owe him–and yourself–trying to figure out for sure?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Emma said, “but how? Forget why he left. We don’t even know where he went.”

Jen stepped up, looking at Regina. “It’s Christmas time. Surely there’s some sort of…I don’t know…enchanted Christmas ornament ro something that can help us out.”

“I don’t know about an ornament,” Regina said slowly, “but there is the legend of the Christmas wreath.”

“What legend is that, mom?” Henry asked.

“Well the evergreen wreath is a symbol of everlasting love, right?” Regina asked. “You know, evergreens never shedding their green needles, the circle the symbol of that with no beginning or end, all of that?”

Emma shrugged.

“Well, apparently, at Christmastime, the wreath has a special, even greater magic,” Regina says. “The magic of the season enhances its True Love properties, and, in short, if someone is True Love, it’s said they will be able to see their True Love in it, assuming they adorn it with something meaningful belonging to said True Love.”

“One problem,” Emma said. “I don’t have a wreath.”

“But Grandma and Grandpa do!” Henry said excitedly. “They made it together and it’s on their door! That could work, couldn’t it?”

Regina groaned. “Given how utterly sickening their True Love is, I’d say a wreath they lovingly made together might be the perfect option.”

“And as for something meaningful to Killian,” Emma said, reaching into the trunk and grasping Liam’s ring, “I’ve got the perfect thing.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” David asked with a broad smile. “Let’s get back to the loft!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“I don’t see anything,” Emma said dejectedly several minutes later.

Regina had poofed them directly to the loft, and Emma had wasted no time in draping Liam’s ring over her parents’ wreath before staring into the center of it.

“You have to believe, Emma,” Regina said, “truly believe in the strength and everlasting nature of your love. You need to put all doubts from your mind.”

Emma took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment, and then looked back through the center of the wreath. She gasped, hearing him before she saw him.

“Emma? Emma are you there? I didn’t mean to leave. I was on my way back to you and Gideon, he sent me away.”

Slowly the picture began to emerge from within the wreath. Killian seemed to be in some exotic place, a place in the desert. If Emma wasn’t mistaken, he was standing beside…was that Ariel?...and he was speaking into what looked like a seashell.

“Seems he’s trying to communicate via ‘shell’ phone,” David grinned. Regina groaned and Emma shushed them both, concentrating on what she was hearing from the wreath…or shell…or whatever the hell was happening.

“I would never leave you. Emma. He wanted me out of the way, and I love you. I don’t know if you can hear me but I’m trying to get home to you, and I won’t ever stop until I do.”

Tears of relief filled Emma’s eyes and spilled down over her cheeks. “Killian?” she answered.

Through the wreath, she saw him start and look down in wonder at the shell in his hand. “Emma? You’re there?”

“I’m here,” she said tearfully. “I hear you. I love you too!”

“I’m trying desperately to get home to you,” he said. “Christmas is tomorrow, and I couldn’t bear to spend it without you. Do you have any suggestions?”

Emma looked around at Regina. “Anything more to that wreath legend?” she asked. “Can it, like, transport someone?”

“Well,” Regina said slowly, “I suppose it’s possible, if he could find a wreath of his own and something of yours to tether them together. Maybe the wreath could bring him home.”

“Are you there, love?” Killian asked.

“He can’t hear you?” Emma asked Regina.

She shrugged. “Well he’s not my True Love.”

Emma rolled her eyes before telling Killian what Regina had just conveyed to her. It was a matter of just a moment to get everything arranged. As luck would have it, Ariel had, among her tremendous collection of random things, a Christmas wreath, and Killian was able to tether it to Emma’s by adding her engagement ring to its boughs.

There was a flash of Christmas lights, and then he was there, back in the room with them.

Jen held her breath, knowing what was coming, thrilled at the prospect of being a witness to it. She pulled back to give them a bit of privacy, even if she had no intention of withdrawing entirely from a scene of such great importance to her very favorite fictional couple.

“I’m sorry, Emma,” Killian said, taking her hand. “I should have told you what I did to your grandfather all those years ago, and I should never, never have even considered running away.

Jen noticed the tears in Emma’s eyes, her watery smile as she looked up at him. “It’s okay. I didn’t exactly make it easy for you to tell me the truth. Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

She turned away, trying to pull him with her, but he held his ground. “No,” he said, “no, there’s something I have to do before I get pushed into another portal and this time, I’m gonna do it the right way.”

Killian reached into his jacket pocket, wincing with the pain the movement caused his bruised body. He pulled out the engagement ring and Jen noticed how brilliantly it shown in the light of the Christmas tree behind them.

“Swan,” he continued "I know that you face an uncertain future, but there’s one thing I want you to be certain of–that I will always, always be by your side.” He sunk to one knee gazing up at her with every ounce of the love and adoration he felt for her. “So, Emma Swan, what do you say? Will you marry me?”

While normally not nearly as exuberant as Krystal, it was only with great difficulty that Jen restrained herself from squealing. The scene had been beautiful and romantic when she’d watched it on her TV screen–multiple times–but being there, in person–there were no words.

And then when Emma got to her knees beside him, took his face in her hands, gave him her yes and then kissed him tenderly, there was no way Jen could have held back her ecstatic sigh.

Neither Emma nor Killian, who were thoroughly engrossed with each other and cocooned in their love nor anyone else in the room heard or noticed as the snow swirled one last time to transport Jen back to the cabin.

NEXT CHAPTER->

#cs fanfiction #cs christmas reruns #girls' trip fairytale ending #jen's tale #my fanfiction

7 notes · View notes

whimsicallyenchantedrose · 8 months ago

Text

Thank you so much and Merry Christmas!

This story is so cute! I love all the family moments, and good luck to Emma and Killian keeping their pregnancy a secret from Snow! Lol, I laughed when Snow was asking her about pancakes.

Gingerbread Houses and Plays and Christmas! Oh My! Captain Swan Secret Santa 2024

For @whimsicallyenchantedrose! Surprise! I'm your Santa and here is, as promised, Part 1! Part 2 will be up within a week! I hope it suits your desire for canon and fluff! This is slightly canon divergent-Season 7 doesn't exist, Robin is still alive and well, and Emma and Killian did not wait as long to have Hope! I hope you enjoy!

Rating: G

Word Count: 4.6K

“I don't know Henry,” Emma said, unsure of her son's idea.

“Mom, it would be so much fun!” Henry protested.

“She's four, Henry.”

“And I'm seventeen. What's that got to do with anything?” Henry asked.

“She's just a little young to participate in that. How much could she really do, anyways?” Emma said, knowing damn well Hope could participate.

“Are you serious right now? She's so artistic and she loves helping in the kitchen. Especially with baking. There's no reason she can't make a gingerbread house.” Henry reasoned.

“But-”

“No. Buts. She can do it. You just don't want her to. Or do you not want to?” Henry asked, realizing his mom might be dragging her feet for another reason entirely.

“It's not that I don't want her to, it's just a lot of sugar for such a little body. And it's so messy,” Emma replied, finally finished with washing the dishes.

“Mom, all baking is messy to a degree. We'll just put out aluminum foil and it will be easier to clean up. Hope will help clean up too. I think she would love to make a gingerbread house.”

“I don't think I trust Killian not to make a mess and go overboard either,” Emma hesitated, still insisting against making gingerbread houses. Henry finished wiping down the kitchen table and counters, giving Emma a pointed look.

“Killian would love to make a gingerbread house. He'd go overboard, but it would be so fun. He'd like make the Jolly Roger or something. We'd have so much fun!” Henry said, excitement lacing his words. He was getting more excited about seeing what Killian would make than fighting for Hope to make a gingerbread house.

“A lot is going on right now, Henry. Christmas is coming up and we've got like 22 parties to attend or host, and I just don't think-” Emma started.

“Have you ever made a gingerbread house before?” Henry interrupted.

“What?!” Emma asked, startled by his bluntness.

“Have you ever made a gingerbread house before?” Henry repeated, slower this time. They were standing just a few feet apart near the kitchen sink.

“I heard what you said!”

“Then why did-” Henry began.

“No! Okay! Fine. I've never made a gingerbread house before. I don't know the first thing about it besides that those kits are expensive for no reason. I never lived with a family around Christmas where we made gingerbread houses, and I wasn't exactly in the position to request something so frivolous. I was lucky enough to have a bed and not be out in the cold. How am I supposed to teach Hope how to make a gingerbread house if I have no idea how to do it?” Emma finally elaborated, talking with her hands while tears lined her eyelids.

“Mom, why didn't you just say so? We could learn and help Hope and Killian too. I've only ever made one once, and that was last year with Roland. Mom didn't buy the kits for me growing up, she would just make some other desserts or whatever. I'm glad I had her, but Christmas was lonely with just Mom. I don't want Hope not to have memories just because I've never done it before. Where's your sense of adventure? Did going to Neverland and the Enchanted Forest and the Underworld really never prepare you for some gingerbread houses?” Henry asked, trying to make his mom see how ridiculous she was being right now. Emma had light tears running down her pink cheeks, smiling sadly at her son.

