I want to thank everyone for all of the kind words and feedback that you've left on this WIP! I haven't really had time to reply to everyone but every comment has brought a smile to my face! I wasn't sure what kind of replies I was going to get introducing Walsh in the last chapter and I promise, it'll all be explained soon. But first, we have not-a-date night...
Emma had to remind herself a few times over dinner that this still wasn't a date and they were just two old friends playing catch up, but even she had to admit that it sort of felt like a date. She'd been careful in choosing her wardrobe, picking clothing that was fancy enough to suit the restaurant's atmosphere, yet casual enough to not give off mixed signals. She'd decided on a simple, black twill pencil skirt with a hemline that stopped just above her knees and paired it with a pale pink blouse and matching cardigan sweater. She probably should have worn dress shoes with her outfit but instead, she'd opted to wear her favorite knee-high black leather boots - using the rationale that as a deputy sheriff, she could get called to duty at any time so she'd rather have something comfy on her feet.
Walsh, of course, looked a bit more dapper than she did since he was still clad in the same grey pinstripe suit as earlier and Emma certainly couldn't deny that she was still attracted to him. She also remembered vividly that Walsh had been her rebound. They'd met only a few months after Neal had abandoned her and while she hadn't really been prepared for a new relationship at that time, she and Gibbons had just clicked.
They'd both been searching for something that day - he, a stolen painting belonging to a client and she, the thief who'd pilfered it and then jumped bail before revealing the whereabouts of said stolen painting. She'd captured the thief, but he'd already sold the artwork that, as far as she knew, never did turn up again. Either way, they'd found each other - and it was exactly what she'd needed at the time. She hadn't felt so comfortable talking to another human being for a long time - maybe even more than when she'd been with Neal.
Tonight, even after a couple of years, they'd settled right back into that welcome conversation, each filling the other in on what they'd been doing since their relationship had ended.
"It was such a wonderful surprise to run into you this morning, Emma," Walsh flashed a huge smile as he took a sip from his goblet of pinot noir. "I knew coming up here that there was certainly a chance that our paths would cross, but I couldn't be sure if you'd even want to see me."
"Why would you think that? We ended things amicably enough."
"I couldn't be sure…"
"So, you were going to come into my town and not even contact me?" she chuckled. "It's okay. I get it… Even though we ended things on good terms - well, at least I think we did, we were both just heading in different directions."
"And what direction are you heading in now?" he asked, innocently enough, but the question caught her off-guard.
"What do you mean?"
"Just curious, I guess. I hadn't expected you to end up working as a small town deputy and I wonder if you were able to find out some of that family history that you were always talking about back then. I mean, obviously it must be what brought you to Storybrooke."
"I'm a deputy because my brother - well, half-brother, offered me the job, so I suppose that finding him put me on this path. As for the rest, I'm still searching, but I'm making some headway."
"But no one special in your life yet?"
"Not yet. I'm still waiting on that, but I guess most of my life is still a work in progress…"
"Aren't all of ours?"
"I guess so," she snickered, finishing off the last of the chardonnay in her glass.
"Would you like another glass of wine?" Walsh offered.
"No, I'd better not. It's getting late and I've got an early shift tomorrow so I'd better go easy on the wine."
"I understand, my dear. I'm just so glad that you agreed to join me this evening. Feels like old times."
"It sure does," she agreed.
"I have to say that this does kinda remind me of that one night at Frederico's…"
"Oh my gosh, I remember that night! Are you thinking of before or after that huge rat came running through the dining room though?" she laughed heartily as she recalled the night in question.
"Definitely before," he replied, joining in the revelry. "Things went a little downhill after that…"
"You don't say…" she muttered sarcastically as his gaze caught hers. He clearly was ready to change the subject, expression growing more pensive as he took in the sparkle of her emerald eyes.
"Definitely made us rush out of there in a hurry. Anyway, Emma, I just have to say that it was wonderful to spend this time with you tonight and if I'm not being too presumptive, I was hoping that maybe we might be able to do this again another night before I head back to Boston?"
"I'd like that," she responded with a warm smile. "Maybe we can plan something later this week." She took a quick glance down at her phone resting atop the table and saw that it was nearly 10PM. Crap, she had the 7AM shift tomorrow! "Unfortunately right now I really should get going. Thank you so much for a lovely dinner, Walsh."
