Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Once Upon A Time (to be honest I never really saw the point of these)

Chapter 1 - A Sly Bastard

The Hotel restaurant was beginning to clear out by the time Emma gave up on her "date" showing up and moved over to the bar. It was an odd and unfamiliar feeling for her, getting stood up by a skip, but given her history she knew there were worse things than losing out on a pay-check. She was confident she'd get the guy anyway, even if it took a little more effort than a honey trap.

By the time the bartender took her order (scotch neat) she had resolved herself to a limit of one, knowing that she had to get home to Henry. She was fortunate enough to have friends that were willing to babysit late on a Friday night so she could work and she wouldn't allow herself to take advantage of that by getting buzzed at the hotel bar. Tonight it was Elsa watching Henry, which was usual on weekends seeing as Ruby usually had pre-existing plans and chose to take the odd weeknight's Emma had to work.

Knowing she had people she trusted to take care of her son made Emma's job much easier, or at least as easy as chasing down bail skippers could be, but alas tonight it all seemed to go to waste.

/

He couldn't believe his luck, and the huge deal he finalized just a few hours earlier wasn't the reason why. No, the reason came in the form of a blonde woman in a pink dress that embodied the term "if looks could kill." She'd entered the restaurant close to the forty-five minute mark of his celebratory dinner and he'd spent the last forty-five minutes stealing glances at her from a couple tables away.

About fifteen minutes after arriving she began checking the time regularly and with each passing minute he began to wonder what kind of git would stand up a woman like that. It was hard to stop himself from hoping that the guy wasn't just stuck in traffic, so he didn't.

A half-hour in she moved to the bar, seeming angry at being stood up, but not at all distraught by it as most people would be. And damn it if that didn't increase his desire to speak to her ten-fold. He immediately started thinking of an exit strategy, needing this dinner to end before the blonde disappeared from the hotel all together.

An unsatisfactory amount of time later, after not bothering to argue about the bill, a few good-natured handshakes and convincing his agent that he was simply going to have a drink at the bar as the wine during dinner hadn't done it for him (no I don't need company, thank you) he was joyously making his way over to the bar. Stomping down what he knew was a stupid grin he slid onto the stool next to the beautiful blonde.

/

Emma regretted her decision to extend her limit to two the moment her solitude was broken and she felt a distinctly male presence slide onto the stool next to her. She angled herself away and rolled her eyes because of course, of course, she can't sit alone at a bar and enjoy a drink without some wanna be Lothario trying to pick her up.

Steeling herself she faced forward again, catching a peak of him out of the corner of her eye. He was handsome, she'd give him that, and well off judging by the crispness of his no doubt two thousand dollar suit and expensive hair cut. There was something distinctly roguish about the stranger as well with his neatly stubbled jaw and clear blue eyes. Emma guessed that he was the type of man that was used to getting what he wanted and pre-Henry she would have been a more then willing participant, but now he was barking up the wrong tree.

The bartender took notice of him quickly, probably having learnt to recognise the rich early and hoping for a good tip.

"Rum neat, please," the man spoke for the first time.

The accent caught Emma off guard but she didn't bother being surprised by it because of course roguish rich guy was also British. Why not, right? Emma internally rolled her eyes and took a long sip from her glass.

He seemed to notice her dwindling drink and took the opportunity to finally speak to her.

"Can I get you another, love?" he asked, as his own drink was placed in front of him. The bartender paused for a moment waiting for her answer.

"Nope," she replied curtly.

His face grew contemplative for a moment before an amused chuckle fell from his lips and he waved the bartender away. She was pleasantly surprised by the fact that he didn't push and decided that perhaps he wouldn't be the worst person to spend a few minutes with while she finished her drink.

"Do you have a name, love?"

"Yes," she replied but didn't continue. His face got that same contemplative look again, and she knew he was trying very hard to figure her out. He gave a short nod when he seemed to realise that she wasn't actually going to tell him what it was.

"Well I'm Killian, if you were wondering. Not that I was entertaining the thought that you might have been," he said teasingly and for the first time Emma actually allowed a small smile to grace her lips. It was short lived. She couldn't remember the last time she had simply sat and flirted with a guy she wasn't trying to slap handcuffs on, but she did remember why it had been so long and she knew it was time to call it a night.

"I have to get home to my son."

It was her escape line, and it never failed to scare guys away. At least up until this moment it had never failed. Killian just seen fit to turn towards her on his stool in challenge, almost daring her to come up with something better if she wanted to get him to run.

"Does that usually work?" Killian asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, actually, but I get the idea that you won't be so easily deterred."

"Hmm, you're rather observant."

"You have to be in my line of work. If I couldn't read men, I'd be out of the job," she mumbled into her glass as she finished it off, only realising she'd opened up a line of conversation when it was too late.

"And pray tell, what is it exactly that you do?" Killian asked, genuine interest lacing his voice, which in the end was the only reason she answered him.

"I'm a bail-bondsperson."

Emma watched as Killian's head tilted slightly, then quickly, he raised his glass to his mouth and finished it off in one go, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. When he finished his eyes returned to Emma's and a grin covered his lips.

"Love, the next time you want to scare a man off, open with that."

She tried to fight her smile, but this guy was charming and handsome and it was quickly getting to her. For the first time in years Emma found herself wanting to stay and get to know a man, but the knowledge of her son at home and all the pain she'd gone through to have and keep him reminded her that she couldn't. It was too dangerous.

"I'll keep that in mind, but for now I really do have to get home to my son," Emma said earnestly as she reached for her purse, hoping to pay quickly and make a hasty exit.

"Will you at least tell me your name?" Killian asked, causing Emma to pause in the exploration of her small purse. She weighed the pros and cons in her head for a moment before responding.

"Emma, my name is Emma," she didn't bother with a last name seeing as he hadn't either.

"Well, Emma, I'm going to write my name and number down on this napkin," he spoke, grabbing the napkin in question and pulling a sharpie from his pocket. Emma was too distracted by his boldness to wonder about why he would carry such a thing around, "and I'm going to leave it here on the bar and hope that you take it after a walk away, because trust me when I say that I really don't want someone else to find it. Then I'm gonna go back up to my hotel room and hope that you call me before Monday, because that's when I go back to London."

He slid the napkin a little closer but not close enough for her to feel pressured to take it and then smoothly stood and offered her a small nod.

"It was nice meeting you, Emma."

He was gone before Emma could reply. She stared down at the napkin 'Killian Jones' written neatly across it and his number written just as neatly below. Finally she tore her eyes away and caught the bartender's attention. Digging into her purse she pulled out her credit card to pay but stopped short when the bartender spoke.

"That's not necessary, miss."

"What," Emma asked, staring at him blankly and blinking a few times.

"It's been taken care of."

Realisation dawned on Emma quickly.

"That bastard payed for my drinks didn't he?" The nerve of Killian Jones had her scrunching the napkin up in anger. The bartender seemed to notice her frustration and gave a swift reply before making an even quicker escape.

"If it makes you feel any better he payed for the whole bar."

Emma's jaw dropped and her hand released the vice like grip it had on the napkin.

"Sly bastard," Emma mumbled as she shoved the napkin into her purse.

She purposely mentioned nothing of the incident to Elsa when she got home.

/