“I'm sorry I wasn't around to-”

“Stop, Mom. It's alright. Everything worked out like it should. I think we should try our hands at gingerbread houses. How bad could the Jones's really be at a baked house?”

“Fine. But if there's a giant mess, you're cleaning it up.” Emma agreed. They shared a quick hug before they were off for the day. Emma had to go to work at the Sheriff’s Station, and Henry had to go to school to take a fall semester final. Killian had left with Hope right after breakfast to take her to her preschool, and then Killian was going to work at the Sheriff’s Station as well.

-------CS-------

Later that day after his final, Henry met up with Killian for lunch at one of the small restaurants on the Storybrooke pier that sold locally caught seafood. Henry was excitedly telling Killian all about the tradition of making gingerbread houses.

“How do the walls and ceilings of these homes stay upright? Are the pieces of this gingerbread soft and moist?” Killian questioned.

“Literally never say “moist” again.” Henry chided his stepfather.

“Why not? It's a great adjective to describe other things. The moist air, the moist oatmeal, the moist pork roast, the moist-”

“Stop! It's literally the grossest possible word to describe something with. Just say ‘wet’” Henry said, contorting his face to visually display his disgust.

“You are quite dramatic lad. It's just descriptive terminology.”

“Oh my God you're the oldest person alive!” Henry nearly whined.

“Well, quite possibly besides your grandfather on your father's side. He's several centuries older than-” Killian said.

“It was a figure of speech, Killian,” Henry replied. There was never a dull moment with Killian. “And anyways, no, the gingerbread pieces are hard. You use frosting or icing to stick the pieces together. You also decorate it with icing and you can add little pieces of candy, sprinkles, chocolate chips, gumdrops, candy canes, edible glitter or-”

“Edible glitter? What a horrid invention. Why would one want to ingest that creation of Hades!” Everyone knew that Killian hated glitter, which became especially apparent when his beloved daughter had quite a talent for art and enjoyed glitter as an accessory to her art.

“It's just something people use on gingerbread houses. We don't have to get any. It's just something that exists. So, are you in?” Henry asked.

“In? If my wife, daughter, and son are involved, then yes I'm in,” Killian replied. “I just have one further question.”

“Shoot.” Henry said, ready for another ridiculous rampage about the English language and the ‘teenage vernacular’ as Killian loved to call it.

“Does one have to create a house?” Killian smirked.

-------CS-------

Emma was tired. It was the Christmas Season, and she hadn’t seen her Mom so excited about anything until it was December and time for Christmas. Snow had planned out seemingly the entire month of December. Between their family get-togethers with different parts of the family, the Storybrooke tradition of a holiday party at the town hall, and Christmas shopping and decorating- they were busy. Emma had another excuse altogether to be tired, and she was determined not to ruin the surprise and let her parents know early. Killian and Henry helped plan the perfect opportunity to tell her parents that Emma and Killian were expecting their second child at the end of Spring. Emma would be over four months pregnant by the time it was Christmas, and she had been so careful not to show signs of tiredness or morning sickness in front of her parents. Luckily it was winter, so she’d been able to bundle up with oversized sweaters, sweatshirts, and jackets to prevent her nosy mother, or the rest of the meddling town, from realizing that she was showing.

“Emma!” Someone called her name from her side, ending her musings. She looked to her left to see Belle walking up.

“Hey Belle! How are you?” Emma greeted, happy to see Belle. In the last several years, Belle had really blossomed. Motherhood suited her well, and she loved Gideon more than anything. Gideon loved playing with the other children all related to Emma somehow or another. Gideon and Emma's younger brother Neal were close, as there was only a two year age gap between them. Neal was 10 now, and Gideon was 8. They also enjoyed playing with Zelena’s daughter Robin, who was nearly seven. Hope was a little younger than them at 4, but she still tried to join in when all the kids were together. Mostly Hope played with Emma's younger sister, Margaret Ruth. “Ruthie” as she was lovingly called by some of the kids, was a year younger than Hope. They might as well be twins for as much as they are together. Ruthie had dark black hair like their mother, and Hope had Emma's blonde curls, but the girls were clearly related. Emma was standing outside the preschool entrance of the elementary school because it was her day to pick up Hope and Ruth from preschool before walking around to the elementary entrance and picking up Neal. Emma typically ran into Belle, Zelena, or Regina while picking up the kids, so it was not at all odd that Belle was standing in front of Emma.

“I'm doing good! We have been planning like crazy for Santa's visit to the library happening tomorrow. After ‘Santa’ reads the kids' group a Christmas book, all the kids in attendance can take their picture with Santa. We still have a few more finishing touches, but I think we are ready to go other than that. Gideon and I are heading back to the library to finish up.” Belle explained. Despite the stress of her event, Belle looked energized and excited. Emma wished she felt half as energized as Belle looked. “How are you doing?” Belle asked.

“I'm alright. Just tired from everything going on right now. I mean between working and Hope being a toddler and Christmas gatherings and gift wrapping and ugh. It's just a lot right now. But I'm glad to hear your event at the library sounds like it will be smooth sailing!” Emma said as enthusiastically as she could manage.

“It is a busy time, and I am so glad I don't have a toddler on my hands! Gideon has been a lot of help around the library and at home. Are you still planning on stopping by with Hope at the library tomorrow?”

“Well, kind of. Hope and Killian will be stopping by, and I think my dad and Margaret Ruth are coming as well. I'm at the station all day tomorrow so I might be able to stop by, but Killian is for sure bringing Hope.” Emma explained.

“That sounds lovely! I'm excited to have the girls there!” Belle finished right before Hope's voice stopped the women's conversation.

“Mama! Hi! I missed you today!” Hope excitedly yelled while running towards Emma.

“Be careful little love! We don't need you falling and hurting yourself!” Emma said, genuinely thrilled to see her daughter. Hope threw herself in her mother's arms and Emma hugged her close to her chest. “Hey sweet girl,” Emma murmured in her daughter's soft curls. “I missed you too.”

“Emmy!” Margaret Ruth called, prompting Emma to put Hope down and embrace her sister.

“Hey Ruthie, how was your day at school?” Emma greeted the toddler.

“Good! We makes some ornaments for da twees! Our faces on dem!” Ruthie said, excited to tell her big sister all about her class’s craft.

“Oh, your picture is on the ornaments you made? Mommy and Daddy are going to love that Ruthie girl.” Emma said, taking both girls by the hand before walking with Belle towards the elementary school entrance. The preschool was released about 10 minutes earlier than the elementary school, which gave parents of kids in both grades time to get their kids. The girls were both excitedly telling the women about their school day, and before long, Gideon and Neal came barreling out of the school doors and headed straight to the women.

“Hey, Ems! Ruthie! Hopey!” Neal called before embracing all three in hugs. Despite their age difference, Neal loved Emma and the two were close. Neal also loved Henry and followed him around wherever Henry went. “Hey, Mrs. Belle!” Neal greeted.

“Hey Neal, it's good to see you. Behave for your sister this afternoon!” Belle said before the Gold's said their goodbyes and headed off toward the library. Emma, Hope, Margaret Ruth, and Neal all headed towards Emma's house.

“After snack when we get home, I think Henry wanted to practice the play with you guys. Aunt Regina will drop off Roland and Robin in a bit so you guys can practice. Gideon has to help his Mom today, but he'll be back to practicing soon.” Emma said, trying to prepare the kids for play practice.

Henry had this grand idea that the kids of their family should reenact a story from one of their adventures in front of the entire family on Christmas Eve night at Regina and Robin's house. Henry was using this opportunity for his senior project for school. He was using his storytelling abilities through writing, directing, working with children, artistic design, and theatre for his project, and he was determined that they would be ready, toddlers and all, by Christmas Eve where he would film the performance and submit it in the spring semester. They had started practicing last week, and none of the parents complained about free babysitting during the busiest time of the year.

-------CS-------

“Emmy! Emmy! Emmy!” Emma woke with a start, her little sister's hands on her arm. Emma took in her surroundings and saw that she was on her couch in her living room, and there seemed to be no apparent enemy or villain or situation wrong.

“What's wrong Margaret Ruth?” Emma asked, wiping sleep from her eyes. She didn't even remember sitting on the couch, let alone falling asleep.

“I had an accident! I ti-ti-ed in my pull-up!” Margaret Ruth said, panic on her face.

“It's alright! We'll get you cleaned up and in a new pull-up. Come on kid,” Emma pulled her sister towards the hall bath and got her cleaned up. As Emma was helping her on the step stool to wash her hands, her sister spoke up.

“Why you sweepy, Emmy?”

