The Gentleman
By Shahrezad1
Disclaimer: I don't anything OUAT-related. Although I do possess a few fairytale revamps of my own. :3
Summary: Ruby finally breaks down and asks her grandmother for advice regarding a certain foreign member of the opposite gender. Ruby/Granny conversation. Heavily implied RedXCricket.
~/~/~
"…Granny?"
The name was almost a question, so plaintive it was. So that the woman in question wondered for a second not where she was, but when she was. After all, she hadn't heard her title spoken like that in years. Not since, well, since Ruby was a little girl.
The old woman's honest surprise led her to set down her tools, a red pen and a stack of what pretended to be her business budget. Sometimes she wondered if it came alive in her sleep in order to choke her, or possibly even chain her down as they were dragged further and further into debt.
Thankfully the recent addition of Mr. Booth's patronage would help tie some of the loose ends this month. Lessening the pressure that pounded behind her ears and caused her shortness of breath.
Stress, Doctor Whale had called it. She could have told him that one, without the need for a hefty fee. She was half tempted to up the price of his next meal at the diner, just for the spite of it. Especially after all the accosting he'd thrown at her granddaughter, the vampiric lech….
Oh. Ruby. Blinking at the thought derail, Granny finally responded to the girl's mournful call. Carefully. She never knew how her grandchild would react these days.
"Yes, Ruby?"
"Can I come in?"
"Of course," her permission had barely been uttered before the svelte young woman crept in. She did that fairly often, the creeping, although it was usually in the opposite direction of her surrogate mother. A habit which had gratefully eased up a bit since their last blow up, the conversation that had followed regarding Ruby's inheritance soothing some of the girl's rover tendencies. Thank goodness.
"What can I help you with, Ruby?" the no-nonsense woman asked this question in the gentlest voice she could summon up. Her granddaughter still squirmed in response, and while Granny waited she took the time to examine the girl.
Ruby was dressed more simply than usual. Less makeup, elegant hair pulled into a heavy 1940's up-do. Her tight-fitting red sheath dress was still short, but classy. With the neckline of the ruffled blouse she'd thrown on top more than making up for the hem. And instead of stilettos she wore pumps, of all wonders, and pearls at her throat and dangling from her ears.
Why, the child of her heart looked like a lady instead of a tramp! Granny was so surprised that at that moment someone could have pushed her over with a feather. But the stoic matron hid this behind the fiddling of glasses and shawl, merely waiting.
"I was wondering…if I could ask you for some advice?"
"Advice?" this time she couldn't hide her shock, and Ruby's fair features flooded crimson. It was a close color to the lipstick she wore, a more subdued affair than the hue she typically sported.
"Um, never mind. Just forget I ever asked. I should've never-."
"What kind of advice?" Granny overrode with determination, silencing the girl, "is it about a man?"
The thought became words before Granny could censor them, but the brunette's shocked expression answered the question for her. Her granddaughter looked away, fiddling with the doorjamb.
"Actually…yeah, it does."
In that moment Granny was abruptly reminded of the day when Ruby realized that her appearance affected men. The attention she'd received that evening alone had filled the gap of loneliness that her grandmother had never been able to fill. Giving Ruby something to help her forget her parents' deaths and creating a rift between them which widened further and further with each daring change she made.
Up went the hemlines, down went the plunging necks. Ruby had dyed her hair to spite her, and tried out every outrageous makeup tutorial she'd found online or in magazines as an experiment in rebellion. Granny had put her foot down on the permanent things, tattoos and piercings and such, but hadn't been able to stop her from other choices. The girl would just have to learn the consequence of her actions on her own.
Which was what made the change back to startling. Something important must have caught her for Ruby to dress so…subtly. Or someone. But who in their little backwater ditch of a town could have elicited a response like this? Certainly not any respect for her elderly relation, Granny thought with harsh honesty, which meant that it must be a man.
"Well, I was married once, believe it or not. And your grandfather didn't start off as a beast of a man, so I do have some experience. What can I help you with? Your usual methods…" Granny trailed off, cutting her verbal blunder in half. Finishing a statement like what she'd been intending, with a 'your usual methods don't get you the man, only into bed,' would definitely be a step back in this situation. No, it was time to use some of the minimal tact she'd been born with, "...well, there's always the opportunity to learn new methods, right?"
Ruby smiled in relief, "right."
This brought about her own answering smile. It felt rough and ill-used, like an old coat left in storage too long, but Granny figured that by the night's end it would soften up a bit, "alright, then. Take a seat and we'll talk."