"You are most welcome, Emma. What's the best way to get in touch with you?"
"Well, you can always drop by the station… or you could call. My cell phone number hasn't changed since we dated. You remember it?"
"I do. I'll give you a call when I have some free time tomorrow."
"Sounds good," she grinned as she stood up from the table and started to pull on her burgundy trench coat.
Walsh stood as well and helped her into the coat. "Would you like me to walk you home?"
"I'll be fine, I assure you. You do remember that as a law enforcement officer, I do carry a weapon? Also, Granny's is right around the corner. It's silly for you to go so far out of your way…"
"I don't mind," he pressed, offering deep brown puppy dog eyes pleading for her to give in.
"Seriously, I'm a big girl, Walsh, and I need to make a stop at the station before I head home anyway, but I'll definitely see you later this week."
"I do hope so," he sighed expectantly as she squeezed his left hand and leaned in to give him a quick, friendly peck on the cheek. As she did, she caught a glimpse of his expression in her peripheral vision and there was an odd look in his eyes. Was that disappointment? Had he expected something more? He was smiling as she left the restaurant so maybe she'd misread it. After all, this wasn't exactly a date…
She found it difficult to shake the awkward feeling that she'd committed some sort of faux pas that soured an otherwise wonderful evening. She dwelled on the thought all the way to the Sheriff station where she retrieved a warmer jacket from her locker, needing it after the nighttime temperature plummeted far lower than her attire was planned for. After that brief pit stop, she found herself taking an unplanned detour that led straight down to the Rabbit Hole, Storybrooke's most colorful tavern. She'd decided that she wasn't ready to return home and as long as she was walking home, a couple of drinks to cloud her overactive brain wouldn't matter.
She shrugged off her heavier, camel colored leather coat as she descended the staircase to the basement bar. There were a few regulars perched on their usual stools directly in front of the bartender, but the place wasn't really crowded - which was even more appealing to her. Emma slid into an unoccupied slot and flagged down the barkeep.
"Remy - can I get a Jack straight up?" she placed her order and immediately decided to amend it. "On second thought, make it a double."
The bartender nodded, swiftly swooping up the bottle of liquor from the shelf with his right hand while his left hand flipped over a clean glass. Placing the glass in front of her, he filled it with the amber liquor. Emma nodded her thanks and slid a twenty dollar bill across the bar as she picked up her drink, weaving her way through the dimly lit tavern toward a table in a quiet corner. She dropped her coat onto one of the chairs and then slumped her weary body into the other chair with her back to the wall. She sighed loudly as she took the first sip from her glass, grimacing at the initial bite of the alcohol as it coated her throat while simultaneously relishing the burn and its numbing effects.
She sat there alone and silent for a few minutes, absentmindedly lighting and extinguishing the candle inside the glass jar atop the table with repeated flicks and swishes of her wand. She was enjoying the solitude but before long, she sensed someone approaching her - someone who smelled strongly of leather with hints of salt water and sweet rum.
"This would hardly seem to be the type of establishment I'd expect to be patronized by such a beautiful lady…," a velvety, accented voice spoke up from above her. She immediately recognized it as belonging to the alluring Captain Killian Jones. Suddenly, this evening was developing some new complications - and intriguing ones at that…
"I suppose that would depend on your definition of lady," she responded nonchalantly, not even bothering to look up at him yet as the butterflies in her stomach had her fearing she might melt at the mere sight of him. "Not feeling particularly ladylike at the moment," she stated as she tipped her head back and swallowed the rest of the liquor in her glass in a single gulp.
"Well then, no proper gentleman likes to see a lady drinking alone." He took a step to the side and positioned himself directly in front of her just as her sight finally drifted upward, taking in every inch of his appearance until their eyes finally met. "You do look stunning this evening, Deputy Swan, and I would be utterly honored if you would allow me the pleasure of joining you…"
Rolling her eyes at his off-handed flattery, she gestured to the chair currently occupied by her leather coat. "Have a seat, Captain Jones. Sorry about the jacket there… I hadn't planned on company."
"Please - no formalities. Killian will suffice," he reminded her as he carefully hung her coat over the chair back before sitting down opposite her. He placed his own glass of spiced rum on the table top and leaned in toward her. "Would you like another?" he asked as he nodded at her empty drink.
