A/N: Should be doing homework. Is writing fanfiction. Summary of my life, really. Enjoy!

Emma isn't quite sure how Killian managed to charm every woman over the age of 65 in Storybrooke, but somehow the charismatic bastard did it.

It gets to the point where they can't even take a walk together without getting interrupted by somebody's grandmother walking up, giggly as a schoolgirl, and presenting her pirate with some kind of treat. And Killian, always the charmer, of course accepts with his usual aplomb, waxing poetic about the quality of the woman's baking and playfully flirting until the twittering woman hand waves him away and departs.

Emma always rolls her eyes and Killian always responds with that cocky grin of his that says more than words ever could. (Smart decision on his part, really, as the one time he actually said, "Jealous, Swan?" she mashed the cake onto his smug face).

It's not that she minds, necessarily. She understand it's not really their fault. It's hard not to fall at least a little in love with Killian Jones (or a little in lust-Emma is only human, after all), but she's trying to enjoy her quiet moments, damn it, and a procession of Golden Girls all plying her pirate with sweets really cuts into her Killian Time.

Then the day comes when she gets a treat of her own and discovers that she doesn't at all mind Killian's devotees: his gobsmacked expression when one actually reaches up and pinches his cheek one day really makes the interruption worth it, she quickly decides.

After this, Emma finds their interruptions delightful, as it seems that the more they give Killian treats, the more likely the ladies are to grandmother him, fixing his hair and adjusting his collar, all while Killian fidgets uncomfortably and shoots Emma looks asking for rescue. (She raises a pointed eyebrow and smirks while not making a single move to aid him; he glares at her in response with a look just shy of full-blown pouting). Watching the great Captain Hook, scourge of the seven seas, fidget while being fussed over by a grey-haired woman who affectionately chides him for his tousled hair is just too good to not sit back and enjoy.

The piece de resistance, however, comes during the onset of winter.

Killian, Emma hypothesized early on, must have a great fear of what might happen if he actually uses the buttons on the top half of any of his shirts, seeing as how his (muscled) chest is always so prominently on display.

The grandmothers of Storybrooke (or the Killian Jones Fanclub as Emma and Henry have begun referring to them, much to Killian's consternation) apparently extend their interest about Killian to concern over his warmth during winter, and decide to take action.

Thus the giant pile of no less than twenty handknit sweaters (all in bright, eyecatching colors and patterns) Killian finds himself buried under one day at Granny's during a lunch date with Emma. Emma, who had been to the restroom and come back to find her pirate surrounded by his ardent admirers, hangs back and watches with no small amount of glee as Killian is fussed over and has sweaters held up to him, with the grandmothers all making comments to each other about which one brings out his eyes and which one fits best and on and on and on. Killian, for his part, squirms in his seat until he catches sight of Emma and silently begs her to come to his rescue. Emma, meanwhile, is almost doubled over while clutching her stomach, desperately trying not to burst out laughing and only barely containing it as her eyes well up with tears from the effort.

Killian purses his lips in thought before a devilish grin blooms on his handsome face.

"Ladies," his voice cuts through the chatter as they all turn to him expectantly, ever the doting fans. "Really, your workmanship knows no bounds. These garments are almost as lovely as the enchanting creatures that crafted them."

This sets off a chain of pleased giggling and hand fluttering and "Oh dears" before Killian speaks again, establishing eye contact with Emma as he continues, her expression morphing to one of confusion and suspicion.

"Your craftsmanship is truly unmatched by anything I've yet seen in my day, and I thank you greatly for these wonderful gifts. But," he continues after a pause for effect, "I do so worry about my lady love." (cue the "aw"s from his attentive crowd, all eating it up) "After the debacle with the ice wall the town was surrounded in, the princess is still is so susceptive to the cold, and my concern for her well being only grows as we near the frigid, biting winds of winter. I'm sure she would greatly benefit from your exemplary handiwork, if you could find the time to share the fruits of your labor with her."

He only barely manages to conceal his delight with how rapidly the amusement drops from Emma's face.

When fifteen pairs of gleaming, matronly eyes turn her way, already sizing and measuring and planning, Emma gulps, very suddenly finding herself once again not a fan of her pirate's senescent admirers.

(One month later it's Killian's turn to laugh when she finds herself bombarded with her own mountain of stitched wool).

(Neither is laughing two weeks after that, however, when Snow browbeats them into wearing a matching pair to a Christmas party to show their appreciation).

(When Henry laughs, Killian and Emma exchange a look, formulating a plan together. Two weeks later Henry finds himself with his own load of woolen garments).

(But for all of their questionable patterning the sweaters are warm, and so all three end up wearing one from their large collection on Christmas Day together, when they are bundled up together on the couch watching Christmas movies. Snuggled up with her pirate on one side and her kid on the other, Emma finds she quite likes this, cheesy as it is, wearing coordinating sweaters in her home with two of the people she loves most in the world, and decides that she quite likes the Killian Jones fanclub, after all).