"Killian, I need your help in here," Emma called from the kitchen. Her hands were covered in flour and the timer for the stove was about to go off any second.
"On the way," Killian called back. He turned to Henry who was sitting next to him on the couch. "I'll be right back, lad." He ruffled Henry's hair as he got up.
"Hurry back, Captain," Henry said. "They said the Kermit balloon is coming up soon!"
Killian saluted his soon-to-be stepson and walked into the kitchen to find Emma rolling out dough for a pie. She had flour in the most random places - her chin, her shoulder, her neck; it was everywhere.
"How can I be of service, love?" Killian asked.
"I need you to take the turkey out and baste it," Emma said, not even looking up from the task in front of her.
Killian had no idea what she was talking about. Every so often, Emma would forget that there were still things in this world that he was not familiar with. He'd gotten better having fully lived in this world for nearly a year, but he didn't know everything. This whole tradition of "thanksgiving" was one of them. Between the insane amount of food preparation and the need to watch gigantic balloons float through the streets of New York City, it seemed like the most odd way to celebrate a day about giving thanks. But it was something both Emma and Henry looked forward to greatly so he went with the flow of things.
He cleared his throat. "What do you mean?" Killian asked.
Emma looked up from her half-made pie. "Oh, sorry," she sighed. "Of course you wouldn't know what I'm talking about." She rubbed her hands together creating a smoky cloud of flour.
"Is there something else I can help with? I feel like you're doing all the work while Henry and I are enjoying ourselves."
"It's ok," Emma replied as she rinsed the flour off her hands in the sink. "I love the cooking part of Thanksgiving. I just didn't plan out the timing as well as I thought I did."
Killian walked over to her side and gave her a quick peck on her flour-covered cheek. "Why don't you show me how to do this basting of the turkey so you don't have to worry about that?" he offered.
"That would be great, Killian. Thank you!" She kissed him lightly as she dried her hands. "It's really simple. You should easily be able to do it with one hand."
Emma stepped over to the stove and picked up an oven mitt. Killian followed and stood on the other side of the appliance to observe.
"Now, all you need to do is open the oven and pull the turkey out," she instructed. "Uncover it and take this," she held up the rubber bulb baster, "and suck the juices up from the bottom of the pan. Then just squirt it out on top of the turkey."
Killian observed as Emma repeated the process a few times.
"How much of the juice do you need?" he asked.
Emma gave a noncommittal shrug. "Not a ton, but just enough to cover the turkey thoroughly. It helps to keep the meat nice and moist as it cooks."
"And how often does this basting process need to be done?"
"About every 30 to 45 minutes should be good." Emma set the baster back down on the counter and recovered the turkey before pushing it back in the oven. "You are now be official turkey baster," she said clapping him on the shoulder.
Killian chuckled. "I'm honored, m'lady," he said, bowing slightly. He saw Emma smirk at the dramatic gesture. "Anything else I can do to help, love?"
Emma smiled and kissed him again. "Nope, I'm good, thanks!"
"My pleasure. I'm just glad I can be useful." Killian watched as Emma returned to her pie at the other counter. "When is everyone else coming?"
She glanced up at the clock. "My parents are coming in about an hour and a half. Regina, Robin, and Roland should be here close to two, and Neal and Belle should be dragging Gold in here not long after that. I told them all that dinner is at three."
Killian raised his eyebrow. "Do you really think it's a good idea to have all of us together at one time? I know your father isn't very excited."
"Like I told him, we are all family so we need to learn how to be a family, for Henry's sake at the very least." She glanced up at her pirate. "And that includes you, Killian."
He curled his lip slightly knowing she was referring to the still-bitter relationship between him and the crocodile. "I'll try my best, love."
Emma smirked. "That's all I ask. Now get back in there," she nodded to the living room, "or you're going to miss the parade."
Killian did as he was told but paused in the doorway and turned back to face Emma. "I love you."
"I love you too," she smiled. "Let me know when Santa is about to make his appearance. That's my favorite part."
Emma watched him walk away into the other room before sighing and rolling her eyes. There was no doubt in her mind that Killian's first Thanksgiving was going to be the sassiest holiday she would ever experience.