"Sorry, Killian. I'll try to remember that… And sure - I'm not nearly drunk enough yet…"
"Rough evening, lass?" Killian asked as he waved to the bartender for a refill. It wasn't his intention to pry but her choice of words certainly left him questioning how she'd ended up here after purporting to have had plans with someone else earlier in the evening.
"No," she sighed as Remy dropped off another glass of whiskey then scurried out of their way. "Just a complicated one…" she added.
"Evenings that end in a lonely tavern generally tend to be," he agreed, swirling the rum in his glass before finishing it off. "Did your plans for this eve fall through?"
"No, they did not," she assured him, irritation evident in her voice. "I had dinner earlier tonight with an old friend - although I'm not sure why I'm even telling you this…"
"Old friend or old lover?" he continued, probably crossing the line of what a casual acquaintance should be inquiring.
"That's a little personal, don't you think?" she snapped back, annoyed that he'd even ask such a question when they scarcely knew each other.
"Apologies, love," he responded sincerely. "I was merely attempting to make conversation and I should not have been so forward."
"He was both, if you must know." She surprised him with her blunt honesty. "But we weren't on a date. We were just having dinner - and it was a nice dinner, too… We were enjoying some good food and reminiscing - at least until I was ready to leave…" She caught herself rambling and almost stopped there. Maybe it was the alcohol fueling her right now, but she chose to continue the story. "He seemed so disappointed that things ended a little abruptly because I'm supposed to be working the early shift in the morning. That probably isn't going to happen now, but anyway, it was almost like he was expecting more… You know…?"
"Expecting more of what?" Killian wasn't sure if it was wise to push for more details but she'd revealed this much of her evening's events and he was genuinely interested in learning more. Something about this woman fascinated him and he wanted nothing more than to learn everything about her.
"I don't know - like he wanted a good night kiss or something. Not something that you generally should expect at the end of a casual dinner with a friend…"
"Perhaps you misread his intentions?" Killian suggested, his first instinct to defend his potential rival to be less likely to offend her.
"Maybe," she sighed as she nervously tapped the side of her glass with her index finger as she replayed the events in her head again. "That's why I'm so conflicted about it. Walsh was a good guy, but when we dated, I was just coming off of a very bad relationship. I don't know if running into him earlier today was meant to be a second chance for us or if things will just end like they did before. I like him, I really do, but I'm not really sure if he's the love of my life or not."
"How does one know for sure if they've met the love of their life, Swan?" he queried, perhaps rhetorically as she downed half of the liquor in her second glass. "After all, you've not even had a night out with me yet."
"Are you always this presumptuous?" she half-asked and half-snorted whiskey from her nose at his brash statement. "You think you're the love of my life?"
"There are certainly an abundance of ways to find out," he replied with a side-eyed smirk and an almost sinful bite down on his bottom lip. "Of course, we could start with a proper date, if you're so inclined? Would you care to join me aboard my ship tomorrow evening to dine with me?"
"Dinner on a ship full of sailors? Doesn't sound very romantic… or private…"
"I shall give my crew an evening's liberty. Only necessary personnel would remain onboard so we would have the Jolly Roger virtually to ourselves. I assure you - none of my crew would dare compromise their captain's privacy."
"Alright then, Captain - Killian. It's a date." It was probably the whiskey talking, but she wasn't nearly drunk enough to consider her decision making compromised.
"How does 7PM sound?"
"It sounds like a date," she replied with a broad, mildly inebriated smile.
"Good. Now, since it is nearly midnight, I must be heading back to my ship. Would you care to join me for the walk back?"
"Oh, my brother would love that - a strange man from out of town walking his sister home in the middle of the night? I may be a little bit tipsy, but I'm still capable of getting myself home." She gave him the same I can take care of myself speech that she'd given Walsh, but as she took a moment to stare at the man seated across from her, she started second-guessing her resolve. "On second thought, you know what - my place is on the way to the harbor so yeah, we can walk it together. If anyone asks, I'm escorting you back to your ship…"
Killian let out a hearty guffaw, more than willing to play along. He couldn't quite place why he found himself so enamored of this woman yet he found himself utterly fascinated with every aspect of her - her beauty, her demeanor, her intelligence. For the first time in a long time, he sensed feelings stirring that no mere pretty face would trigger. He wanted to know everything about Emma Swan and that would certainly mean finding a method of getting through her tough exterior. He was up for the challenge and it just might take a different kind of magic than Storybrooke was used to.
