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Emma Swan prided herself on being fearless. Well, fearless when it came to big bads and things that went bump in the night anyway. That was where it counted, right?
Drinking her weight in whiskey, however, seemed to produce the opposite effect. Shadows loomed longer, rustling leaves becoming infinitely more ominous as she walked back to her apartment. She cursed her own idiocy for ducking out on her friend Ruby while she was bathroom. But Ruby was far less drunk than she was (making eyes at the handsome stranger at the bar with near sober precision) and bed was calling her name.
Maybe she shouldn’t have watched that horror movie marathon last night. It was very different when you were snuggled under a fleece blanket, giggling maniacally into a bowl of Cheetos.
Maybe she just needed to shut her brain up. She wiggled her phone out of the pocket of her jeans, slowly hitting each key to dial Ruby’s number.
“Distract me.” Emma barked into the general direction of the phone speaker.
“Sorry?” came a smooth, male, and distinctly British reply.
Emma stopped in her tracks, utterly confused.
“Huh? Did Ruby give you permission to answer her phone already? Is this random bar hunk I’m speaking to?”
“Unfortunately I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting Ruby but I can assure you I’m devilishly handsome. Not sure of where that puts me on the hunk scale.” She could hear the warmth of his smile through the phone as she pulled it from against her ear to stare at it.
“Oh. Uh, I guess I have the wrong number.” Emma blinked but her head remained hazy, veins beginning to pulse a rhythm on her forehead.
“I’d say that’s a fair assumption, love. But tell me, why do you need a distraction and in what form?”
Love? Is this guy serious right now? Emma cast a worried glance behind her before resuming her walk towards home.
“Tree-lined streets are pretty and all that but at night they’re fucking creepy. I just wanted to talk to my friend..”
“Ah. Well in that case, I’ll introduce myself properly and we can speed this whole friendship thing along. I’m Killian Jones. Hopefully I can be a worthy substitute.”
“Listen Killy-” Emma began, the heel of her boot hitting the pavement with a sharp click.
“Killian.” The stranger corrected, tone still radiating amusement.
“Killian-”
“You still haven’t mentioned your name, love.” God, he is actually proving to be a useful distraction. Emma growled audibly.
“Emma.”
“Just Emma? Brilliant. Easier to remember with only the one name. Now Emma, how I can I help to distract you? I assume you’re on your way home?”
Emma scoffed “Dude, I’m not going to tell you where I am. You could be a murderer with a hook for a hand or something.”
“I seem to remember mentioning my name was Killian, but if you prefer dude I’m sure we can come to an understanding.”
“Why am I still talking to you?”
“I’m your new devilishly handsome friend who’s helping distract you, remember?”
Emma rolled her eyes, a smile threatening to dance across her lips.
“Fine. do you take requests?” Her fuzzy brain tripping across a moment of clarity.
“Of course, Emma.”
“Sing Bohemian Rhapsody in its entirety.” She held back a snicker at her ridiculous request.
“Bohemian Rhapsody?” Emma could tell he was taken aback. Her smile was at full strength now.
“Mhm. You know it, don’t you? I mean, everyone knows it. And really sell it, please.”
“As you wish,” came the response, the agreement nearly sending Emma on her ass in a fit of giggles.
As soon as he started the giggles were replaced with wide-eyed amazement. Those pipes. The rich timber of his voice was already music to her ears, but his singing voice was positively dangerous.
Emma had made it to her front door, trying to keep her keys from jangling too loudly, as he reached “Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me..”. She was enthralled as she put the kettle on. legs curling under her as she sat on her sofa.
He had even sung the guitar solos.
“Wow.” was all she could utter once he was finished.
“Did that do the trick, love?”
“I’d say so, yeah. Thank you.”
“Are you home safe now?” Emma detected true concern in his voice.
“Yes. I didn’t want to interrupt you mid-performance.”
“Good. Now when do I get to hear your dulcet tones?”
“Excuse me?”
“I do believe it’s tomorrow that The Rabbit Hole hosts karaoke. What do you say we make a date of it?”
Emma swallowed down her panic. “Look, I’m grateful for the distraction but we haven’t even met.”
“Afraid you couldn’t handle a little friendly competition, Emma?” Her mysterious stranger challenged. She tried to convince herself he didn’t sound handsome. She failed miserably.
“Please, you couldn’t handle it.”
“Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.” He said, not missing a beat.
Screw it.
“Meet me there at 8. If you turn out to be a jerk, I’m totally changing my number.” Emma felt the whiskey fog clearing, shaking her head at her behaviour.
“Completely reasonable. How will I recognize you?”
“I’ll be the blonde in the Queen t-shirt.”