Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! I am so sorry for the lateness, you deserve better. <3 I am your CSSS! How were your holidays, how did you spend your new year? Sorry I have been so busy but I finally finished your drawing, I tagged you in it, I posted it on my art blog but that's me. I hope you like it! ttys
Ahhh sweetie❤ Don’t worry, seeing what you made for me I can believe it took you a lot of time! Thank you so much, you’re extremely talented!
Christmas Eve and Day were fine, but New Year’s Eve was even better because I got to spend time with my best friends.
Again, thank you for that drawing, it’s stunning! ❤
izzymar replied to your post “guys! do you know any good space documentaries or know any other good...”
p.s any books by Stephen Hawking and Carl Sagan. I love Carl Sagan as you can see.
izzymar replied to your post “guys! do you know any good space documentaries or know any other good...”
since everyone said cosmos(the original series is great as well as the one w/ NDT) already I recommend the movie Contact, as well as the book and Gravity. Contact is one of my favorite movies.
i had a dream that i was cooking with @izzymar. just a floating avatar head. it was kind of like adele's "hello" video. we were singing hamilton and rewatchimg sense8. ✌🏿️
Merry Christmas to my CSSS - @izzymar! I hope that my CSSS messages went through - I have this feeling that Tumblr was eating my messages I sent to you! ::shakes a fist at Tumblr:: Anyway, this is where my muse took me, I hope you like it. Also, this is just part one of two... Two will be finished up today! (Also, this is 100% unbeta’ed... please forgive my mistakes!!)
Title: Santa Baby
Rating: Teen
Emma Swan didn’t believe in Christmas miracles
Which just added to the long list of other things she didn’t believe in… like happy endings, the tooth fairy, true love or any of that nonsense they tell little kids. Growing up in the foster care system had the tendency to do that to people.
Ultimately, what Emma did believe in were simple, cold, hard facts of life. People come and go, things are more likely to end rather than last forever and true friends were rare and hard to come by.
Luckily, she did have a pair of true friends, David and Mary-Margaret Nolan. They were the reason that her and her son, Henry ended up in the small town of Storybrooke, Maine shortly after her split from her husband. David called, offered Emma a job as his associate deputy, a position Emma gladly accepted to get away from the painful memories associated with Boston.
That was two years ago.
Now, Henry was a happily settled nine year old boy, she had a good job in a small town and she lived next door from her two best friends. As far as Emma was concerned, that was a close to a happy ending as she could possibly hope for.
~~~~~~~
Every Christmas, Storybrooke’s main restaurant, Granny’s, hosted the “Twelve Days of Christmas” celebration. Everyone in town came out to join the merriment. There were many cups of eggnog, kisses under the mistletoe, candy canes and fun had by all.
Well, mostly all of Storybrooke.
“I’d rather go home, but if you really want to stay little longer Henry...” Emma told the two pouting faces sitting in across from her in their usual booth at Granny’s. The restaurant was in full on holiday mode, Christmas music pumping from the speakers and a fresh cut Christmas tree on display in the window.
“Mom! We have to stay for Santa!” Henry looked at her, a moment of panic in his eyes at the thought of missing out on the jolliest of fat men with big white beards.
“Emma!” Mary-Margaret also looked scandalized, while David held back a chuckle and sipped his eggnog. “The whole class has been waiting for weeks to talk to Santa.” Mary-Margaret was Henry’s third grade teacher as well, beloved by students and parents alike.
Emma looked from Henry’s face to Mary-Margaret’s and sighed as she mentally resigned herself to a few more hours at Granny’s before she could go home, slip into her pajamas and try to sleep for a week. “Sorry guys, it was a long day at the station. I had to wrestle Leroy away from Tom Clark again. Why those guys bicker all day, I’ll never know.” She took a long drink from her hot chocolate.
“At least that’s about the high point of crime here in Storybrooke,” David pointed out.
Emma agreed that the tranquility of Storybrooke was a good thing, perfect for raising Henry. Who, like his mother, had a perchance for sniffing out possibly disastrous situations. She was about to point this fact out, when suddenly the main star of the evening came into the room.
Santa Claus had just come to town, but he was no regular Santa Claus.
Santa Claus didn’t walk into Granny’s. It was more of a swagger, hips swaying and moving, displaying an air of confidence despite wearing what must of been Granny’s grandfather’s ancient costume. The white wig and beard hid obscured most of his face, but the pair of bright blue eyes that looked out from under the Santa hat were the most electric blue Emma had ever seen.
Who the hell had Granny unearthed this year to play Santa? Had Marco, the town carpenter, fallen ill again? Emma mused, her eyes glued to Santa as he worked his way through the crowd to his seat of honor. She barely heard his lilting voice, throwing out velvety ho-ho-ho’s as he charmed the room
British. Interesting.
“MOM!
Henry’s shout shook Emma from her stare, startled at the fact he had been apparently calling her for awhile. Mary-Margaret and David shared a long, we’re-married-and-having-a-silent-conversation look before turning back at Emma.
“Sorry Henry, what’s up kid?” Emma shook her head, clearing her thoughts.
