As it turns out, going on a date with someone you met on Tinder isn't a great idea. Emma Swan can confirm this because at the moment, she's stuck in some crappy bar listening to some creep's story about how he seduced his ex-girlfriend with a live monkey.
"So then the monkey climbed climbed all over her and she's there laughing," the creep who calls himself 'Walsh,' explains with a slight slur. Emma internally rolls her eyes. They had barely been at the bar for 25 minutes and Emma's date was already drunk.
"Emma, are you listening to me?" Walsh drones drunkenly, while sloshing a foul smelling beer down his shirtfront. Emma quickly refocuses her gaze back to Walsh.
"Right, yeah. Go on," Emma says boredly while trying to suppress a yawn. Walsh narrows his eyes and continues.
"So after Zelena pried the monkey off of her, I asked her on a date. Boy, was she surprised! I mean, the look on her face was priceless. She was all like, oh my goddd," Walsh says while making a comical face. He redirects the conversation back to Emma. "Say, how would you feel about adopting a pet monkey. Emma cringes.
"Uh. I don't really feel comfortable with allowing a monkey to live in my home."
Walsh's expression of horror makes Emma almost burst out laughing.
"It's not that monkeys are bad or anything," Emma says, trying to remedy the situation. "It's not like I have anything against the animal." At the word 'animal,' Walsh's eyes nearly bug out of his head and Emma has to take a sip of her martini to prevent herself from losing it.
"What. The. Hell." Walsh growls, voice getting louder with each word. "How dare you insult monkeys. You know, Emma, it's people like you who allowed the dinosaurs to go extinct." Walsh continues to ramble on in his intoxicated state and at this point, he's got the attention of nearly everyone in the bar. Emma's face starts to burn with heat and she starts trying to avoid her date's gaze by chugging the rest of her martini when she hears these words:
"Why can't anybody accept that MONKEYS ARE HUMANS TOO?!"
At these words, Emma begins to shriek with laughter, sending a gust of alcohol to erupt from her mouth and spray all over Walsh's face. An alcohol-covered Walsh begins to seethe, and a flash of anger clouds his eyes. Emma ceases her laughter upon seeing his expression.
"You little bitch." Walsh says dangerously, causing a chill to run through Emma's veins. An alarm bell rings through Emma's mind and before she has a chance to register anything, she feels a painful strike across her cheek. Raising a hand to cradle her throbbing face, Emma turns to look at the face Walsh, who is preparing to administer another smack. Emma squeezes her eyes shut and braces herself for the the impending pain, only to hear a blunt sound of impact, and the thud of a body hitting the floor. She slowly opens her eyes and is met with the sight of a handsome, dark-haired man standing over the unconscious body of Walsh. Emma slowly begins to stand up. The dark-haired man notices this and begins to speak with an accented voice,
"Come on, love. We'd best be getting you away from this bloody wanker." The man makes his way to the door and Emma, feeling overwhelmed from all the attention she's receiving from the concerned people of the bar, follows him out.
They continue walking, with the mysterious man only stopping to check if Emma's still following him. Finally, Emma can't take the silence anymore.
"Why did you help me?"
The man pauses for a few seconds and raises his eyebrows ever so slightly.
"Love, the man was beating you." he says matter-of-factly.
Emma rolls her eyes, not satisfied with the answer.
"I was there, I know that. I wanna know why, you of all people decide to help me."
The man raises an eyebrow.
"Are you telling me that you didn't want any help? That you wanted to be hit by that lunatic?"
"Of course not," Emma says quickly. "But I had the situation under control."
The man scoffs. "I'm sure you did, love."
Emma narrows her eyes. "What are you insinuating? That I'm some damsel in distress? Because I'm not. I am more than capable of taking care of myself."
The man takes a breath. "I'm sure you are. It's just that a while ago, I had a friend who died from domestic violence. So when I saw you, I felt obligated to help."
Emma softened. "I'm so sorry for your loss."
The man smiled and extended his hand. "My name is Killian Jones." Emma took his hand. "Emma Swan."
Killian grinned. "Now why don't I take you somewhere much better than that craphole of a bar?"
"I would like nothing more, Killian Jones."