First of all, merry belated Christmas to @cshappybeginning! I was your secret santa this year for @cssecretsanta2k18 and I’m terribly sorry this is late, but I hope you enjoy it. I couldn’t figure out a way to add CS 2.0 into this but I hope you will like some snow day/holiday fluff with a little bit of Hope and s7 Henry and family mixed in :)
A little dash of holiday spirit
word count: 2.5k
characters: emma, killian, baby hope, s7 henry mills, ella and lucy mills
also on A03.
Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Let your heart be light
From now on our troubles will be out of sight
The sound of the front door slamming shut awoke Killian from sleep. His eyes opened slowly to focus on his infant daughter, Hope, sleeping soundly next to him.
They’d found her name while pouring through the old storybook one afternoon, looking for some magical inspiration. The due date was soon, and they still hadn’t chosen a name between settling into a new routine, and the merging of the realms. Emma’s hand absentmindedly drifted slowly up and down over her rounded belly. And after what seemed like hours, her polished nail finally landed on the word hope, and Killian knew that it was the right name the second he heard her say it.
“It’s perfect,” she said.
Killian smiled and kissed Emma’s forehead. “She’ll always be a reminder to us of how we got here.”
Months later, Hope’s parents are standing next to her crib, peering over to watch her sleep. Emma rubbed the baby’s belly, straightening out the fabric of her little pink onesie.
“We love you, Hope.”
Killian smiled at the memory as he moves from beneath the covers. Gingerly, so as not to wake the baby, he turns out of the bed and slips his feet into his slippers, standing to stretch and adjust his clothes. According to Emma, snow days were for staying inside and wearing what they called “pajamas” all day, and now that he was experiencing it, he had to agree that it was quite a comfortable way to live. At least for a day.
(Or two).
He’d only meant to put Hope down for her morning nap, when he found himself snuggling in next to her and dozing off. He just couldn’t help himself - what with the snow falling gently outside and having the house all to themselves, as Emma had left for the grocery store to prepare for Henry’s arrival the following day. The holiday season had descended upon the Swan-Jones household in full force, and he’d found himself happily exhausted from helping Emma decorate the house that morning to get ready. He’d asked her to just use her magic to do things like unravel long strands of twinkling lights (“I’m working with a hook here, love.”). But Emma just smiled and refused, noting that it wasn’t a proper holiday season without cursing at a bundle of plastic lights.
He heard Emma shout from somewhere in the house. “Killian? I need a little help here!”
Killian set Hope into her crib nearby, laying her down softly and wincing as he heard Emma coming up the stairs, her boots loud on the hardwood floors.
Upon seeing their sleeping daughter, Emma stopped and made an apologetic face. She stepped towards Killian and smiled, wrapping her arms around his middle. “Sorry,” she whispered, “I didn’t know she was still asleep.”
“Aye, her and I both.”
Emma smiled again and leaned in for a kiss, which Killian happily returned.
“What did you need help with, love? I thought you were only getting a few things for tonight.”
Emma’s smile widened. “Come with me.”
-x-
“Merry Christmas, old man!”
Killian laughed in surprise as he came down the stairs to see Henry and his wife Ella standing before them, with their young daughter Lucy in tow.
“Henry, my boy,” he said, “it’s so good to see you all.” Killian wrapped Henry in a quick hug before moving to do the same with Ella and Lucy.
“I thought you all weren’t going to come until tomorrow,” he questioned.
“Well,” Ella started, “we had a change of plans. We were staying with Regina but something came up, so we thought we’d surprise you all a little early. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course it is,” Emma replied with a smile. “You guys are always welcome here, any time. Any day. You know that.”
After helping them settle into the guest room, Killian went outside to retrieve firewood. Upon entering the house again, a sweet smell drifted towards him. He shook off the snow from his boots and set them on the porch before coming inside. He set the firewood next to their living room fireplace, and smiled at Ella, who was sitting on the couch holding Hope, making silly noises in an attempt to make her smile. He walked into the kitchen as Emma placed a tray of freshly baked cookies on the counter. Holiday music from this world was playing from a small radio as she set them down and surveyed her work. She was wearing black pajama pants of her own and one of his blue shirts, with her hair tousled and laying in waves to her shoulders. He took a moment to indulge himself in the way she looked- she was beautiful no matter what she was wearing, but he especially loved her like this: comfortable, at ease, and happy. She only allowed herself this with certain people closest to her, and he counted himself lucky to be able to witness it.
