"But I'd need your name, too, so I could chisel it in on the side of one of the olives, or several of the olives if you have a name like 'Humdinger Frenchfries' or something," she sad, smiling as she bit down on her bottom lip. "Which would actually serve you right, being as cute as you are. You need at least one immediate flaw in terms of the initial impression, I think. Just to make it fair to everyone else." She shifted to move and brace both hands on the table, leaning in as opposed to propping her hip against it. "Not that you've given me your name yet, you mysterious stranger, you."

At his question, she had to chuckle and sigh all at once as she gave an aggrieved nod. "I do. It's a tiny little place called Storybrooke. Before I came here I'd never gone anywhere." She tipped her head as she looked him over. He had an accent, though if she tried to guess where he was from she was sure she'd sound as ignorant as she actually was. Best just to ask. "Where do you come from?"