Henry held up an envelope, his brown eyes looking at her. “My list, c’mon mom! How will he know what to bring me next weekend?”
Emma took a deep breath, frustrated that swagging, blue-eyed Santa had distracted her. “Of course, let’s go and get in line.” She slid out of the booth, leaving her scarf and mittens with Mary-Margaret before making her way up to the line forming. Henry and Emma took their place at the end of the line.
At the front of the line, Granny’s granddaughter, Ruby was organizing the chaos, wearing a red and green elf costume, while collecting money and taking pictures with cameras and smartphones. She moved through the crowd to give Emma and Henry a brief hug. “Henry! Are you all ready for Santa?”
Henry held up his list, beaming with pride. “Yup! I went through all the toy catalogs sent to my mom AND found the YouTube videos that reviewed the best toys!”
Ruby bit back a smile as she glanced up to gauge Emma’s expression. “You’re such a bright kid, Henry. I’m sure that Santa will be excited to get you everything you want this year.” Emma’s eyes flared briefly at the everything you want comment, before she shook her head at her friend with a smile.
“Aunt Ruby…” Emma started to say before Ruby jumped in, cutting her off.
“You mean Head Elf in Charge, Ruby,” Ruby cheerfully amended, as she passed out a few candy canes to people leaving.
“... means that Santa will read your list and then determine what gifts would be best for everyone,” Emma finished.
“Oh, I know mom. Santa has to save presents for kids that don’t have nice things like me. I remember.” Henry bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet, peeking around the crowd of people to observe Santa at his station. “Santa seems to really enjoy being here tonight! Last year, Santa seemed really grumpy. He must of had to work late making all the toys.”
Emma smirked, because the previous year, Granny could only sweet-talk notorious town grump Leroy into donning the infamous Santa costume. It was something that Granny paid for in the end, because all evening, Santa Leroy could only complain about anything and everything under the sun. After he made all the babies cry and ran off her customers, Granny had a fit and threatened to shoot him with her crossbow.
Ruby nodded, a smile on her lips as she too remembered the ‘Crossbow Christmas’ as well. “Yes Henry, last year Santa was just too grumpy to spread any holiday cheer. We think Mrs. Claus must of burnt the cookies. This year, we made sure Santa was in a good mood first.”
Emma leaned forward to whisper in Ruby’s ear. “Who is Santa?”
Ruby grinned, “His name is Killian Jones. He actually just opened up a seafood wholesale market down by the docks. Granny has been buying his seafood for the restaurant.”
Emma’s eyes glanced back over to Santa, Killian Jones, laughing and holding a small child in his lap. For a brief moment, he looked over at her and their eyes met. Emma’s breath caught in her chest.
Who was this Killian Jones?
“Henry, you’re up!” Ruby ushered Henry up to Santa, Emma shuffling in behind her son.
“Henry, my fine lad!” Santa boomed cheerfully, standing up to greet Henry and giving his hand a hearty shake before returning to his oversized chair. “It’s good to see you. Have you been behaving this year?”
Henry nodded enthusiastically, eyes wide. “Yes Santa! I even do my reading logs for Mrs. Nolan’s class when everyone else in class fakes them!”
Santa’s eyebrows nearly lifted off his forehead with Henry’s comment as he had to cover up his laugh with a set of coughs made into a white velvet lined glove. Emma lightly smacked a hand against her head as she made a mental note to tell Mary-Margaret to look over those reading logs a little more closely.
“Well, that is admirable that you are taking a stand in your education. Now, tell Santa what you’d like for Christmas,” Santa asked Henry, blue eyes twinkling.
Henry cast a quick look over his shoulder at Emma before listing off a few items, his fingers wrapped around a small card he pulled from his jacket pocket. “And, here Santa,” Henry finished, handing the card over.
Santa took the card from Henry, popping it open, his eyes skimming over the text. His mood seemed to turn somber as he looked from the card to Henry. “Ah, you are a good lad,” he murmured.
“Will you help?” Henry asked as Emma took one step closer, curious. What was her son up to now?
“I will do my very best,” Santa said, laying one hand on Henry’s shoulder. “Some Christmas miracles might take time.” His eyes flicked back over to Emma, rising from his chair and extending his hand out to shake, “Is this your lovely mum?”
“That I am,” Emma responded, shaking his hand quickly. “I’m also the associate sheriff of Storybrooke. Emma Swan.” They stood at the Santa section together, observing the cafe.
Santa grinned as he handed Henry a candy cane, Henry waving as he headed back over to David and Mary-Margaret. “Good thing I’m not in the business of associating with the naughty people, then. Well, unless you ask nicely.” He added with a quick, roguish wink. “Killian Jones,” he whispered.
Emma shook her head at the innuendo, a small grin fighting past her tough facade. “What was on the card?”
A full smile blossomed on Killian’s face. “Ah! Why I’m sorry, that’s client-Santa privilege! I can assure you it is a perfectly reasonable and legal Christmas wish.”