He walked behind her and snaked his arms around her waist, leaning in to nuzzle the soft skin at her neck. She was startled at first, but soon melted into his touch.
“I’m almost done with the food for tonight. Thanks for getting the firewood. I feel like I could use a nap now,” she said, smiling.
“I’ve already taken one with Hope today and I feel the same way, love. That bed of ours is far too comfortable. It’s a miracle we’re ever able to get out of it.”
“Among other reasons,” she says, a hint of mischief on her tongue.
He hummed in agreement and held her tighter to his chest, lifting the hem of her shirt to trace circles on her hip. She sighed happily in reply. His attention was taken away momentarily by faintly heard movement from outside the kitchen in the foyer, but he dismissed it to continue his work.
(He only realized that he should have investigated the sound sooner, when he felt the cold, wet embrace of a snowball hard against his back).
After a few minutes of chasing Lucy around the house, laughing and shouting, he finally managed to catch her in the living room, where Emma had finally settled down on the couch with Ella, sipping on cups of earl grey tea. Henry was laying logs into the fireplace, and the fire slowly began to roar and crackle in the hearth as they all began to settle in.
“Now that we’re all here and my little sister has settled in for another nap upstairs,” Henry started, “I have an idea of how we could spend the rest of our snow day.”
Emma raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Is that so?”
“Yep,” he answered. “Mom, do you remember what we used to do when we lived in New York during snow days?”
Emma smiled knowingly. “Of course I do, kid. I just can’t believe you’re using the phrase ‘when I was little’ already.”
Henry shrugged. “Well, time works weird in our family. You know that.”
“I’m well aware of that,” Emma sighed, leaning back on the couch. “But you’ll always be ‘kid’ to me. You’re just gonna have to deal with that.”
Henry smiles. “I know.”
“Lad,” Killian interjects, “what was it that you wanted to do?”
“Oh!” Henry laughs. “Sorry. Okay, well, when I was little-probably about Lucy’s age, we would build pillow forts when it snowed outside. It was kind of a tradition, in what little time we had together that year in New York. We haven’t done it in a long time though, what with all the realm travelling and curse breaking and such.”
Lucy looks up in interest. “Pillow...forts?” she questioned.
“Yeah,” Henry answered. “It’s kind of like building a tent inside the house, but you can only use things you find around the house...like blankets and pillows and stuff.”
“Tent making, you say?” Killian said with an excited smile. “Lucy, I do believe we have the skills necessary to wipe the floor with this crew.”
Emma looks up from the baby, brows arching in shock. “Is that a challenge, Hook?”
Hook smiled and crossed his arms, a smug look stretching across his features. “What, are you scared, Swan?”
Ella leaned forward to set her tea down on the glass coffee table. “It’s you who should be scared, pirate. I think you are severely underestimating us.”
“We’ll see about that,” Killian replied. “How about this- Lucy and I versus the three of you. Show us what you’re made of. Winners get the satisfaction of knowing they are the superior tent makers. And they get first dibs at the cookies later.”
Emma and Henry share a knowing look, and then she stood from the couch and stretched out her hand for him to shake. “Deal.”
Killian gave her hand a firm shake, and then turned to Lucy. “You ready, mate?”
Lucy smiled excitedly, already looking around the room for things to use.
Henry looked up to speak to Emma, an eager smile on his face. “Mom, you know what to do.”
Emma was already on the move and shouted from a nearby room. “Yep!”
“Oh, I forgot to mention,” warned Killian, “no magic allowed!”
Emma poked her head back around the doorway. Her lips turn upwards as she scrunches her nose in confidence. “You must have forgotten that we didn’t always have magic in Storybrooke, or New York for that matter.
He could tell by the way she was smiling that she was up to something, and he couldn’t wait to see what she had up her sleeve. Nevertheless, as she left the room to hunt for supplies, he found himself wondering what exactly he’d gotten himself into.