“I don't know, kid. I'm just really tired.” Emma replied, trying to end the conversation. Her little sister, however, was exactly like their mother and was not about to let something go.

“Did you not go to bed when Mommy said so?” Margaret Ruth questioned.

“Remember I'm a big girl. Mommy doesn't tell me when to go to sleep because I live in my own house.” Emma answered.

“You live here with Uncle Kilwy and Henwy and Hope!” Margaret Ruth responded.

“That's right. And since I'm a big girl and I don't live with Mommy and Daddy, they don't tell me what to do or when to go to bed. When you are a big girl and you live in your own place, you won't have to listen to Mommy and Daddy anymore either” Emma explained.

“But you still listen to Mommy,” the toddler said as she finished wiping her hands on the hand towel with Emma's help.

“Not all the time,” Emma said, thrown off that her sister would call out her listening skills.

“Mhmm! When Mommy says you have to come to our house, you do! When Mommy says to pick me up from school, you do! When Mommy says to make pasta for dinner, you do! You listen to Mommy all the time!” Margaret Ruth exclaimed, using her hands for emphasis. Emma stared at the child realizing that she does listen a lot to their mother. Before Emma could continue this conversation, there was a knock on the door.

“Who do you think that is, Ruthie?” Emma asked, walking towards her front door.

“Mommy!” She said, running towards the door.

“Don't open that until I see who it is!” Emma warned. Upon seeing that their guest was, in fact, their mother, Emma unlocked the door and opened it to reveal Snow standing on the front porch, cheeks rosy from the cold.

“Mommy!” Ruth cried again, leaping into their mother's arms.

“Ruthie! It's my two girls!” Snow said, before stepping inside and embracing Emma in a hug too. “How are you, honey?” Snow asked the toddler.

“Emmy was asweep Mommy!” Ruthie said, telling on her older sister.

“Asleep?” Snow said, giving Emma a questioning look.

“I just dozed off on the couch for a few minutes while the kids were downstairs with Henry. Ruthie is convinced that I didn't go to bed when you told me to last night,” Emma said, smiling playfully at her younger sister.

“Emma doesn't go to bed when I tell her, honey. She's a big girl. She goes to bed whenever she wants. Maybe she was too busy to go to bed early last night, Ruth,” Snow said, giving Emma a pointed look.

“Mom!” Emma said, cheeks reddening at her mother's implications.

“Why were you busy, Emmy?” her sister questioned innocently.

“I wasn't!” Emma said sharply. Luckily, Henry called for Margaret Ruth to come back downstairs so they could practice the play one more time today. The little girl leaped out of their mother's arms before heading downstairs. Although her sister was gone, Snow's pointed eyebrow raise and smirk were another battle entirely.

“What?” Emma asked her mother.

“Why were you asleep?” Snow asked.

“I told you. I was tired, so I dozed off for a few minutes while the kids were downstairs,” Emma said.

“But that's not like you. Why were you so tired?” Snow pushed.

“Mom, it's Christmas. I have a toddler. I guess I didn't sleep well last night. Why are you making a big deal about this?”

“I have a toddler too. Why don't you just drink some coffee to wake you up?” Snow said, watching Emma's facial expressions closely.

“I don't drink a lot of coffee,” Emma said evenly, not falling that easily into her mother's trap.

“Emma, dear, what's going on?”

“Nothing. I'm tired. It's a normal feeling. I'll make sure I go to bed early tonight.” Emma replied.

“Were you up too late making pancakes?” Snow asked bluntly.

“Mom! No. Would you stop!” Emma said, cheeks heating up again.

“Come on, Emma! We can talk about these things!” Snow pleaded.

“No, we cannot! You are my mother. I am not talking to my mother about my intimate relationship with my husband! This has never been something I want to talk to you about!” Emma said, slightly annoyed that her mother still didn’t get the picture.

“But we were friends first! We've talked about this stuff before!”

“Yeah, before I knew you were my mother and David was my father! Now, I don't want to hear about your relationship, and I don't want to talk about mine!” Emma snapped quietly, knowing the kids were just down a flight of stairs from their PG-13 conversation in the kitchen. The front door opened abruptly, quieting the women as their husbands walked through the front door in an animated discussion. David and Killian were excitedly engaged in some conversation that sounded suspiciously like gingerbread making.

“Dad! Great. Glad you're here. Please, please! Take your wife home. Oh, and your kids. But mostly your wife.” Emma said, giving her father a pointed look that meant Snow had gone too far with something.

“Hey, Emma. Glad to see you too, sweetheart,” David replied, giving his daughter a quick hug before embracing his wife. Killian hung his coat up and slipped off his boots before he made his way towards Emma, enveloping her in a hug that warmed Emma's soul.

“Hi, love. It’s good to see you” Killian commented, running his hand absentmindedly up and down his wife’s back. Emma cuddled closer to Killian but kept a wary eye on her mother, afraid she would again bring up Emma’s tiredness or Emma’s relationship in the bedroom. The last thing she wanted was to talk to her Dad of all people about anything involving her intimate time with Killian besides surprising David with a third grandchild.

Before Snow could bring up anything about Emma, Henry and the kids came up the stairs, with Henry telling the children he was proud of them for their hard work. Before she had rounded the top stair completely, Hope had seen Killian and bounded towards him, cuddling herself in his arms when he bent down to pick her up. Margaret Ruth and Neal headed for their parents, but Neal couldn't help from stealing a hug from Killian, and another from Emma. Roland and Robin headed out the door with goodbyes as they walked home. The Charmings were quickly out the door, and then it was just Emma, Killian, Henry, and Hope in the Swan-Jones household. Henry began animatedly telling his parents and sister how the play practice was going. He wouldn't give up the specific adventure that was being reenacted, but he did say it was going well and he was excited for them to see it all together at Regina's house on Christmas Eve.

“That's a fortnight away, lad. Do you think all the children will be ready by then?” Killian asked as he prepared dinner for the family.

“I think so. It will be better once Gideon can come back and play in his role” Henry said after pondering his stepfather's question.

“Why wasn't Gideon over today?” Killian questioned.

“Oh! Babe, the Santa library book reading thing!” Emma said, forgetting the name of Belle's event.

“The library book reading thing?” Killian asked, confused by his wife's description.

“The event Belle is hosting at the Storybrooke Library. Santa is going to read a story to the kids' book club then there will be pictures with Santa after. I was going to take Hope, but tomorrow I'm working all day. I told Belle you would take Hope, and that Dad would take Margaret Ruth.” Emma elaborated.

“Ah, yes. Belle was telling me about this event just the other day. I had forgotten what day it was. Very well, the little pirate and I will venture over to the library as soon as school gets out tomorrow,” Killian replied.

“Oh! That reminds me, I need to tell Dad the plan. Let me call him right quick!” Emma said. She walked out of the room to call her father, while Killian just shook his head and smiled good-naturedly.

“Your mother's more scatterbrained than usual,” Killian mused aloud, making sure to be broad enough that his daughter wouldn't pick up on why her mother was scatterbrained.

“Yeah, and not telling Grandma and Grandpa is slowly killing her. Margaret Ruth found her asleep on the couch earlier and told all the kids about how ‘Emmy’ was asleep and that she was too busy to go to sleep early last night,” Henry told Killian.

“Gods, your grandparents could still figure it out yet. I think Emma would be crushed if they found out before we told them. She's been trying so hard to hide everything from them” Killian responded. Emma was back in the kitchen before long, and the family enjoyed their quiet evening together before Emma did, in fact, go to bed early.

-------CS-------

“David! It's good to see you mate!” Killian said across the schoolyard. The men were waiting for their preschoolers to get out of school so they could go to Belle's event at the library.

“Hey Killian! You too. How was this morning at the sheriff's station?” David responded.

“Slow. Just a few citations for illegal parking, but nothing crazy. I am thankful for the slow days,” Killian replied just as the doors to the school opened and some preschoolers came running out. Hope and Margaret Ruth came towards the men, both excitedly greeting their fathers.

“Hi Grandpa! I saw Grandma today in the lunchroom! She gave me a hug!” Hope excitedly explained.

“That's awesome sweetheart. I'm so glad you got to see her today. Are you two ready to see Mrs. Belle at the library?” David greeted his granddaughter.

“Yes!” Both girls squealed. The four headed towards the library, with the two girls hand-in-hand a few steps ahead of the men.

“So, Killian, how's Emma been doing?”

“Emma is fine. You saw her last night, Dave,” Killian responded evenly.

“Well, I know I saw her, but how is she actually?” David inquired.

“She's actually fine,” Killian mimicked.

“No, listen, Snow was telling me last night that she's concerned about Emma. Said she was really tired recently and even fell asleep yesterday afternoon and Margaret Ruth woke her up. It's just unusual behavior for our girl who seems to be constantly running and always on the go,” David elaborated.