The tall brunette perched on an ottoman nearby, her legs crossed demurely at the ankle, but not without first divesting it of a half-finished knitting project, which she handed to her grandmother. It was all red, of course, the family color. And call them both crazy, but neither one of them could seem to get the tint out of their heads. Besides, they both knew that it was probably going to end up being a shawl or some-such for Ruby anyway. So better to assume 'red' from the start.
"So, tell me about this boy of yours."
"He's, well, I don't understand him sometimes. He," she tried to motion with her hands what she meant, which failed entirely. Ruby then began what seemed a thoughtful pause, until it started dragging on, with the young woman biting her lip and clenching her hands tightly together, "well, he's not like the others. Not a boy, but…"
When that dragged out, too, the grey-haired woman prompted, "but?"
"A gentleman."
"Ah," a pause. So it was the most foreign member of their species, "and you want to know how to, what's that old word? Court a gentleman?"
"Yes. I was wondering…if you knew, well, you know, how."
"Well, my dear," Granny responded, fiddling with the knitting project in her lap, "there are two problems that make it very difficult for me to help you with. The first being that they tend to play for keeps," she shot her granddaughter a steely gaze here, maintaining eye contact until the importance of this statement was ingrained in the girl. Who finally turned away, flushing, "and second, the courting usually goes the other way around."
"W-what do you mean?" Ruby stuttered, confusion wrinkling her brow.
"They like to be the chasers, not the chased."
"Oh."
Ruby's shoulders collapsed in on one another and a look of misery took over.
Which led the old woman to remark, in a deliberately offhand attempt, "however, you're off to a good start with that outfit."
The daughter of her heart brightened.
"By the way, however did you manage to pull it together?"
"The dress is Emma's and the blouse Mary Margaret's, so I had their help," she cheerfully answered, then attempted her own nonchalance, "we based it off an old photo of you."
Granny could only splutter and stare. By the time she came to Ruby had already rambled off into another explanation.
"…and it was this really great shot where you're wearing this 1950's thing with all these straight lines, and you're looking hot and classy. There was even a this little pillbox hat, Mary called it, with jet beads that spangled in front of your eyes, and long black gloves. You looked like a movie star or something."
"I…remember. It was 1960," Granny answered distantly, "before the hippy look became popular. I was eighteen years old then, I think, and I was…borrowing my mother's dress for some formal dance thing. I think I still have it, and the gloves, in storage."
Ruby seemed, of all things, actually impressed, leaning forward with her hands on her knees in interest, "seriously? You mean, you've still got it all."
"Every bit of it," a smile quirked at her lip, "I had intended to hand them down to you one day, but when you started…well, after a while I didn't think that you'd be interested in old things like that."
It was the only time she could remember expressing her own uncertainty, and Ruby's shock was almost palpable. First in the knowledge that she'd been set to inherit something so precious that her grandmother that she could scarcely speak of it. And second in the realization that she'd nearly lost that selfsame chance at earning them because of some youthful idiocy and impulsive clothing choices.
"I could still wear some of those things, you know," Ruby's whisper cut the silence between them, as gentle as a hot knife through butter, "there's still time. And, well, they may be a bit short on me but…"
"But short isn't such a big deal these days," Granny finished, wryly. But the humor had a warm aspect to it, hidden in the folds around her eyes, and her granddaughter met it with a beaming grin and a 'what can you do?' shrug. After all, if there was one thing Granny had come to accept it was that her charge had a mind and a style of her own. Too much of anything wasn't all that much of a deterrent.
"In that case I'll have to air the pieces out tomorrow. We can alter it a bit if you'd like, so it'll fit a little better in the bust. I can honestly so that I wasn't as blessed as you."
"Ha, ha."
She smirked, "we have to get our little jokes where we can, sweetheart. And this way it'll be comfortable for when you go on your next date with him."
That, however, didn't draw out the response she'd hoped for. Ruby became solemn and unsure, wringing her hands again as her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and some irritation.
"It wouldn't really be a 'next' date, per se. More like a 'first date.'"
Granny was surprised, "you haven't snagged him yet?"
"I keep hinting, but, well," she let out a helpless shrug, "it's like I told you: Gentlemen, who can figure them out?"
The businesswoman smiled in commiseration, "yes, and I'm sure that they feel the same way about us, unfortunately. Maybe…I think I could help you along a bit more of you gave me a few more details about this gentleman of yours?" she queried carefully.
