Emma Swan was tired.
More than that, she was tired and annoyed, and all she wanted to do was go home.
She'd been stood up on a blind date, and she was just as annoyed at Ruby for organising the damn thing as she was at the guy for not showing up, and also there was the fact that her perp had gotten away from her today and she'd spent a reasonable amount of time getting ready for this stupid date when she could have just been collapsing straight onto her couch.
At least they'd organised to meet at a bar and not a restaurant, she thought proactively, tossing back the last of her drink and grabbing her purse. At least she'd eaten beforehand, for one, and had access to a drink before she called it quits and headed home.
As she waited for the bartender to be free to settle her tab - for only one drink, it was so ridiculous but at least Jeff was a friend of hers - she felt a presence at her shoulder, and she shifted slightly to make room for the guy at the bar. It was only when she heard him clear his throat that she looked up at him, and was surprised that there was a smiling (smirking) face looking upon her rather than an annoyed one.
Maybe she'd been projecting her own irritation, she reasoned, trying to remember his tone and deciding that he probably had sounded more polite than annoyed. What she couldn't decide was whether that was a bad thing or not, because his attention was clearly all on her and not on the bar staff at all.
She wasn't unused to attention in bars, and wasn't usually averse to it, but tonight she just was not in the mood, especially after the day that she'd had, and especially with this guy that, by the look of him, knew exactly how attractive he was and how far it would get him.
Pretty damned far. Normally. But not tonight. Tonight she just needed sleep.
All of this went through her mind before he had the chance to open his rather attractive looking mouth and speak to her. 'Hi, I'm Killian.'
She had to resist the urge to roll her eyes at the way his tongue rolled around his words. Accent, great. If it were any other night, and she were in and other mood, she'd probably happily stay and drink and listen to him talk (and wonder how much of that obvious confidence was warranted) but she knew that the last thing she'd be was good company. 'Hi Killian, I'm Leaving,' she said, leaning forward on her elbows to try and get Jeff's attention.
A moment of silence, and then she saw Mr Accent out of the corner of her eye, leaning forward himself as he tried to keep her attention - and hey, at least he hadn't touched her to do it. 'I can't buy you a drink?'
He still sounded so damned sure of himself, and she turned back to him, ready to let him down firmly despite his determination, but she hesitated at the look in his eyes. There was something there, a mix of mischief and deliberation that gave her pause, but she didn't read him as "trouble". 'Sorry,' she said slowly, watching as his face fell and then firmed with determination in the span of moments.
And then he looked over his shoulder, the tips of his ears turning red before her eyes, and she was immediately suspicious.
When he looked back to her, his eyes were overflowing with charm, his grin nothing short of panty-dropping, and when he spoke hid voice was lower, his accent thicker. 'Could I get your number then, perhaps?' he asked, apparently unperturbed by her narrowed eyes.
'What the hell are you doing?'
The speed with which his face went blank was fascinating, to say the least, but then he still tried at it, raising his eyebrows hopefully and smiling at her, but she could see the panic in his eyes. 'Why, I'm asking a beautiful woman for her number, of cou-'
'Cut the crap. Unless you're looking for a fourway, because your friends over there seem mighty interested in what you're doing right now.'
His eyes widened comically and then he smirked, his tongue flicking out to wet his lip in an obscene gesture. 'Well that wasn't the plan, milady, but if you're interested - wait!'
She'd been halfway off of her stool, her tab be damned, when she heard the desperate tone in his voice as he bid her to stop and god damn her, her curiosity was enough that she did. 'You've got ten seconds,' she said flatly.
The cockiness was gone, leaving only an uncomfortably chastised demeanour that didn't suit him at all. 'I was trying to convince my mates that I'm a sex god and I really need your number,' he said all in a big rush, his cheeks tinging with pink.
Things like this would only happen to her, wouldn't they?
She pressed her lips together, but only to stop herself from grinning. She shouldn't find this funny, she knew that, but something about the way his scoundrel act had dropped so quickly was a little bit adorable. 'How drunk are you?' she asked conversationally.
He seemed to ponder that for a moment. 'Not drunk enough that I don't know that this was a bad idea,' he said cheerfully. 'But drunk enough that I didn't care.' He paused, dipping his head toward her slightly. 'So, my dear, can I have your number?'
She smiled sweetly up at him. 'Not a chance.'
His grin slipped a little, but he was determined, she'd give him that. He stepped a little closer again, and she was hit with the scent of his cologne, something spicy and enticing. 'What I meant was, to hell with the game. I'd actually like your number. Or I can give you mine, if you'd prefer,' he said quickly.
Huffing an exaggerated sigh, she held out her hand for his phone. 'Fine,' she said, holding back a smile at the eagerness with which he dug his phone out of his pocket.
A few seconds later she handed it back to him, biting her lip to hide her enjoyment when he looked at the screen. 'Anna,' he said slowly, and she wondered what it'd be like to hear his voice say her own name with such reverence. She must have been doing a bad job at not grinning, because his face fell when he looked up at her again. 'Your name isn't Anna, is it?'
She gave into it, grinning up at him proudly. 'Nope.'
'And this isn't your number, is it?'
The disappointment on his face was endearing. Tilting her head, she patted him consolingly on the arm. 'Go and convince your friends you're a sex god,' she said, then paused. Tightening her grip on his arm through his leather jacket, she leaned into him, not stopping until her lips brushed against his ear. 'And you're right, that isn't my number. Not quite. If you guess which number is the wrong one before I get bored, then I'll take you up on that drink.'
Backing up, she turned and left before he could say anything, letting herself have only one quick glance at the stunned look on his face. It wasn't until she was at the door of the pub that she heard his voice right behind her. 'It's the four, isn't it? The four?'
She didn't stop, but turned her head to grin at him as she opened the door. 'Bye, Killian,' she said with a waggle of her fingers, and then the door was closing between them.
Her apartment was only a five minute walk from the pub, and she was just sliding her key into the door when she felt her phone buzzing against her thigh. Pulling it from her pocket, she stared at the unfamiliar numbers with a feeling that wasn't hope, just curiosity, that's all.
'Hello, this is Anna,' she said with exaggerated enthusiasm, walking into her apartment and locking the door behind her.
The sigh of relief on the other end made her smile. 'It wasn't the four,' Killian said, as though stating the obvious.
'Nope, it wasn't,' she agreed, walking straight to the fridge to grab a beer. 'How many people did you call before me?'
'Twelve,' he said with way too much cheer in his voice, and some lingering smugness, too. 'Only four of them shouted at me for calling a wrong number so late.'
'Did you convince your friends, at least?'
'My friends aren't the ones who I'm concerned about convincing anymore, love,' he said, and she'd have rolled her eyes if she hadn't also been swallowing down the lump in her throat at the promise in his tone. She didn't speak again until she was sure she had herself under control.
'So, about this drink...'