“Oh, you needn't worry, mate. Emma's just tired because we've been staying up later than usual wrapping presents and decorating the house for the holidays. Emma's just worried about making it a good Christmas for Hope since she will probably remember this Christmas. We've been putting Hope to bed and then wrapping presents together in the evenings. It's just a busy time.”

“So, you're sure she's alright? I mean Snow brought up that her appetite has been weird and fluctuating and she's been irritable and short with people. We're just worried parents,” David replied.

“A few weeks back Emma had a sinus cold, which was affecting her eating patterns. She's been stressed about Christmas and holiday gatherings and such, so that's probably why she's appeared short-tempered. I assure you, mate, Emma is in perfect health. And if something was truly wrong, you know I would tell you and Snow.” Killian said, trying desperately to dodge the Prince’s questions and assure him that Emma was fine. That wasn't a lie. Emma truly was fine and healthy. They’d been to their OBGYN out of Storybrooke to check on the baby, and everything was progressing smoothly. Killian was honestly shocked they'd both been able to get away for an afternoon or morning under the radar with no further inquiries from Snow.

“I guess you're right. I know you take care of her, more than I could have asked for. I believe if something wasn't right, you would have already told us. It's just - you know how Snow is. She's -”

“A meddler?”

“Well, yeah. She's-”

“Overly concerned about things that are not her business?” Killian jested.

“Hey! Well, she can sometimes be overly concerned about things. She just didn't get the chance to be Emma's mother for 28 years. She is trying to make up for lost time and can sometimes be a bit overbearing and dramatic.”

“I know, mate. Now that I have a daughter of my own, I don't know what I'd do with myself if I lost the opportunity to watch her grow up and raise her for 28 years. I can't imagine how difficult it has been for you both. I know I speak for Emma too when I say that we are thankful to have you both in our lives, and I know she's glad her mother cares so much. It can sometimes be a bit much, that's all.” Killian said seriously, making sure to look his father-in-law in the eyes when telling him how both he and Emma felt.

“Thank you, Killian. It means a lot. I'll try to calm Snow down and reassure her she doesn’t have to ask Emma about her tiredness. Heaven knows I'm exhausted just from having a toddler, let alone it also being almost Christmas!” David replied before the four of them were at the doors of the library and were welcomed inside by Belle dressed as a Christmas Elf. She excitedly greeted the girls inside, helped them find a seat up front, and managed the entire event with grace. Belle truly showed the town how important it is for Storybrooke to embrace the Christmas spirit by giving, being kind to each other, and spending quality time with loved ones.

17 notes · View notes

whimsicallyenchantedrose · 8 months ago

Note

Ho Ho Ho! Merry Christmas! It's your Santa popping in to let you know I've been working hard on your Christmas Gift, but I need to divide it into two parts. I have the first half done, and I will post it in the morning! The second half will be posted by New Year's Day! I apologize that I haven't finished all of it for you now, but the story has gotten longer than I originally anticipated. You are one of my favorite writers, and I'm trying desperately to make sure it is good enough for you. I will best be able to do this if I break it up into two pieces and work on the second half a little more. Just wanted to pop in and explain myself so you know I have not abandoned you or forgotten about your gift! I just want to make sure it's as good as I can make it!

Merry Christmas! I hope you had a wonderful day with your loved ones!

Hi Santa! Merry Christmas! I look forward to your story, and don't worry! I'm sure it will be great.

As far as timing, I'm Catholic. I start celebrating Christmas on the 25th, and the 12 days of Christmas start then. It'll be exciting to get another gift on one of the later days of Christmas!

2 notes · View notes

whimsicallyenchantedrose · 8 months ago

Text

Christmas Reruns 2024–Day 25: The Christmas Cabin

Word Count: 5440

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 26 27 28 29 30 31

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Written in 2022. AU Due to a scheduling mishap, strangers Emma and Killian end up double booked for the same cabin over Christmas in the middle of a blizzard. Obviously there’s only one bed.

CS Genre: AU

By the time Emma pulled up in front of her best friend, Mary Margaret’s cabin two days before Christmas, it was snowing so hard she could barely see three feet in front of her. The weatherman had predicted a Christmas blizzard, and for once he’d been right.

She parked, grabbed her bag and made her way through the howling wind and pelting snow to the front door. As Mary Margaret had promised, it was unlocked, and Emma entered to an absolute haven of Christmasy comfort. A fire was roaring in the hearth, colorful lights twinkled from the Christmas tree, garlands and holly hung from every available surface, and in the corner of the room, the very comfortable looking queen-sized bed was draped with a very festive red and green duvet.

It kind of looked like Christmas had thrown up in here, but it was cozy, and after the ridiculously frozen drive here, cozy sounded pretty damn good.

Normally Emma loved Christmastime, but a big part of that love was due to the excitement her ten-year-old son Henry felt surrounding the holiday. This year, Henry was spending the holiday with his dad, and Emma had only half-heartedly done the whole Christmas thing. (What was the point when you’d be spending the holiday alone?)

When a stakeout went wrong a couple days ago, Emma decided it was the last straw. She needed to get away. She needed a break from…well…everything. Luckily Mary Margaret had offered Emma the use of the cabin she owned with her new husband, David. (Well, technically, she’d offered to have Emma stay with her and David over Christmas, but it was their first Christmas together, and Emma didn’t want to intrude.)

Emma set her bag on the bed, and had only just stepped into the bathroom when she heard it. The door opened again, and she distinctly heard the stomping of boots.

She was not alone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Killian Jones had a problem. He was the best selling author of the immensely popular novel Neverland, which was a rather dark and gritty reimagining of the Peter Pan and Captain Hook story.

The problem? His editor was breathing down his neck for a new book. Regina Mills was a good editor (she was not the slightest bit shy about criticism), but she was quite short on patience. If Killian didn’t produce something to show her soon, she might just show up on his doorstep and start throwing fireballs.

Unfortunately his muse had gone completely silent, and he had no idea where he wanted to go with his sequel. He’d ended his first book with the rather psychotic Peter Pan finally allowing Captain Hook to leave his island, and Hook leaving to once again pursue his revenge. What more was there to be told about Neverland?

His readers enjoyed his unique take on the classic story, but they wanted more. There seemed to be near universal agreement that Hook should transition from morally gray anti-hero to full on hero, and more than a few had suggested the pirate needed a love interest, but Killian had no idea where he might go with either of those suggestions.

At any rate, he had to do something. He simply had to have at least a few chapters to give to Regina by the new year.

Christmas was always a hard time for Killian. Had been ever since he’d lost Liam and then Milah nearly a decade ago. Christmas had been by far his favorite time of year when he’d had a family and loved ones to share it with, but now that he’d lost them, Christmas only reminded him of what he no longer had.

And so when his mate David Nolan had offered the use of his cabin over Christmas, Killian had jumped at the opportunity. Perhaps alone in the idyllic setting, he could not only weather the heartache of a lonely Christmas, but also get a good start on his newest novel.

The final mile or two to the cabin had been rather treacherous as the snow fell so fast his windshield wipers could barely keep up with it, but fortunately he made it in one piece. He stepped into the cabin, stomped the snow from his boots…

And promptly found himself face to face with a very formidable blonde woman holding a thick, cast iron pan, poised to pummel him with it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“I don’t know who you are or what you think you’re doing here, but I suggest you turn your ass around and walk out of my cabin. Now.” Emma growled at the man standing in her friend’s cabin.

The man eyed her weapon of choice (the only one she could find in the moment), and then grinned at her, unbuttoning his parka and brushing snow from his hair. “I think you’re mistaken, love,” he said in a delicious accent. “This happens to be my cabin for the weekend.”

“Are you kidding me?” Emma asked. “Listen, bud, I’ve taken down guys a lot bigger and stronger than you, so unless you want me to bash in what few brains you have with this pan, I suggest you change your tune.”

“What tune would you like, Darling?” he asked with a quirk of his brow as he pulled off his coat and hung it on the rack by the door. “I’ve been told I’ve a rather appealing voice, and I’m at your disposal for whatever Christmas song you might desire.”

Emma growled, raising the pain higher, and the man seemed to finally decide caution was the better part of valor. He raised his hands in surrender, and took a step away. “Look,” he said, “apparently there’s been some misunderstanding.”

“Yeah, there has,” Emma said. “You came to my cabin and refuse to leave.”

The man rolled his eyes. “This cabin belongs to my mate, David, and he’s offered me use of it for the next week.”

David? This guy got permission from David?

“Yeah, well,” Emma said, “Mary Margaret gave me the use of this cabin for the next week.”

A quick phone call cleared up the situation.

“Emma, I’m so sorry!” Mary Margaret said as soon as Emma explained the situation. “Turns out David and I both offered the cabin without talking to each other. Why don’t you and Killian just share the cabin? He’s a good guy, and I bet the two of you will hit it off.”

