Merry Christmas! YO-HO-HO!! ‘Tis I, your Secret Santa! Thanks for chatting with me the past couple of weeks. I hope you enjoy your gift. I was an absolute pleasure to write it for you!!
Based on the prompt: I just wanted to put
Christmas lights up but I ended up falling off the ladder and crashing into you
while you were delivering a package to my door but oh god you’re hot, AND your
expressed love for the snowed in trope. Enjoy!
Rated: M – for sexy times / ~7600 words / Also available on ao3 and ff.net
beta’d
by the amazing @ilovemesomekillianjones, who also came up with its brilliant title. Thank you!
Emma finished securing the ladder to the side of
her house and began the perilous ascent to the rooftop. These probably weren’t
ideal conditions for hanging outdoor Christmas lights, but this was her only
day off for the next several days, and with a snow storm set to blow in later
that afternoon it was her one chance to get lights up before Christmas actually
came.
And she was gonna get these lights up.
And get the rest of her house decorated.
Before her Christmas tree was delivered.
So she could spend a cozy evening decorating her
first ever Christmas tree, in her first ever house, with the first snowfall of
the season swirling outside the windows that were all her own.
All hers.
Emma Swan had never had much that she could
actually call her own, which made this Christmas in her first house all the
more special. She planned to go all out. Garlands, and wreaths, and fake
candles in the window sills, lights on the outside of the house, and even a
real live Christmas tree.
Yup. It was going to be the best Christmas ever.
If she didn’t kill herself getting the house
lights up first.
In typical Maine fashion they’d had several days
of wet, dreary yuck leading up to the first potential snowfall, so everything
had a coating of moisture that would surely turn icy as the temperature began
to drop throughout the day. Emma meticulously worked to hang the outdoor lights
with as much haste as she could, without sacrificing precision. She’d just
gotten to the last stretch along the front of the house when she heard the
telltale sound of tires on gravel, indicating that someone was pulling up to
her secluded home on the outskirts of town.
As deputy of the small, coastal town of
Storybrooke, Emma got her fill of the citizenry day in and day out, through her
profession; so when the opportunity came to buy a home several miles out of the
way of the hustle and bustle of town, she’d jumped at it. Sure it was a little
inconvenient, but the privacy was exactly what she’d wanted, and the forest
views that surrounded most of her property weren’t too shabby either.
The distance, and slightly sketchy bridge that
spanned the little brook just off the main road, did sometimes make her feel
bad for those who had to trek out to her neck of the woods. Those like the
person currently making their way up her drive with a full and lovely Christmas
tree loaded in the back of a truck that had Jones Tree Farm displayed along its
side.
The same person who, ever since he’d arrived in
town five months prior, turned Emma into a ridiculous swooning cliche of a
woman.
Killian Jones.
The little… er, younger brother of
resident park services manager, Liam Jones.
The hot, seductively sinful, but slightly nerdy,
and totally sweet, (and single) brother of Liam Jones.
It All Starts With a Dance 