***Author's Note: While I am not a fan of Killian Jones/Captain Hook from the show, I am a fan of Colin O'Donahue. That being said, I really like the idea of Killian and Regina being good friends and have incorporated that into my story. Thank you for reading! And please let me know what you think!***
Emma's first thought as she walks into Regina's is that it is much bigger on the inside than it looks from the street. It is currently not very busy and she can hear the music playing softly from a vintage jukebox that is right next to the front door. She looks around some more, taking in her surroundings. Just left of the bar, there is a raised platform stage where a microphone is standing but is without a musician or band, which is not a surprise since it is the middle of the week. She recognizes a contraption on the far side of the stage that has a monitor connected to it, and a large flyer on the wall behind it advertising Thursday's Karaoke Night confirms her hunch. She thinks that maybe she should stop in tomorrow and watch people sing because it might be entertaining and would give her something to do besides just holing up in her hotel room. She also sees that there is a space in front of the stage without any tables or chairs and thinks that it is probably a dance floor when the appropriate music is playing. In the far corner there are two arm chairs and a loveseat right by a large bookcase full of books and she knows that she has found a place to read on her days off.
Turning towards the bar, Emma expects to see waitstaff or a bartender but no one is there. On the other side of the bar, opposite the stage, there is a billiards table. A couple of girls who look like they could be models, but at the same time look too young to be hanging out at a bar, are playing a game of pool. One of the girls, the brunette one, is wearing a skirt that is borderline too short and a very tight top that accentuates both her midriff and her chest. The girls receive smiles and hollers from a table of guys to Emma's right which makes both of them giggle with pride. This makes Emma feel slightly uncomfortable but mostly because she is currently in slacks with a white button-up top, a requirement of the staffing agency for all of their employees, while everyone else in the bar is dressed very casually. She tenses up a bit but decides that she can always just order something to take with her if she does not shake the uneasiness after she has had a drink.
Overall, the place seems really nice. On the spectrum of dive bars versus the classy joints that are too pricey for no apparent reason other than a likely dress code and swanky glassware, this fits closer to the former and yet there is a homey look about it. She likes that there are no televisions mounted anywhere except for a small one behind the bar. Sports bars tend to get a little too rowdy and she would easily choose good music or live bands over a sports game any day of the week. This could become her regular haunt for sure, but she can think about all of that at a later time. Right now, what she truly needs this very moment is to find a chair so that she can sit down. After checking the scene again, she opts for the bar and walks as gently as she can towards it.
Emma is painfully positioning herself onto the barstool when she hears, "You alright there, Miss? That really shouldn't be as difficult as you're making it look."
Surprised by the man's sudden presence, Emma nearly loses her balance on the swiveling chair. He is clearly amused by the smirk on his face and she feels her cheeks get warm with embarrassment. She laughs it off though and replies softly, "I'm usually a lot more graceful. I've just had a very long day." Then she takes a second to study him. He is a very handsome man and she thinks that his foreign accent probably wins him the affection of all the ladies. It is Irish, maybe. When she realizes that she is staring, she clears her throat and says, "I think that I could really use a drink."
"Of course! That's what we're here for." He finishes drying the glass that he has in his hands, puts it into the cooler, and turns to grab a laminated card that is sitting on the counter behind him sliding it onto the bar top in front of Emma. "We have reverse happy hour that started at ten. Draft beers are five dollars, craft bottles four, domestic bottles two-fifty. The house special is a homemade red apple cider and it is superb." He says as he smiles at her.
Emma contemplates the cider but she needs to be back at the arena tomorrow morning by 9am for another twelve-hour shift and she knows that she will need to order a beverage with as little sugar as possible so that she does not wake up feeling miserable. So, she makes a mental note to come back to try the cider another time. "Actually, I think I need something stronger than that. I'll just take a bourbon. Neat. Do you have Maker's Mark?" She reaches for her phone in her back pocket and pulls her debit card and ID out from behind the case handing it to him.
"Absolutely. Coming right up." He takes the cards from Emma and takes a moment to look at the ID. Then he hands it back to her and turns to grab the bottle of Maker's. He pours Emma a little more than two fingers of bourbon and puts it down on the bar in front of her. "Did you want to start a tab Emma, or are you thinking just one and done?" He asks.
She sips her drink and remembers that she is still starving and will probably regret having the whiskey without any food in her system. Also, she really wants to try that burger that is advertised on the display out front. "You can leave it open. May I look at a menu?"
His face changes instantly, his look genuinely apologetic. "Crap, sorry, on weeknights we close our kitchen at 11pm."
Emma quickly looks down at her phone. "Shit." It is 11:11pm. Frustratingly, she catches her face in her hands and takes a deep breath. Had she just taken the stairs up to where she is parked, she could be having the half of a chocolate chip muffin right now which is much better than no food at all. She straightens and sighs, "You know what, that's fine. I'll actually just take my check, thank you." It comes out harsher than she intends but it seems too late to retract or even apologize for being so unpleasant.
The bartender frowns at Emma and contemplates his options. "Hmm, actually, hang tight for a second. Let me talk to the boss. I'm sure that we can work something out." Then he turns and disappears into the doorway behind the bar before she could stop him.
Now, on top of feeling like a petulant child for her reaction, Emma also feels a pang of guilt. She had served in restaurants and bars in the past and knows how irritating last minute and late guests can be. She really hates that she is being one of those people so she leans over the bar making sure that her voice could carry into the back room. "Hey, really, don't worry about it. I didn't mean to be so short with you just now. I'll be-"
Before she can finish what she is saying, he is back in view again. "It seems to be your lucky day. Cook's in a good mood today and says that we can take care of you before shutting everything down. So tell me, what would you like to eat?"