Emma groaned as she finished the call and turned back to the man who remained patiently waiting by the door. “Yeah, so apparently the Nolans double booked the cabin. Obviously one of us is going to have to leave.”

The man–Killian, apparently–glanced out the window, and then back at her before shaking his head. “Love, I don’t think either one of us is going anywhere tonight, and probably not for a few days by the look of this storm.”

Emma crossed her arms and glared at him. “So what exactly do you propose we do? I’m not just going to share a cabin–and its only bed–with some guy I don’t even know.”

Killian offered his hand. “Killian Jones, at your service. You’ll no doubt know me from my world-class novel, Neverland.”

“Emma Swan,” she said, shaking his hand briefly, “bail bonds person, and sorry. Haven’t heard of you or your book.”

“Pleasure to meet you Emma Swan,” Killian said, bringing her hand to his lips and briefly kissing it before letting it go.

The touch of his lips to her skin started butterflies dancing in her stomach. He really was far, far too hot for her own good. Her reaction annoyed her, and she stepped back, crossing her arms again. “Look, how about we just…divide the cabin in half. You get that half over there, and I get this half. We each stay to our own side of the cabin, and then maybe we can both get through this week without bloodshed.”

“If that’s what you wish,” he said with a grin, “although I’d be careful if I were you. I’m rather charming, and I’ve a feeling I’ll win you over by the end of our stay.”

She snorted. “Don’t plan on it.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was an hour before Emma realized the flaw in her rather ingenious solution. She had the bed and the kitchen on her side of the cabin…but he had the one and only bathroom on his. She’d downed a large hot cocoa on her way to the cabin, and her bladder was beginning to protest.

She glanced over at Killian and noticed he was engrossed in whatever he was doing on his laptop. Perhaps she could simply slip into the bathroom without him being any the wiser.

She’d no sooner taken a step across the unofficial dividing line between their respective halves of the cabin, when Killian looked up at her and grinned. “Breaking our accord already, are you love?” he drawled. “That’s quite bad form."

She rolled her eyes. “Bad form? Who are you, Captain Hook?”

A delighted look came into his eyes. “You have read my book!”

“Yeah well,” she said, “maybe I have. Must not have been memorable enough for me to remember earlier.”

He laughed. “Well, if you read my book and you believe I’ve patterned the protagonist after myself, you know I’m rather a stickler for good form. You insisted on the dividing of our land, so to speak, and you appear about to break our deal.”

She rolled her eyes. “Look, maybe I didn’t think this thing all the way through. I have to go to the bathroom, okay?”

“Absolutely,” he said with a grin. “I believe I spotted an outhouse just behind the cabin. I’m sure it will suffice for your purposes.”

“Are you kidding me right now?”

He shrugged. “I’m perfectly willing to dissolve our deal, love,” he said grinning down at her. “After all, spending time in the company of a beautiful woman is no chore. You’re the one who insisted on boundaries, and as a gentleman I’m bound to respect your wishes. The question is…are you?”

Emma growled. “Fine!” she said turning toward the cabin door. “I’ll, use the stupid outhouse, but if I freeze to death out there, I’m coming back to haunt you.”

He stopped her before she could reach the door. “I’m not such a cad as to make a lady use an outhouse in the middle of a blizzard. Of course you can use the indoor facilities.”

“How generous of you,” Emma said dryly. “But just because I’m breaking our ‘accord’ as you so ridiculously call it, don’t think that means I’m open to flirting.”

“Why Swan,” he said, mock innocence plastered all over his admittedly handsome face, “I wouldn’t dream of it. And as I recall, you’re the only one of us who’s mentioned flirtation. Could it be the lady doth protest too much?”

Emma was rather proud of herself that she managed to not punch him in the face.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After the bathroom incident Swan had finally acknowledged the ridiculousness of her insistence upon dividing the cabin. They'd agreed to dissolve their accord--although Swan was quite insistent they continue keeping to themselves.

Killian turned over yet again, still searching in vain for a comfortable position on this torture device Dave called a sofa. As Killian promised, he’d been a perfect gentleman last night, and as a gentleman, he’d of course offered to take the sofa so she could have the bed.

In the somewhat dull light of day, his neck was rather regretting that decision. Could his mate have possibly purchased a more uncomfortable piece of furniture than this couch?

Killian sat up and stretched, groaning at the crick in his neck. This vacation was turning out to be far more painful than he’d anticipated. Wandering over to the kitchen area, he found that Dave and Mary Margaret had stocked it quite well. Whatever else was in store for Emma and him over the next few days, they certainly didn’t need to worry about starving to death.

Killian set about brewing coffee, frying bacon and scrambling eggs. He’d only just popped some bread in the toaster, when he heard the other inhabitant of the cabin stir, and start moving in his general direction.

“Something smells amazing,” she said, stepping beside him and eying the coffeepot with undisguised longing. “I’m not exactly the best in the kitchen.”

Killian poured a steaming mug of coffee and handed it to her. “I’ve made far more than I can eat. You’re welcome to share my morning meal with me.”

She looked conflicted for a moment, and then nodded, taking a sip of her coffee. “Wouldn’t want the food to go to waste.”

“No we wouldn’t want that,” he said with a grin.

Breakfast, as it happened, was a surprisingly enjoyable meal. Killian found he rather liked Emma Swan when she wasn’t yelling at him. She was positively pleasant after she’d been fed. Perhaps the holiday spirit–it was Christmas Eve morning after all–had infected her.

Killian was far more intrigued with the woman than he’d like to admit. This was the first time he’d felt any real pull toward another woman since Milah’s death, and a portion of him felt disloyal to her memory.

But a bigger part of him was so captivated with the woman sitting across from him at the cabin’s only table that he didn’t care.

“So, tell me a little more about yourself,” he said as he reached for another piece of bacon. “Who exactly are you, Swan?”

She grinned rather teasingly up at him, and the look actually made his heart stutter before it began racing. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she asked.

“Perhaps I would.”

As breakfast progressed, Killian learned quite a bit about Emma Swan–more, he’d wager, than she’d intended to tell him. She was the single mother of a sweet, precocious ten year old named Henry. Things had ended badly, to say the least, with her ex-Neal, who’d not only left her while she was pregnant but set her up to take the fall for his own crime.

The longer she spoke about the son of a bitch, the more Killian wanted to hunt him down and pummel him. One could not find much worse form than that, nor more stupidity. What absolute imbecile would leave a woman like Emma Swan?

Neal, as it happened, was the reason for her rather bad mood this year. A year after the relationship had ended, Neal had shown back up, and though Emma had no intention of ever rekindling the relationship, she did want Henry to have the opportunity to get to know his father. They'd fallen into a reasonably cordial situation as co-parents. This year it was Neal's turn to have Henry for Christmas.

Christmas without her lad simply didn’t feel like Christmas at all.

“I don’t grudge him the chance to spend time with his dad,” Emma said as they worked together to clean up the kitchen. “It’s just. I miss him, you know?”

He smiled gently down at her. “Aye,” he said simply, “and you’re perfectly within your rights to miss him. I regret that I’m not the guy you wished to spend the holidays with, but I’ll attempt to at least not make your week worse.”

She glanced over at him. “Yeah, well feeding me goes a long way toward that goal. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

After breakfast they lapsed into silence, each retreating to their own chair before the festively decorated tree. Emma lost herself in a book, while Killian booted up his laptop and tried to begin his novel.

The cursor glared back at him in the midst of a sea of blank, empty Word document.

“So how’s it going?” Emma asked an hour later. “Want to give me a preview of what Captain Hook is going to do next?”

“I’d love to,” he said with a wry grin, “if I had even the first bloody clue. I’m afraid my muse has definitively deserted me. I haven’t any idea what is next for the good captain.”

She glanced off into the distance for a moment before turning back to him. “You know,” she said, “it seems to me one of Hook’s biggest regrets in the first book was giving up Baelfire to Pan. Maybe you could revisit that theme again. Maybe, I don’t know, Bae grew up after he left Neverland and had a kid of his own. What if that kid got taken by Pan too? What if Hook decided to go back to Neverland to save him?”

The ember of an idea lit within him as soon as Swan made her suggestion. “It has merit,” he said, fanning the flame that had taken hold. “Perhaps he assists the child’s mother in rescuing her son from the bloody demon.”

“Exactly!” Emma said. “He could complete his hero transformation, make amends for past mistakes and find love again all at once!”

In his minds eye, Killian saw the dark jungles of Neverland, a rag-tag group of heroes on a rescue mission, Captain Hook slowly and inexorably falling in love with a strong woman with long blonde hair and flashing green eyes.

His fingers danced over the keys as the story began pouring out of him. It would seem his muse wasn’t gone after all; she’d merely needed Emma Swan to coax her out of hiding.