Half an hour later, Killian and Lucy had constructed what they felt to be a pretty decent fort, by overturning the couch, propping up the pillows around it and laying a light sheet over the top to give them some space. Lucy had even brought down some of her stuffed animals. She arranged the little foxes and rabbits around the tent and surveyed her work.
“Well, Papa Hook, I think we’re done here.”
Killian nods in agreement. “Aye, lass. Perfectly sturdy craftsmanship, if I do say so myself.”
A few minutes pass, and he can still hear Emma, Ella, and Henry moving about.
“Almost done out there?” he called out.
Henry calls back. “Just about…”
A few minutes later, Henry tells them it's okay to come out and look.
Lucy audibly gasped as they took in the sight- a pillow fort fit for royalty. Emma and Henry had used multiple pieces of furniture, including the coat rack, kitchen chairs, and bookshelves. Emma had placed the coat rack in the middle, and draped a large sheet over the top. They’d pulled it taut and tied ends of it to the curtain poles, as well as weighing down the other sides with heavy books on top of the shelves and chairs. It was tall enough for them both to stand up inside. Ella had added pillows and blankets to the floor, creating a cozy haven. Henry had even constructed a small doorway with a door constructed out of cardboard he’d pulled from the recycling bin.
“Can we come in?!” Lucy asked, eager to see the inside.
Emma laughed from inside their tent and Ella spoke up. “Only when Papa Hook admits that his tent making skills pale in comparison to ours.”
Lucy pulled on Killian’s shirt sleeve in desperation. “Hook, say it!”
Killian smiled and sighed in defeat. “I, Captain Killian Jones, hereby declare that Emma Swan-Jones and Henry and Ella Mills are the best tent makers in all the realms.”
Emma, Henry, and Ella emerged from their tent victorious, and Henry took a bow as Emma ruffled his hair.
“That is quite the honor,” Emma said with a smile. “We’ve had a lot of practice though... yours is very nice, too!”
Killian knew she said it for Lucy’s sake, who had been very proud of her tent until she’d seen her parent’s.
Emma walked over to Killian and Lucy’s tent as they all looked on. “I love the way you’ve used our pillows,” she said in admiration. “And the animals! Lucy, were those your idea?”
Lucy nodded meekly and stepped closer to Emma.
“What a neat idea,” Emma said, kneeling down to Lucy’s level. She picked up a stuffed red fox and turned it over in her hands. “Our tent doesn’t have any of these.”
Lucy looked up at her. “You can borrow some for your tent, if you want.”
Henry looked over at Emma. “Hey Mom, I have an even better idea.”
Emma stood and smiled, handing the little fox back to Lucy. “I’m way ahead of you, kid.”
Seconds later (with a quick wave of her hands), Emma had used her magic to combine the two tents, creating the biggest tent the Swan-Jones house had ever known.
Lucy squealed with delight, falling into the pile of blankets and pillows as Killian pulled Emma in for a hug. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Emma smiled knowingly and then turned back to Lucy, kneeling back down to her level.
“What do you think now?” she asked with a hopeful smile.
Lucy smiled wide and threw her arms about Emma’s neck, squeezing her tight. Emma laughed and held her close, flooded with memories of when Henry was once that small.
Lucy pulled back and nodded happily. “I love it, Gemma. Thank you.”
Emma smiled back at her young granddaughter. “Would you like to see something really special?”
Lucy nodded and they all looked on as Emma held out her hands between them, palms facing up towards the ceiling of their tent.
She closed her eyes and focused on her magic, until little sparks of light were emerging from her palms. The little lights began to float up and around them, lighting up the tent from the inside, as if they were surrounded by fireflies.
They all look up in awe, a soft “Woah…” echoing through the tent.
Emma turned to look at Killian, but realized that at some point, he’d stepped out of the tent.
“Killian?”
“Coming!” he answered from upstairs.
A moment later, he emerged into the tent again, holding Hope in his arms.
“Aw, well hello there little one,” Emma said lovingly, softly touching her baby’s cheek. “That was quite a nap you had today, huh?”
Hope looked up at Emma and cooed at her, before her eyes turned to the little lights floating above them.
Killian smiled at his wife. “I didn’t want her to miss this.”
Emma’s smile turned up again and she looked at him with love in her eyes, grateful to have this incredibly thoughtful man in her life, and even more grateful that Hope would have him as a father.