Emma feels heat on her cheeks again. "You really didn't have to do that. I feel really badly about this."
He ignores her comment. "Ah, let me grab you the menu." He walks out from behind the bar and towards the front door where there is a mirror on the wall. He pulls it open revealing a secret compartment with stacks of paper napkins as well as all the menus. He grabs one and walks it back to where Emma is standing, handing it over to her. "I feel obligated to tell you that everything is delicious but the burgers are exceptionally so. Homemade recipe, made with love." He wiggles his eyebrows at her and she cannot help but smile. He really is quite the charmer.
Without even looking at the menu, she hands it back to him."I'll definitely take the burger, with everything on it, cheese and no ketchup. And thank you again. Thank you so much. And please thank the cook for me."
He nods happily and disappears into the back once again. When he comes back, Emma is sitting with both hands around her glass and looks as if she is lost in her own thoughts. He speaks up awkwardly pulling her out of her reverie. "So, what brings you to Washington?" The confusion must have been evident on her face because he chuckles at Emma's expression and then explains, "Well, for one, most people aren't from here. Almost everyone is what they call a transplant. And two, you handed me a New York driver's license so it was easy to assume that you're not from here."
Emma considers this for a moment and is not really sure how much she is actually willing to divulge to this man, someone that she does not know at all. She is not good at opening up to people, even if it happens to be a handsome bartender that just scored her a late dinner. So, she shrugs nonchalantly. "I was actually just passing through and decided to stop for a little while. It's a beautiful city." She takes another drink, the alcohol burning her throat and her empty stomach. "And I assume that you're not from here either, unless you are going to try to convince me that your accent is Washingtonian. Also, you know my name, care to share yours?" It comes out more flirty than she is intends and she hopes that she does not give him the wrong impression.
He laughs at that. "It's Killian. And how observant of you. Most people don't notice the accent at all," he says sarcastically but in a playful tone. "And you're right. Seattle is a beautiful city. And the people are just as beautiful. I was only passing through as well, but that was about eight years ago now. Fell in love and didn't want to leave."
Before she can reply, one of the girls from the pool table is walking up to them. "Killian, we need more of those apple thingies. Can you please bring two more over?" It is the brunette that needs to put on more clothes and every word she says comes out in a whiny tone. She lifts herself up and leans over pressing herself onto the bar top. Emma just looks down at her glass and rolls her eyes. Once the girl sees that Killian has started her order, she walks back towards her friend who is now at the table of guys chatting with them.
As he is pouring the two drinks for the girls, Emma finishes hers. He takes the glass and puts it in the sink below. "Another one?"
Emma knows that she should really stop at one, so she declines. To continue the conversation that Killian started a moment ago, she asks, "So, you were passing through but stayed here because of the beautiful city? Or a beautiful face, maybe?" She feels like maybe she is being too nosey but he is the one that makes the implication so she can only assume that it is something that he is comfortable with talking about.
He looks thoughtful for a second before replying. "I suppose a bit of both. But that's a story for when I'm sitting on that side of the bar." He says as he points at the empty spot next to her.
Emma sees that he is doing that flirty eyebrow thing again which she deduces to be his signature charming move. "Alright, fair enough." She decides not to prod any further and asks for a glass of water instead. He brings it to her just as they hear a bell ring from the back. Killian is only gone for a moment and when he returns, he has her food. It smells so wonderful that when he places it down in front of her, she starts eating without any hesitation. Within minutes, she has devoured the whole thing and as she picks at the fries, she thinks about her long work day tomorrow. She wonders how she will possibly make it through another painful day of just standing. She considers just skipping the shift but hates to compromise her credibility with the agency. All in all, this is definitely not what she had imagined for herself when she first arrived in Seattle and it makes her feel disheartened.
Emma looks up and notices that Killian is not behind the bar anymore but turns to find him clearing off the tables. She had not noticed that everyone else has gone and she is now the only one left in the bar. She checks the time, it is a quarter til midnight. She is feeling full and extremely exhausted so when he is back behind the bar, she asks him for her check.
Killian closes her tab out and clears her plate. "So, what did you think? Good, right?"
"It was really delicious. Thanks again for making an exception for me tonight. Can you please give my compliments to the cook and tell them thank you again for me."
"Hmm...or you can meet her and tell her yourself…" Killian trails off as he pokes his head into the back. "Hey, Gigi!" But there is no answer because no one is there. "Damn, she's probably around back or something."
Emma smiles. "It's alright. It's my loss, I'm sure. Maybe I'll catch her next time. And I should get going anyway because I have another long day tomorrow." She barely manages to keep her smile at that thought. She thanks him again, for the fourth time that evening, and walks towards the front door. As she pushes on the door to leave, someone simultaneously pulls hard and quick from the outside causing both of them to tumble onto the sidewalk in a tangle of limbs. "Ah-OW! Son. Of. A. Bitch!" Emma curses. She also sees that the other woman is trying to push herself up so Emma tries to maneuver off of her and accidentally swings her elbow in the woman's direction instead. Falling backwards once again, the woman grunts in exasperation. Emma starts apologizing profusely, "Oh my god, I am so, so sorry." She does not think that the situation can get any worse and that is when she looks up to see Killian standing in the doorway.
He is trying not to laugh at them but is obviously tickled by the sight. "Well, it seems you do get to meet her after all. Emma, meet Regina. She's the owner of the bar."