He must make a note to thank David for the scheduling mistake. This was shaping up to be one of the best Christmases he’d ever had.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Christmas morning dawned bright and clear the next day, sun streaming through the cabin’s windows, snow glittering on the panes like tiny diamonds.

Emma was warm and comfortable and oh so cozy.

Suddenly she realized just why she was so cozy. An arm was draped over her middle and a warm, solid man held her to him.

How had she and Killian ended up so tangled together?

Last night as bedtime approached, Emma had noticed Killian eying the sofa with clear regret. That thing couldn’t have been comfortable the night before, and Emma felt no small amount of guilt that she’d been the cause of that discomfort.

It was the guilt that inspired her next suggestion. That was it. Guilt and nothing more. It wasn’t that she found herself genuinely enjoying Killian’s company. It certainly wasn’t that a big part of her wondered what it would be like to share a bed with him–even in the most innocent sense of the word.

Nope. That couldn’t be it at all.

“Look, the bed’s plenty big,” she said a bit awkwardly. “‘If you want to, you know, share it with me tonight, I wouldn’t have a problem with it.”

He glanced up at her in surprise before a teasing glint entered his eyes. “Why Swan, are you propositioning me?”

Her heart raced far too quickly at the thoughts those words elicited. There was a distinct possibility she was in significant trouble here.

“Boundaries, Jones,” she said. “We’re both adults. I think we can manage to share a bed and keep our hands to ourselves.”

“Shame,” he said with a rather adorable little pout.

She laughed.

They’d fallen asleep last night with a good two feet of space between them.

Clearly sometime in the middle of the night they’d sought out each other’s warmth. Emma waited for the fear to seep in at the closeness, but it never came. She was just so damn cozy.

Oh gods, she’d somehow wandered into a Hallmark movie.

Her stirring must have woken Killian, and a moment later he opened his eyes, and nearly jumped away from her, his cheeks staining bright red.

“My apologies, love,” he said in a soft voice, gravelly from sleep (a voice that did things to her. Serious things.) “I didn’t mean to take advantage; wasn’t aware I had.”

She smiled, charmed at how flustered he’d become.

“Don’t apologize,” she said. “You’re warm….and it’s really cold out there today.”

He grinned, and she saw the mischief in his eyes. “If you’re cold, I’ve no doubt I can think of ways to remedy that. I’m endlessly resourceful.”

The way his voice lowered to a very suggestive growl on the last phrase made her shiver. She wasn’t even going to pretend it was due to the cold this time. “Think I’ll have to take a rain check on that,” she said, far more breathlessly than she’d like, “but it’s still early. More sleep sounds good. If you wanted to, you know, go back to the way we were, I wouldn’t object.”

He looked surprised at her suggestion. She was surprised at her suggestion. It wasn’t like it meant anything; it wasn’t like they’d ever actually see each other again after they were finally able to leave the cabin. What would it hurt to take a little innocent comfort in each other while they were here.

What happened in the cabin stayed in the cabin.

“As you wish,” he said, scooting closer to her and once again wrapping his arm around her middle. It felt so good; so right. Maybe when she was back to reality it would hit her what a bad idea this was, but for now, she would just enjoy her warm human blanket. Smiling at the comfort, she drifted back to sleep.

An hour later she woke again, feeling Killian’s even breathing against her back. Carefully she maneuvered out of the bed, leaving him peacefully sleeping.

Donning her fluffy, warm slippers and an equally fluffy black robe, she padded over to the kitchen area. If she knew Mary Margaret, she’d have stocked the kitchen with everything a vacationer could want. Opening the first cabinet she smiled. Boxed pancake mix. Bingo.

As previously acknowledged, culinary skills Emma did not have, but anyone could manage a “just add water” mix, and in no time she’d poured her first pancakes into the skillet.

Emma heard rustling, and a moment later, she felt Killian step up behind her. “Something smells delicious,” he growled.

She shuddered, the sound of his low voice making her stomach swoop. “It’s just from a box,” she said, her voice far from steady.

He stepped even closer, until she could feel his warmth against her back. “I wasn’t talking about the pancakes.”

Emma nearly groaned, and no small part of her wanted to just turn around, say “to hell with the pancakes” and kiss him senseless, but fortunately she hadn’t lost her mind completely. Yet.

“Behave yourself,” she said again, grinning at his antics in spite of herself. “Go make yourself useful and start the coffee,” she said, waving her spatula in the general direction of the device in question.

He let out a long-suffering sigh and turned to do as she asked.

Dramatic idiot.

Breakfast turned out quite well if she did say so herself. The pancakes were warm and fluffy, and slathered in butter and syrup, were everything she could have wished for.

“I must say, Swan,” Killian said, sometime later, setting down his fork and dabbing at the corner of his mouth with his napkin, “for someone who claims to be hopeless in the kitchen, you provided a rather delectable breakfast.

Emma felt her heart squeeze, and she glanced aside. “Yeah, well, it’s always been our tradition that I make Henry anything he wants for Christmas morning. Nine times out of ten, that’s pancakes. Making them now…well it just makes it feel a little more like he’s with me.”

A moment later, she felt his hand cover hers. She turned to meet warm, sympathetic eyes. “I’m sorry you can’t be with your lad for Christmas morning. I know how hard that must be.”

She shrugged. “Neal may be a bastard, but it’s clear he loves our kid and he’s doing everything he can to be a good dad. I’d be a pretty crap mom to complain about my kid getting a chance to have a real relationship with his father.”

“Perhaps,” Killian said, “but it’s only human to miss him on such a special day.”

She didn’t respond to that. What, after all, was there to say? It was what it was.

“We’ve had breakfast,” Killian said a moment later. “Were you with your boy, what else might Christmas Day entail?”

“Well, presents, obviously,” Emma said, “and then assuming we had snow, we’d probably go out and make a snowman. Maybe come in for some cocoa and Christmas movies.”

Killian got to his feet, gathering up both his plate and hers. “Very well,” he said, “As you so generously prepared the meal, I’ll clean up. In the meantime, go on and get ready.”

“Get ready for what?”

Killian gestured to the window. “By my calculation, we got a good foot of snow yesterday. More than enough to make a most impressive snowman.”

Emma laughed. “Are you serious?”

“Why not?” he shrugged, before turning serious. “Swan, you deserve a happy Christmas, even if it can’t be with your lad.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Impressive,” Emma said, taking a step back to survey their masterpiece. “Looks good, doesn’t it?”

Killian looked over at her, noticed the way the joy sparkled in her eyes and the cold made her cheeks rosy. She was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at her. “Magnificent”, he breathed.

She turned toward him, and if possible, the color on her cheeks deepened at his admiration. Quickly, she turned back toward the large snowman they’d spent the balance of the morning constructing. “He needs something though. He looks cold, doesn’t he?”

Killian grinned. “Cold is rather a requirement of a creature made of snow.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “You know what I mean. He needs a hat or a scarf or something.”

Killian unwound the simple black scarf from around his neck and drew in a deep breath at the chill suddenly surrounding him. “Better?” he asked after he’d properly clothed the snowman.

“Better for Frosty,” she said, giving Killian an assessing look, “but you’ve got to be freezing.”

“Offering to warm me up, darling?” he asked with an exaggerated wag of his brows.

Emma laughed, shoving his shoulder playfully. “You really need some new material. You’ve used the same innuendo on me like three times this weekend.”

“Why Swan,” he said with a feigned look of innocence, “What a dirty mind you’ve got. I simply meant to inquire after the hot cocoa you promised would follow our morning in the snow.”

Killian thought he could listen to the delightful sound of her laughter for the rest of his life.

As they trudged back into the inviting warmth of the cabin and set to work on the aforementioned cocoa, what he’d just thought hit him. He genuinely enjoyed Emma Swan’s company, and he’d like to have it for longer than simply a snowed-in weekend.

Was there any possibility that she’d be agreeable should he one day ask to court her?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Later that night, as the shadows began to lengthen and the sunset painted the sky in lovely shades of pink and purple, Emma sat cross-legged in front of the entertainment center, rifling through the DVDs the Nolans had stocked the cabin with. It seemed they had every Christmas movie ever made.

After some debate, it was decided that Emma and Killian would watch “A Christmas Story” as an end to a surprisingly enjoyable Christmas day. After making their snowman and drinking their cocoa, they’d made Christmas cookies, and then Emma had settled in with a good book while Killian typed away at his latest novel, the muse finally deciding to cooperate, it seemed.

The truth was that Killian was surprisingly good company. He had a wit and charm that was truly genuine once he dropped the endless flirting and innuendo (that Emma was coming to realize was as much his armor as anything else. You can keep people at bay when they dismiss you as a player.) The conversation today had been easy, effortless, and congenial.

Emma found that despite her initial impression of him, she actually liked Killian Jones, and she would be disappointed when this weekend was over and they had to go their separate ways.