“Merry Christmas, Emma,” he said as he placed a kiss to her forehead. “I hope it’s everything you dreamt it would be.”
“It’s even better,” she replied.
They settled down together among the pillows and blankets on the floor with little Hope between them, as Henry taught Lucy how to roast a marshmallow over the fire. The snow continued to fall outside, covering their world in peace and quiet unlike any Storybrooke had ever known. And with the settling of the snow, Emma and her little family huddled together for warmth, taking ample time to enjoy the happy ending they’d all fought so hard to gain.
Here is my extremely late gift to @cshappybeginning (okay, it’s not letting me tag you?! Wtf is that?!) for Captain Swan Secret Santa. Once again, I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get your gift to you!! I really enjoyed chatting with you this past holiday season, and was really excited to work on a nice fluffy Christmas fic for you. I hope it lives up to your expectations, and I hope anybody else reading enjoys it too!
Special thanks to @joneskillian for doing a quick beta on this for me!
So without any further ado (god, I’m horrible for taking so long to post this), here’s some Captain Swan and little CS baby Christmas fluff (and some Captain Charming on the side because I couldn’t help myself!)...
-----
Killian stood against the wall near the stairs, sipping occasionally from the mug of rum-laced hot cocoa as he observed his wife’s frazzled grumbling from their living room floor. Her lap was awash in harsh, colorful lights, a jumbled spiderweb of cords creating a haphazard circle around her.
“You sure you don’t need a hand, love?” He questioned in an amused tone. It earned him a green-eyed glare, though the pout on her face made the menace of it practically non-existent. He took another sip from his warm drink.
“You’re not funny.”
Swallowing, Killian licked at his lips and pushed off the wall. “I’m quite the comedian, actually.” He nodded as he slowly stepped in her direction. “It’s not my fault,” He tiptoed over strands of mismatched lights, coming to a crouch at her side. “Your sense of humor isn’t exactly present at the moment.” At her continued glare, he held out his mug towards her. “Maybe this will help, hmm?”
“Oh yes, getting drunk is gonna help so much.” Emma scoffed, managing to untangle her fingers from the troublesome strand in her hand to shove the drink back towards him lightly. “We’re already two weeks late, Killian. I wanted this year to be so special and thanks to us being…” She waved her hand around her in frustration. “Us, off realm hopping to keep this damn place safe from yet another dumb villain, it’s late and basically we’re the worst parents ever and she’s not even two yet!”
Killian stared at her patiently, once more reaching the rum-chocolate out towards her. He shook it a fraction, one brow raising in suggestion. As he suspected, Emma caved upon the second offering, taking it with an aggravated growl before pulling a healthy slug from the mug. “This isn’t gonna help.” She mumbled before moving to take another, smaller sip.
Hand now free, Killian started to extract his wife from the mound of wiring she’d managed to cover herself in. Emma whined in protest, mouth full of warm beverage, but didn’t make any move to stop his. She whined even more as he started to pull her to her feet, still not putting any effort into trying to get him to quit.
“I beg to differ, Swan.” He took one of her hands from where it was wrapped around the mug, using it to guide her away from the lights and toward the coffee table. The surface was littered in boxes and he unceremoniously shoved them to the floor with his hook, earning an exasperated ‘Killian’ from Emma. He ignored it, choosing instead to guide her so she was seated on the sturdy wood. She plopped down with a sigh, glancing up at him. “It’ll help you relax.”
Emma rolled her eyes, but took another sip from the cup anyways. “I don’t need to relax. I need to make it Christmas for our daughter like we didn’t already fuck it up.”
Taking the mug and setting it off to the side, Killian crouched down again. He pressed his hook against her knee and placed his hand against her cheek, slowly brushing his thumb against her warm skin. “We didn’t fuck it up, Emma.” The look she gave him was incredulous. It didn’t deter him. “As you said, our girl isn’t hardly two. She’s not gonna know the difference between the actual holiday and two weeks later. Especially not when those two weeks were spent frolicking around Arabian palaces and the snow banks of Arendelle.”