“If I’m on the hook for a 10,000 piece Lego set that I can only order online, I’m going to hunt you down for the bill, Santa,” Emma replied.
Killian only shook his head. “It is something that you’re going to have to leave up to the magic of Christmas.”
Emma looked back up at him, her eyes finding his. “Too bad, there is no such thing as the magic of Christmas.”
Suddenly, surprisingly, his hand shot out to lay itself gently on Emma’s forearm, blue eyes pinning her in place. “My dear, I have to sadly prove you wrong.”
She could only shake her head, the sudden emotions of sorrow overwhelming Emma for a moment. “Thanks for all your help, Mr. Jones.” Emma pulled herself free of his light grip, hands suddenly crammed into her pockets.
“Killian,” he amended firmly as he nodded his head. “I’ll see you around, Emma.”
-----------
The very next day, Emma answered a dispatch call from David that sent her and her yellow bug out to the docks.
“What’s the situation?” She asked David, as she navigated through the streets of Storybrooke, choosing the quickest route to the docks.
“Apparently, someone is out there disturbing the peace,” David replied, before pausing as he read over his notes. “Some lunatic is singing Christmas Carols on a microphone, which doesn’t seem horrendous to me, but you never know what rubbed someone the wrong way to call and lodge a complaint.”
Emma shook her head. “Maybe this guy sounds like a thousand cheetahs screeching in pain. That would make someone call. It’s not a big deal, I’ll check it out. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
David laughed, thanking Emma as he hung up.
Pulling the bug up to the docks, Emma quickly discovered the source of the commotion.
A tall, dark haired man had commandeered a microphone and speaker set and was busy singing Christmas Carols while perched on top of a bench. A surprisingly large crowd of Storybrooke citizens had gathered around him, growing more and more rowdy as they enjoyed his soulful tunes.
Emma looked at the scene incredulously from the front seat of the bug, wondering if she had transported to an alternative universe when she slept. She shook her head, straightened her red leather jacket and scarf and stepped out of her car.
“I LOVE YOU!” Mary Muffet screamed as Emma wove through the group, causing her eyes to widen as she did a double take back at the woman for a moment before continuing forward. Some people, Emma thought as she shook her head.
Finally, Emma had pushed her way to the front of the crowd. “Sir, while I appreciate it’s clearly the joy of the season…”
The man jumped down from his bench, landing nimbly in front of her as he threaded his hand through his black hair. He looked up, bright blue eyes effectively pinning Emma in place. “Ah, finally, darling. I was wondering how many songs I’d have to serenade the town with before you arrived.” He grinned, a wide smile that had Emma instantly smiling back.
“Killian Jones,” Emma said, attempting to ignore how her pulse kicked into overdrive at the sight of the man outside of an ancient Santa suit. Dark hair, perfectly trimmed beard, stylish combination of dark blue and black clothing, and perhaps the most handsome smirk toying at his lips.
He swept forward in an exaggerated, old-timey bow. “At your service.”
Emma bit back her smile, still very aware of the crowd around them. “Well, Mr. Jones…”
“Killian, love.”
“Okay - Killian. There’s been a complaint about your…” Emma gestured to the crowd, “... impromptu concert, so I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to stop.”
“Perfect, I was getting tired of waiting for you to arrive,” Killian winked and jumped back up to the bench. “Ladies and Gentlemen! Thank you for enjoying my Christmas cheer, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to put the rest of the festivities on hold for right now! Have a Merry Christmas!”
The crowd clapped appreciatively and started to wander off, leaving Emma standing in front of Killian. Emma tucked her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, as she contemplated what to say. “I guess my job is done then,” she said quietly, a part of her saddened to leave.
Killian shook his head with another bright smile. “Nope. I’ve been singing for an hour hoping you’d end up getting sent my way.” He looked at his watch for a moment before continuing on. “Would you allow me the pleasure of taking you to lunch?”
Killian held out an arm, eyebrow raised, patiently waiting for Emma to make a decision.
“I’m not sure, Killian. I am still technically still at work…” Emma stalled, shocked that she wanted to say yes, but duty still called.
The smile on Killian’s face never faltered, “I have a brilliant idea then. Trust me?”
--------------
A half an hour later, Killian and Emma were back in Emma’s bug, take out from Granny’s in their laps. “I think accompanying you on your job would be quite the thrill from my everyday life of the crustacean sort.”
Emma snorted into her grilled cheese, “Always talk like that Jones?”
He winked, “Always.”
---------------
Two days later, Emma stopped by Granny’s to grab takeout during the middle of her shift. “Emma! Here!” Ruby ran down the street after Emma, a steaming to-go cup in her hands, moments after she walked out the door.
Emma raised her eyebrow and looked at Ruby. “I didn’t order this.”
Ruby grinned back, her red lips wide in a wolfish smile. “I know you didn’t. But Killian Jones did. Even knew that you liked the dash of cinnamon.”
Emma hid her smile as she sipped her drink. “Tell him I said thank you, Ruby.”
Ruby bounced excitedly on her feet. “You should!” She pointed to the number handwritten in styrofoam on the side of the cup. “He left his number for you.”