Maybe….maybe the end of the weekend didn’t have to be the end of their new friendship (or whatever it might develop into).

That night, after the movie, there was no discussion about sleeping arrangements. They simply climbed into the bed together, Killian gathering her toward him with an arm around her middle. The fact that she loved the way this felt was something she’d need to examine more closely at some point, but for this night, she was just so comfortable she drifted immediately into a happy, peaceful sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Killian’s cell phone buzzed first thing the next morning, and he rolled reluctantly away from the woman in his arms to grab the device and peer at the caller ID.

Dave

“Killian,” David started as soon as he’d answered sleepily. “Again, I’m sorry about the mix up. I hope it hasn’t been too much of an inconvenience.”

“Not at all, mate,” Killian said. “I’ve found Swan to be rather enjoyable company.”

There was silence for a moment, and Killian could nearly feel the suspicion bleeding off of his friend. “I certainly hope you’re not having too enjoyable of a time. She’s not one of your conquests, Killian.”

Killian rolled his eyes. He knew David Nolan was protective of his wife’s best friend; viewed her almost as the sister he never had. “Relax, Dave. I’ve been the perfect gentleman.”

“Good,” David said, “Keep it that way.”

Killian rolled his eyes again.

“Anyway,” David continued, “I’m just calling to let you know that the plows have been through and your path should be clear whenever you want to leave. Oh, and Merry Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas to you too.” Killian said in lieu of a farewell.

“David call with good news?” Emma asked sleepily as she rolled over and propped herself up on her elbows.

“The best,” he said, though a part of him felt a pang of regret that the happy bubble they’d been forced into was about to burst. “The roads are clear. We can leave whenever we wish.”

“Oh,” she said, glancing aside and looking (dare he hope) a mite disappointed. “Yeah, that’s good. I…I guess I should gather up my stuff and hit the road. I’ve got a few things I need to do before Henry gets home the day after tomorrow.”

“Aye, I suppose it’s for the best,” Killian agreed, though a large part of him wanted nothing more than to object.

Over the course of the next half hour they worked in silence gathering their things and preparing to depart. When all was put to rights and there was nothing left to do, Killian stopped Emma from turning toward the door with a hand to her arm.

“Before we leave, I have a Christmas gift for you, love.”

She looked surprised at the sheets of paper he handed her.

“It isn’t much,” he said, “but in between working on my novel I wrote a bit of a short story for you.”

She murmured her thanks, and immediately began reading. Not a paragraph in, a delighted smile covered her face, and she met his eyes. “It’s our story! The story of this weekend.”

“Aye,” he answered, smiling back at her warmly. “Go on. Read it.”

She nodded in agreement, settling in on the sofa and pulling her feet up beneath her. She read steadily for a quarter of an hour, and when she reached the final page, she frowned, turned it over, and then looked up at him, confusion in her eyes.

“Killian, it’s not finished,” she said. “How does it end?”

Killian took a deep breath. Now was the moment of truth. Now was the moment this Christmas either became one of the best of his life…or one of the most disappointing.

“That’s rather up to you, Swan,” he said. “I was hoping it would end with you giving me your phone number and agreeing to a date in the very near future.”

Her eyes rounded, and Killian had a moment of anxiety as he waited for her answer.

She didn’t answer with words. She answered by scooting closer to him, grabbing his lapels and pulling him down to her for a long and rather thorough kiss.

As it happened, that was all the answer he needed.

NEXT CHAPTER->

#cs fanfiction #cs christmas reruns 2024 #my fanfiction #the christmas cabin

2 notes · View notes

whimsicallyenchantedrose · 8 months ago

Text

Christmas Reruns 2024–Day 24: How the Witch Stole Christmas

Word Count: 2714

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 1 7 18 19 20 21 22 23 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Note: This story was first posted yesterday as a Secret Santa gift for @captainswan-kellie

“Thanks, Killian! Maybe we could go out on your boat again sometime,” Henry said as he bounded into their room at Granny’s.

“Anytime, lad,” Killian said softly, and Emma felt her heart turn over at the affection she heard in Hook’s voice toward her son. If she stopped to think about it too closely, it would scare the daylights out of her, how much she was coming to depend on him and lean on him in the midst of the latest craziness.

But that was a concern for another day. For right now, she just wanted to celebrate another day where they were still standing and the villain of the day hadn’t succeeded.

“How did the queen fare against the witch?” Killian asked, as though reading her thoughts. It was kind of unsettling how effortlessly he was able to do that..

“She survived, but the rest is definitely more than a doorway conversation,” Emma said, suddenly feeling tired as she recalled the showdown in the middle of town square.

She was about to thank him again, when suddenly her phone rang.

“Hey Mary Margaret, what’s up?” she asked, seeing her mother’s picture on the screen when she pulled the device from her back pocket.

“Can you and Hook meet us down in the parlor in say five minutes?” Mary Margaret asked.

“Sure?” she said, the word coming out more of a question than a statement. “What’s up? Is everything okay? Did the witch–”

“Oh nothing like that,” Mary Margaret said. “Don’t worry. Your father and I just had an idea.”

Killian gave her a concerned look as she hung up the phone. “Another crisis, Swan?”

“I don’t think so,” she said slowly. “That was Mary Margtaret and she sounded….excited. She wants us to meet her in the parlor. Just give me a second to tell the kid where I’m off to.”

Five minutes later, they found themselves seated on a loveseat in front of a merrily roaring fire in Granny’s parlor, an equally confused–and annoyed, from the look of it–Regina sitting across from them.

Before any of them had a chance to speculate what was up, Mary Margaret and David breezed in, cheeks reddened from the cold and a few stray snowflakes in their hair.

“Brr! It’s cold out there,” Mary Margaret said with a smile, “and it’s starting to snow–which is just perfect.”

Emma shot Killian a bemused look, and he shrugged, clearly as at a loss as she was.

“Mom,” Emma said, hoping to win some favor by using the familial term. “What’s all this about? Is there a new threat from Zelena? Did something else happen?”

“Oh nothing like that!” Mary Margaret said. “We called you all here because, well, tomorrow’s Christmas Eve.”

“Tomorrow’s….Christmas Eve?” Killian said blankly.

“Oh come on, Hook,” David said, “we had Christmas back in our land. Surely you know what it is!”

“Of course I bloody know what Christmas is,” Killian bit out. “What I fail to grasp is why that warrants a meeting of the heroes.”

“We have to plan a celebration, of course!” Mary Margaret said, nearly bounding on her chair. And there’s no time to waste!”

Regina gave her erstwhile enemy a look of disbelief. “My insane half sister is running around, trying to steal hearts and courage and who the hell knows what else, and you want to plan a party?”

A look of steely determination came into Mary Margaret’s face. “Yes, that’s exactly what I want to do,” she said. “I don’t know what the witch has planned. I don’t know how she plans to go about getting what she wants, but I do know one thing: when this town comes together we don’t fail. I refuse to let her steal the joy of the holiday from me or my family–or my town!”

“And the best way to stop her is to set up a Christmas tree and drink eggnog and give each other presents we don’t want anyway?” Regina continued.

“Couldn’t hurt,” David said.

“Of course it could!” Regina exploded. “Who knows what she’ll get accomplished while we galavant around town like idiots!”

“Swan? What do you think?” Killian asked, turning toward her.

She thought for a moment before formulating her answer. “I say, screw her,” she said finally. “Whatever insane plot she’s hatching, she’s basically acting like a spoiled kid, and what do you do with a spoiled kid? You ignore them. She wants to throw a temper tantrum, we’ll be ready for her.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, Zelena adjusted her hat, and then poofed herself out of her farmhouse to the edge of town, curious to see the effect her showdown with her pathetic younger sister had on the rest of the town.

She’d defeated her handily, thanks in part to her secret, Dark One, weapon.

Would the town be cowering in fear? Would they be huddled together trying to prepare for whatever new hell Zelena planned for them?

She looked around, and her brows furrowed in confusion. There was no spirit of fear or concern in the air. There was an air of excitement, of festivity. Grumpy and the rest of the dwarf’s were dragging a huge pine tree onto the square and untangling strands of lights. Marco and Archie hung decorations on light posts. Belle sang a Christmas carol as she strung garland on the door of library.

Zelena huddled farther into the large coat she’d donned to hide her identity for her reconnaissance mission. Stepping into Granny’s, she noticed the core group of heroes–along with Granny and Ruby were engaged in a strategy meeting.

But it wasn’t any kind of strategy meeting she would have expected. They seemed to be planning….a party.

“Should there be a gift exchange?” Mary Margaret asked.

“Put together in one day?” Regina asked skeptically.

“Why not?” Mary Margaret said. “What kind of Christmas party doesn’t even have a gift exchange? We could make it a game. A white elephant gift exchange!”

They were planning a party? The morning after she’d so soundly defeated her younger sister? Had they all gone crazy?