Emma snorted and grabbed for the drink again, causing Killian to sit back on his heels. His hook was still firmly anchored to her knee, the curve of it brushing up and down in small, soothing strokes. “I guess you’re right.” She shrugged reluctantly. She glanced down into the mug, thumb moving over the ceramic surface. “I just want her to have as normal a life as possible, you know?”
The way she looked at him, so earnest and open - trusting in a way that still made his heart soar, had Killian offering an understanding smile. “I know.” He leaned in and pressed a comforting kiss against her lips. When he pulled away, he didn’t go too far, resting his forehead against hers. “But darling, her parents are the Savior and Captain Hook.” He whispered conspiratorially, causing her to snort. It made him smirk. “Normal isn’t really what we deal in.”
“Just wit and rum.” She replied with humor in her voice.
Killian pulled back fully, smile widening as he went. “Aye.” He patted at her leg. “Now what say I get to work on untangling these dreadful lights while you fetch said rum? Might as well have a bit of fun while we go, hmm?” He lowered his gaze to look at her imploringly.
“Not fair.” She grumbled good-naturedly, leaning in to press their foreheads together once again. “You know I can’t resist the puppy pirate eyes.”
“Nor rum.” Killian whispered triumphantly.
Emma stuck out her tongue to blow an immature raspberry before kissing him again.
-----
In the end, they’d manage to get the majority of the decorations up without much fuss. Too much rum, perhaps, but Killian was more than willing to suffer the headache the next morning if the memories of Emma giggling her way through Christmas songs as she hung baubles on their half-priced fake Christmas tree was the payoff.
Even more worth it was the look of pure delight on his daughter’s face as Emma had carried her downstairs while he’d been preparing their morning coffee. She’d squealed in that way that was only hers, scrambling to get down from Emma’s arms so she could toddle her way towards the tree, where it seemed the glitz of the decorations was much more fascinating than the mound of presents underneath.
“Some pirate, that one.” Killian had muttered good-naturedly while handing Emma her cup.
She took it, not hesitating to take a hearty sip as she settled in against his side. “She still went for the pretty shiny shit, babe.” She offered with a grin, her free hand rubbing up and down his back.
The rest of the morning had consisted of two slightly hungover adults and one ecstatic toddler ooh-ing and aah-ing over all the pretty decorations around their house, before tearing into her gifts with a fervor that was only natural to a little girl lovingly spoiled by her parents. Emma’s parents had shown up around noon with the little prince, and the two children had gone to town with all of the new toys added to the collection that day.
Now Killian found himself relaxed back into the couch, his daughter in his lap, drowsily fiddling with one of her new plush friends - a crocodile, curse David and his sense of humor. His living room was a sea of playthings and bits of wrapping that had been missed in the initial clean up, and even the long-lived lieutenant in him couldn’t find a damn to give over the mess of it all. His two lovely lasses had had a grand day, and he wasn’t about to make a fuss.
“You guys did a good job.”
Killian started slightly, looking up from where he’d been lost staring at the twinkling lights on the tree, to find his father-in-law glancing down at him as he held out the cup of coffee he’d brought from the kitchen. Adjusting slightly, doing his best not to dislodge his girl, Killian took the steaming mug with an appreciative smile.
“Thanks, mate.” He said in response to the drink and David’s previous compliment.
David took a quick pull from his own cup before depositing in on the table and throwing himself back into the armchair next to Killian’s side of the couch. “Though don’t think I didn’t notice the empty bottle of rum in the garbage earlier.” He gave Killian a mock look of disapproval. “You’ve taught my daughter bad habits, pirate.”
“Can’t fault my wife for having excellent taste, your majesty.” Killian snarked back with an eyebrow raise. David snorted and rolled his eyes before closing them and relaxing deeper into the plush cushioning at his back. “Where’d Neal get to?”
Waving an errant hand in the general direction of the kitchen, David didn’t even bother to open his eyes as he answered. “Helping Snow and Emma put away dinner…” He peeked one eye open and turned his head to glance at Killian. “You know how excited he gets about clean-up.” He settled back again and closed his eyes once more. “Gets that from Snow.”
“Yes, and I know where Emma gets her cleaning habits from…”
“Hey, now.” Emma’s voice broke in before David had a chance to respond. Killian’s eyes followed her as she made her way over to him. “Not all of us went to the cleaning stick up the ass class at Naval Academy.”
