Emma did not want to do this. And she had told Mary Margaret that in every human way possible. If she thought barking it out would've worked, she would have done that too. But no. This was her life and her frustratingly romantic and optimistic best friend that just did not understand how she could not hit it off right away with this math teacher from MM's school. Math teacher, really? Emma wasn't a judgmental person but come on. Couldn't he at least teach English or music?

So in conclusion, Emma really didn't want to be in this bar. On a freaking blind date. And she may or may not have already talked herself into absolutely hating this guy. And she may or may not have come in her jeans and sneakers and her least fitted t-shirt on purpose. And she may or may not have gotten a nasty phone call from Neal aka The King of the Douchebags just last night. And she may or may not have thrown back two tequila shots before even looking around the bar. But none of that was anybody's business.

Checkered shirt and black jeans was all the description MM had given her. Oh, yes, and he was a brunet and drank beer which applied to half of the freaking population of New York and more than half of the men in this bar.

Of course, not unlike when she shopped and always managed to set her eyes on the prettiest and most expensive handbag, Emma's gaze fell on a man in the corner who fitted the description. Except for the part where she couldn't picture the edgy and smoldering hot stranger in a classroom to save her life. Also her luck really wasn't that good.

Except just when she was about to force her eyes to scan the rest of the patrons the man looked up and finding her staring grinned at her and gave her the most infuriating wink before leisurely tilting his head towards the empty chair across from him.

Later, when MM would ask her what on earth came over her, Emma wouldn't be able to find an answer. Perhaps it was the alcohol burning in her empty stomach, perhaps it was the fact that she had already decided to hate the guy (perhaps it was the bitter taste left from talking to a guy she actually hated), perhaps it was simply her rage at the waste of such a fine specimen. Because no way in hell wasn't he all kinds of wrong for her.

Whatever it was, it left Emma stalking towards the stranger and pulling out the chair across from him in a manner that could only be described as aggressive.

"Alright, let's make this quick because I have absolutely no desire to waste my time in some sleazy bar with some asshole that couldn't even come over to tell me he was the one I was looking for," shot out Emma before the guy could even open his mouth.

The shock and confusion on his face made her feel better. Maybe this evening could be of some use after all. Maybe she could teach this one a thing or two so next time he wouldn't look quite so stunned at getting what he deserved.

"First of all, it is creepy to tell Mary Margaret that you have been 'admiring me' every time I had lunch with her and just couldn't let things end like that. What things?! There's nothing between us! I didn't even know your name before she set up this ridiculous date. I had never even seen you face which only makes you admiring mine all the more creepy!"

The guy had the nerve to lean back in his seat and Emma could've sworn she saw amusement flicker in his blue eyes. She hadn't notice the eyes from across the bar and she suddenly thought that if she had she might have opened with something nicer. Which was ridiculous because she wasn't that superficial and a pair of stunning, soulful and absolutely piercing blue eyes made no difference, no matter how flatteringly focused they were on her own.

"Also you could have at least asked for my number instead of letting Mary Margaret do all the work! But, oh, the one thing you apparently had input on was this place, the kinds of which I only enter when I have to deal with the cheapest of sleazeballs out there so kudos for that."

Emma saw interest flash across his face at that but no way was she sharing any more details about her job. The guy chuckled, shaking his head slightly, and opened his mouth again but Emma raised her hand, not interested in his defense of his 'favourite hang out' or whatever.

"Then there's tonight. You could have at least called or texted me to tell me how to recognize you instead of once again going through my friend and giving her a shitty-ass description-"

The guy tried to get a word in again but Emma just powered on.

"- as if it is my job to search this shithole for your all-important self."

Inhaling deeply, Emma nodded, more to herself than the guy in front of her. Yeah, she might have gone a bit too far but after all the disastrous blind dates she has had, it had been coming for a long time. And maybe this time Mary Margaret would get the hint when this guy went to her on Monday, looking like a kicked puppy.

Which wasn't how he looked right now. He looked… intrigued. In a way that send a shiver down Emma's spine. What was his deal? What was her deal?

The guy finally removed his penetrating gaze from hers and looked her up and down and Emma tried hard not to squirm. Asshole or not, she didn't exactly enjoy looking like she just finished jogging in front of Mr Sex Incarnate. When he looked back into her eyes though he looked almost… charmed. Yeah, she had to get out of here and really, creepy math teachers should be allowed to be this stunning, let alone… cute.

"See you never," she threw at him as she rose from her chair, no point in changing her tune now.

"If I may just-"

She whirled around, the guy was standing now, and Emma honestly didn't know if it was the accent that stopped her or the laughter she could hear in his voice, making her eyes narrow dangerously.

"I didn't come to you because I didn't want to seem too forward, seeing as I was not aware of any prior arrangement with a beautiful woman," he said quickly before she could start berating him again.

Emma's brows furrowed in confusion and suspicion.

"Now, I have no idea who Mary Margaret is," continued the brunet, watching with amusement as realization and horror slowly dawned on Emma's face. "But I can assure you that had I been the one lucky enough to spot you in her company, I most certainly wouldn't have missed the chance to introduce myself. Killian Jones, by the way."

He bowed his head slightly and Emma felt her cheeks flush even more at the obviously gentlemanly manner of the guy. Great. Just great. Of all the sleazebags in this bar she had to pick the one decent man. She opened her mouth to stammer out an apology but he held up his hand in imitation of the way she had stopped him earlier, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

"I'm quite aware that there's nothing between us even if I'd now very much like to change that. If I knew Mary Margaret, I would have asked her for your number even though I'd rather ask you directly. I most certainly wouldn't have arranged a date in here. I myself only set foot in this place because my mate Will is too lazy to drag himself more than a block from his apartment and is obviously late even when I concede to come here. And believe me, love, if you were supposed to meet me I would have most certainly called you and given you explicit details to make sure you didn't wind up sitting in front of some other lucky bastard."

Emma stood gaping at the man in front of her, watching her evening take a 180 degree turn, and trying to swallow down her embarrassment so that she could actually respond.

"Emma Swan," she managed eventually, extending her head and feeling only a twinge of surprise as he raised it to his lips instead of shaking it.

Of fucking course.

"So, ummm," Emma screwed up her courage, thinking that the poor guy had seen enough that if he was going to run he would've done it twice by now. "Where would you take a girl on a blind date?"

Killian's smile was probably the single most delightful sight she had ever witnessed and she was so screwed.

"I'm glad you asked, love."