Wordlessly, Zelena slipped out of the diner. They thought to ignore her and the threat she posed? She’d see about that!

As she made her way back to her farmhouse, an idea came to her mind. A wonderful, terrible idea

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“So….the whole town is having a Christmas party?” Henry asked as he, Emma and Killian walked from their rooms toward the diner bright and early on Christmas morning.

“That they are lad,” Killian said, smiling delightedly. “Replete with gifts, games and holiday treats.”

“But…but weren’t you all just working to find the person who killed my dad, and how you’re having a party?” he asked.

Emma stopped and put a comforting hand on her son’s shoulder. “Kid, don’t worry, we’ll catch her. We just can’t stop living while we do. We can’t let her steal our joy.”

“Your father would want you to enjoy the season,” Killian added.

“But….are we safe?” Henry persisted.

A steely look came into Emma’s eyes. “The only person who isn’t safe is the w–I mean the killer, if she tries anything today.”

He looked closely at her for a moment. The kid had an unsettling way of looking for lies–much like she’d always had. Finally, he nodded. “Cool. So what does this town do for Christmas?”

“I guess we’re about to find out,” Emma said. “And kid…this town is….different, so don’t be surprised if some of their…traditions…are kind of weird.”

“Hey, I’m a kid,” Henry said. “As long as there are presents and sweets I’m happy.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The party went off without a hitch–until late in the afternoon. Frankly Killian was shocked how long it took for the witch to strike.

They’d just finished a delectable Christmas dinner and were setting up for the white elephant gift exchange–which would no doubt prove to be interesting, given the fact at least four of the dwarves were well into their cups by that point, and Happy was fully inebriated–when a tremendous clatter was heard outside the diner.

As one, the residents of Storybrooke fled to the door and windows to see what was happening.

Zelena, in full on green skin, black dress and hat walked purposely toward them, while a band of flying monkeys screamed to each other, tearing decorations from windows and doors, destroying the carefully decorated tree.

A loud murmur of concern and fear went through the assembly as the witch approached. Henry, for his part, gave his mother a bemused look.

“Uh…” she said, thinking hard, “this is….this is…”

“The traditional Christmas interactive play,” Regina said, coming to her aid.

“She looks like the Wicked Witch of the West,” Henry said, skeptically. “What does she have to do with Christmas?”

“It’s the green skin,” Emma said. “She’s like… the grinch.”

“So….you do an interactive Grinch play starring the Wicked Witch of the West?”

Fortunately, Swan was saved answering that question by the arrival of the witch herself.

“Well, isn’t this a festive assembly?” Zelena said, walking in confidently. “Didn’t get enough the other night, sis?”

Without further ado, Zelena raised her hands, called on all of her magic, and…..nothing happened.

“What the hell?” she asked, looking down at her hands.

“Protection spell,” Regina said, gesturing around the diner. “Covers the whole place. Sorry to ruin your greatest Christmas wish, but your annoying green hands are tied here.”

“You can’t keep a spell that powerful up forever!” Zelena thundered. “Sooner or later I will break through.”

“Maybe so,” Regina continued. “But it won’t happen until after Christmas.”

“Look, greenie,” Emma said, “It’s Christmas. We’re all here to enjoy ourselves. You’ve got two options: leave us the hell alone, or get over yourself, grab an eggnog and act like an adult, rather than a spoiled child.”

Zelena looked murderous for another moment, and then her facade crumbled. “You’d really let me join your party? Knowing who I am? What I’m capable of? That I’m planning to destroy you all?”

Mary Margaret approached her with a cup of eggnog. “It’s Christmas, Zelena. Everyone deserves a little grace and a second chance at Christmas. I bet there’s even a gift for you under that tree.”

“Come join us,” David said. “After all, you can always go back to trying to destroy us tomorrow.”

Perhaps the magic of the season touched her. Perhaps she, like all the rest of them was simply tired. Perhaps her heart grew three sizes that day. Whatever the reason, after a long silence, in which it felt like no one so much as moved, the witch nodded and the party went on.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Much later that evening a bemused Zelena returned to her farmhouse. What manner of witchcraft had her spoiled sister used upon her? She’d gone to the town to destroy their Christmas, and instead they’d invited her in, allowed her to make merry with them, treated her as one of their own.

Was it possible she’d been wrong about them–wrong about everything?

No, she finally decided, sitting before the fire. No, she wouldn’t let a little reverse psychology derail her like that! Tomorrow it was back to business as usual. Tomorrow she went back to getting the ingredients she needed. Tomorrow she took the next step toward getting what she truly deserved–a life in which her sister had never been born. A life in which she was the favored and only daughter.

And, after all, tonight hadn’t been a complete waste. She’d gained some useful intel. It seemed the Savior and the pirate were quite close. The way they looked at each other. The way they sought each other out. Quite the budding romance there.

Perhaps she could use it to her advantage. Perhaps it was just what she needed to neutralize the savior. Just a little bit of manipulation, a little bit of deception, and she had no doubt she’d succeed in cursing the pirate’s lips and letting him do the rest for her.

Until then, she had a bigger problem. The whole noxious town had come together to work as one. She couldn’t have that. Couldn’t have that at all. She had to do something to wipe the warm fuzzies from everyone’s consciousness.

Looks like it was time for one last memory spell. Taking a vial from her bag, she uncorked it and let the fog waft from it toward the town.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“So kid, what did you think of Storybrooke Christmas?” Emma asked as the three of them headed back toward their rooms.

“Mom, this town is really, really weird,” he said.

“You don’t know the half of it,” she muttered under her breath.

“But,” he concluded, “it was a really good Christmas. Thanks for bringing me.”

She gave him a quick hug. “Kid, there’s no one in the world I’d rather spend Christmas with than you, no matter where or how we do it.”

“Me too, mom,” he said, returning her hug, before yawning loudly.

“Okay, time for bed, kid,” she said, opening their door, and gesturing inside. “I’ll be in in a moment. Just want to talk to Killian.”

She waited until the door was closed after him, and then turned back to Killian. “Well, it looks like a Christmas disaster was averted, and the kid’s no worse for the wear.”

“Your lad is stronger than you think, love,” Killian said softly, taking a step closer to her and hooking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. “And you did a fantastic job giving him a joyful and memorable Christmas.”

“You really think so?” she asked tentatively. “Killian, I never really had Christmas growing up the way I did, and so I always want to make sure Henry doesn’t feel the loss the way I did.”

“And he never will,” he said with a gentle smile, “because he has a mother who loves him. It makes up for any….less than perfect Christmas moment.”

Her heart turned over at the look he gave her. The look he was always giving her. He believed in her, really, truly believed in her. He was on her side and in her corner, no matter what. It didn’t matter what she did, what she said, how much she tried to push him away. He’d once told her he was in it for the long haul, and she was finally, finally beginning to suspect that he meant it.

She looked up at him for long moments as her heart pounded. If she didn’t step away soon, she was going to do something stupid. Like kiss him.

She should turn around, walk back into her room. Bid him good night.

But it was Christmas. The day had been magical. She was feeling good–and he was a big part of it.

Screw it. Tomorrow she’d go back to guarding her heart. For tonight. For one night only, she’d show him what his support meant to her.

Reaching up, she grabbed his lapels and pulled him down for a long, slow kiss. If he was surprised at her actions, he didn’t show it, merely pulling her close, and kissing her back just as fervently as he let his hand tangle in her hair.

Just how long the kiss would have gone on–and how passionate it would have become–Emma didn’t know, because just as she turned her head to deepen the kiss even further, she caught a faint wisp of–something (smoke? Fog? A spell?) out of the corner of her eye.

She pulled away, watching as the fog billowed toward them, and then overtook them, so quickly, she didn’t even have time to cry out.

But no sooner had the cloud overtaken them than it dissipated, and suddenly Emma couldn’t remember what they’d been doing or why.

She shook her head. The showdown between Regina and Zelena must have rattled her more than she’d thought.

“How did the queen fare against the witch?” Killian asked,

“She survived, but the rest is definitely more than a doorway conversation,” Emma replied. “Thanks again for taking him out on your ship.”

NEXT CHAPTER->

#cs secret santa 2024 #my fanfiction #3b “missing scene”

3 notes · View notes

whimsicallyenchantedrose · 8 months ago

Text

How the Witch Stole Christmas--A CS Secret Santa Fic

Note: Merry Christmas @captainswan-kellie! I was your Secret Santa this year! I hope you enjoy your gift, and I hope you have a merry Christmas and a happy New Year!

Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list):

@jennjenn615 @laschatzi @snowbellewells @iamanneenigma @kmomof4

@linda8084 @searchingwardrobes @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @facesiousbutton82

@therooksshiningknight @lfh1226-linda @tiganasummertree @jrob64 @anmylica

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @i-will-sing-no-requiem @bluewildcatfanatic @laianely

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~