[A/N]: Happy late Thanksgiving~

Thankful

Emma sat awkwardly at the large dinner table that occupied six people. Everyone around her was chatting casually while waiting for the turkey to finish cooking. Different plates and bowls were littered across the table full of mashed potatoes, salad, cranberry sauce, and some things she had never even eaten before. It was a nostalgic scene; she hadn't had any of this since she was young— No. She was not going to get all mopey and sentimental here. She took a deep breath and focused back on the conversation of music.

It had all started that morning when Killian rudely woke her up on her day off. They had a short, brief conversation (and by conversation, she meant that he did all the talking and hung up without actually listening to what she had to say) on the phone and now she was in the home of Mary Margret Nolan, a kind woman who just so happened to live with her husband a couple floors below her, celebrating Thanksgiving.

A small, barely audible sigh escaped her lips as she took another sip of her wine. Red, not white. White was too dry for her. Setting her glass back down, she felt the heat of someone's gaze upon her. Glancing up, she met the eyes of Killian, who was staring at her with a light smile. A smile so sincere, Emma couldn't help but to smile back.

Their connection was suddenly severed when Ruby, another friendly neighbor, spoke to her. "So,Emma," the red-streaked hair woman started, gaining her attention. "How long have you and Killian been dating?"

The blonde's eyes widened and she nearly chocked on some wine she was drinking. While coughing, she felt a hand pat her on the back supportively. She turned and saw David, Mary Margret's husband, giving her a warm smile. Emma returned the smile with a nod of thanks before answering Ruby. "Um, actually, no. Jones and I aren't dating."

"Yet," Killian chimed in, winking at the woman, whose grin only grew wider. Emma rolled her eyes and shot him a look that said, really?

A loud beep came from the kitchen and David stood, giving his wife a peck on the cheek before going to retrieve the main course. God, it smelled good.

"Turkey time," Victor, Ruby's boyfriend and Killian's band mate, sang. Then he turned to Killian, "About time you got back up on your feet, Jones. She's a keeper," He gestured to her before he took a swig of his beer while placing an arm around Ruby's shoulders.

"Victor," Mary Margret scolded lightly.

"Wha?" He tried to take on a look of false innocence while taking another large gulp of his fourth Bud Light.

David came in carrying a big pan and in it sat the turkey. The smell wafted around in the air, making her mouth water a bit. Everyone sat patiently as the blonde man started to carve the meat, placing a good amount of everyone's plate before serving himself. Bowls and plates were passed around the table and Emma made sure to get a little bit of everything. Sure, she looked like a pig, but there was no way she was going to ignore all the delicious looking food. Once the dishes were filled, they all said grace and Mary Margret announced, "It may be old-fashioned, but we should all say something we're thankful for."

Emma felt something sink inside of her. It wasn't fear, no, what was it? Disappointment? The fact that she had no idea what to say was what really hit her. She tried to think. What was she supposed to say? She was grateful for surviving? For living? She was only living for herself, for her own lonely existence. Was that really something she should be thankful for?

The blonde, in her haze, hadn't noticed that everyone had already had their say in the conversation and now Killian was speaking. "I'm thankful for what I have and the new experiences I have had recently," at that moment, Emma could have sworn that he was staring at her. His eyes met hers until the meaningful words were then brushed away as he ended, "And of course, I'm thankful for rum."

"Here, here," Victor slurred and raised his beer with a smirk.

"What about you, Ems?" Ruby asked, already using a nickname for her.

"Um…" She started. Emma looked around at the five faces around her, giving her their full attention. Yet, she couldn't say a word.

Luckily, she didn't have to.

Victor shot up from his seat and ran towards the bathroom. A few seconds later, the sound of the man vomiting reached their ears and Ruby winced visibly, sending an apologetic smile to everyone before rising and going after her boyfriend. Mary Margret also followed, taking a glass of water and a towel from the kitchen with her.

"The git could never hold his liquor very well…" Jones shook his head slightly and the sound of retching filled the apartment again. Emma, Killian, and David all exchanged glances before pushing their plates away from them, for any appetite any of them had was gone.

After an hour or so had passed, Victor elected not to eat and decided to rest up on the sofa while everyone else ate what they could, which didn't end up being very much after that night's events.

"Thanks for the meal, Mary Margret. You too, David," Emma was saying her good-byes near the door, getting ready to leave. "I really enjoyed tonight."

"It's no problem, Emma, you're always welcomed here," David said, giving her a small hug, which surprised her, to say the least, causing her to return the embrace a bit awkwardly.

Mary Margret did the same, but she was a bit more prepared then. "We should get together more often! Don't be a stranger, okay?"

"I'll do my best," Emma replied with a tiny grin. Her eyes then flickered to Killian, who was now walking her way.

He stood beside her when he then said, "I think I'm going to head out, too."

"What? C'mon you barely drank!" Victor mumbled, sitting up abruptly from the couch, causing him to moan and Ruby to sigh, exasperatedly, but still amused by her boyfriend's antics.

"A good thing, too," Killian chuckled, "considering what happened to you."

Mary Margret turned back to them with a smile, "You two come by again soon, and no excuses. It's not like you have to go very far."

"Sure thing. Thanks again," Emma waved to them while exiting the apartment with Jones by her side, hands in his pockets. When the door was shut, she turned to him. "You didn't have to leave with me, you know. I'm pretty sure I can walk up a few flight of stairs by myself."

He simply shrugged, "If I stayed there Victor would probably insist I have many shots of alcohol and I don't fancy hugging the toilet tomorrow morning. Besides, what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't walk you home? I was the one who escorted you here, after all."

"Escorted?" She scoffed. "You mean forced?"

He smirked and cheekily pointed out, "You still came, love." All she did was glance at him before the two of them began to climb the steps to their apartments quietly. They both walked in silence and Emma could feel his gaze flicker towards her occasionally, but she didn't meet it.

It wasn't that Emma didn't like Killian (because she did, but she would never admit that, especially not to him). The truth was, she enjoyed spending time with him. It was just that she wasn't used to someone like him in her life. It was all new to her, being pulled around, trying new things. She wasn't familiar with hanging out or having friendly conversations. Emma Swan never really had a friend.

Or at least one who stayed by her side.

In fact, she didn't even remember that it was Thanksgiving. To her, it was just another Thursday. She had not gone to work for four days now, so she hadn't been able to hear about it from anyone else. Which is why when Killian called her that day, telling her to go with him to have Thanksgiving dinner, even if she wanted to reply, she would not have been able to. It was so foreign to her, but he had reintroduced it to her; the bright side of having friends and company.

He sighed as they both stopped in front of Emma's door. "Here we are. I'm glad I was able to escort the princess home safely," he joked, bending down into a slight mock bow.

She snorted, "Yeah, you're a real hero; thanks a lot, Prince Charming." Killian was about to turn away when she called out, "Really. Thanks for taking me with you, Jones."

"So, are you going to be more enthusiastic the next time I take you somewhere?" He inquired.

"Not likely," she chuckled.

"I didn't think so," he smirked. "You know… Victor interrupted an important moment. You never got to answer… What are you thankful for, Swan?"

Emma felt a small, sincere smile form on her lips. She met his eyes and the two of them stared at each other. There was no noise, no sound besides the loud, steady beat of her heart. Then, they both looked away. Killian headed up the stairs and Emma entered her apartment, wondering if he understood her unspoken answer.

You.