“Emma, language!” Snow called from the kitchen, her voice carrying over the running water from the sink. “There’s kids around!”
Standing at the back of the couch, Emma gave Killian a saucy wink. “Oh, if she only knew.” She mumbled before leaning down and giving him a kiss from where he was looking upwards at her. Killian chuckled in the affirmative as their lips pressed together. “You didn’t hear that, dad.” She said as she pulled away, glancing to her right at her father.
David held up his hands in acquiescence. “I’m not the secret teller in this family.” He flinched as Snow’s ‘I heard that!’ carried in from the kitchen. “Oh, she doesn’t hear you guys, but me she hears…”
“True love has its downsides, Dave.” Killian teased before looking up at Emma once more. “Did you need me to help, love?”
She shook her head, placing her hand on his shoulder. “No. I was gonna head upstairs to change…” Emma looked down to her shirt, plucking at the fabric that Killian finally noticed was rather wet. “Neal is very liberal with his water usage.” She smiled at what would otherwise be an annoyance for anyone else. “Just checking to see if you wanted me to take little pirate upstairs to lay down?”
Killian looked down to their daughter still settled against his chest. It was obvious all the excitement from the day had caught up with her, her quietness an indicator more than anything else. As much as he hated to call it an end to her day, he figured it was probably best Emma did take her for a nap.
“Hope, my darling…” He murmured softly, causing sleepy blue eyes to peek up at him. “You want mama to take you to sleep?” The almost two-year-old shook her head, burying her face against his chest. “Come, little love.” He gently rubbed his hand up and down her side. “You should have a nap.”
She mumbled something into the fabric of his shirt and Killian glanced to Emma, who had leaned her arms down on the back of the couch to watch the exchange, to see if she’d understood. Emma merely shrugged, an adoring looking on her face as she watched on.
“What was that, love?”
Hope pulled back and gave him a tired, teary-eyed pout. “No -parkle uhstairs, papa.”
A heartwarming smile came to him and he snuck a look to Emma to see the same, her eyes shining with unabashed love for this child they’d brought into the world.
“You wanna sleep by the Christmas tree, babygirl?” Emma asked and Hope nodded, her eyes wide and pleading as she crushed the plush croc tightly to her cheek. Emma reached out and ran her fingers through the mess of blonde curls atop their daughter’s head. “Alrighty then.”
“Christmas camp out it is!” David cheered, still lounging in his chair. Hope looked at him and giggled, while Killian rolled his eyes towards his wife, who was still smiling madly.
-----
He once again found himself leaning against the wall by the stairs, surveying the scene in his living room. Where the night before had been piles of decorations, and just that morning a disaster zone of toys and paper, it was now a fortress of pillows and blankets and sleeping bags. Hope and Neal were conked out closest to the tree, their little faces pressed closed together. Not far from them, David and Snow had also succumbed to their exhaustion, his mother-in-law pressed up against his father-in-law’s side in the way Killian had first seen them sleep in Neverland.
It was one of the coziest pictures of domesticity he’d ever seen. His heart ached with the knowledge that at one point, it was something he’d never even imagined he’d be worthy of himself. A bloodthirsty, cold-hearted pirate, with all the history he’d blemished with darkness...
“No self-loathing tonight,” Emma whispered as she lifted his arm up so she could tuck herself in against his side. “I won’t allow it.”
Despite the gentle reproach in her tone, Killian found nothing but love in her gaze when he glanced down at her. He nodded, whispering an ‘okay’ in response before kissing her softly, breaking away a moment later to rub their noses together. She giggled and then settled her head against his shoulder. They both took a moment to appreciate the scene before them once more.
“I must say…” Killian finally whispered, squeezing her arm lightly. “Not too bad for fucking it up, eh, Swan?”
She slapped his chest gently. “You’re still not funny.”
Killian shifted his shoulders and rested his cheek atop her head. “I’m a riot, darling, and you know it.”
“Yeah...” She sighed. Her hand slid down and across his chest until it came upon his hook resting near his hip. She tugged slightly until it settled comfortably in her grip. “You’re a little funny.”
Killian hummed triumphantly, rocking her gently from side to side while leaning his head back to place a kiss into her hair.