She nibbled on her lip and pulled a nearby afghan over herself, ditching the shoes and curling up before she responded, "I guess that makes sense. He…"
"…He?"
Ruby huffed out a breath, scrubbed at an itch in her layered hair, then began spouting descriptions like she was reciting a shopping list. All the while looking up, to the side, to the floor; anywhere but her own grandmother. If she did look at her and saw disappointment, she knew she'd only stop, "he's very old-school. Nicely dressed, very polite. Responsible, careful with his money, respectful. He stands up to people that, you know, step on his toes, but does it in this way that's…classy. Subtle."
"Heavens, you're not thinking of Mr. Gold, are you?" Granny asked in alarm. Ruby's expression was just as horrified.
"No, oh heck no! How could you think such a thing? That's just…ew," her mouth was slash of scarred imagination and Granny grimaced in response.
"Well, what was I supposed to think? You haven't really gone into specifics, and there are only so many men that meet the qualifications you've-."
"Granny, it's Archie."
Old eyes blinked, "Archie."
"Yes. As in Doctor Hopper, Archie. Nice man, nice dog. Always looks me in the eyes when I lean over. Never cops a feel."
Granny felt the urge to raise the price of Doctor Whale's next several meals up another twenty percent. But as for Archie… the choice was certainly unexpected but not altogether unwelcome. He was, after all, a man with a decent income, a friendly attitude, and a determination to do right. He was, to put it simply, an independent, all-around gentleman. Sure, he seemed a little, well, the kids called it 'nerdy,' but there was an intelligence there that was lacking in Ruby's usual beaus. If he was given the chance to have her he would cherish the girl like the gem she was named after, as devoted and loving as her ex-boyfriends had been cruel and uncaring.
"You're not…disappointed, are you? Think it's wrong that I'm going to try and 'sink my claws' into him?" Ruby asked tentatively, and her dear relation realized with a start that the girl had been waiting for a response. Only to come to the worst conclusion possible when one wasn't forthcoming.
"Heavens no, child! I heartily approve!" she quickly assured, "I just never thought that he was your type. You've always seemed to like the scruffy, back-woodsman sort."
A mental image came to them both of a sort of broad, smiling man with shaggy hair, but they both shook it off with only a short pause, wondering where that had come from.
"In fact, I wondered for a time if Mr. Booth wouldn't suit your fancy."
"August?" Ruby smirked, relaxing at once, "I'll admit, I was tempted. Especially after all that lemur talk. But he's only got eyes for a storytelling audience and a certain blonde, so I wouldn't be worried about me stealing him anytime soon."
"I see," Granny nodded sagely, then turned back to her near-forgotten knitting, "and Doctor Hopper? Is there a particular reason or event that led to your decision to morph into a retro bombshell?"
Ruby had the grace to flush, although it wasn't so much in embarrassment this time but from gentle teasing. When her green eyes returned to Granny's they were clear and straightforward, "he just, well. He watches out for me. Everyone else thinks that I can handle anything on my own, but he'll always, you know, open the door for me. Or ask Doctor Whale to leave when he's had too much to drink and won't leave the diner," the girl shrugged, "or he walks me home after the Miner's festival-shindig thing."
The man treats her like she's worth something, she thought sagely. A kind of respect that she's never received before. But Ruby wasn't done yet.
"I mean, it might sound weird but I imagine just walking through the rain hand in hand under his umbrella, or talking about books. Getting him his coffee and then sitting down with him to share it. I like how he's always put together, you know? And the earnest way he's always trying to help people. Even hopeless people. Like me," she laughed, gaze and voice softening, "like even on his busiest day he has time to discuss the most pointless things. And he never psychoanalyzes you, like you're a bug or something. It's more like he's a magnifying glass, showing you what's already there that you just haven't noticed yet. His hands are soft, but strong. And his smile is sweet…"
"And he does have red hair," the elderly lady remarked when the child trailed off into silence.
"There is that, I admit," Ruby giggled, "after all, I wouldn't want to break tradition."
"Of course not," Granny grinned, like a schoolgirl, before sobering, "but you have to remember, just as Archie isn't like other men that you've pursued…he's not to be treated like the rest. You must be gentle and respectful. He won't bounce back quickly if you break his heart."
Her face was a picture of worry and self-consciousness, "so what should I do?"
Granny thought about it for at least a solid five minutes, wondering what to say and what to suggest. What finally came out was only half-born, a question and a statement rolled into one. Although she had been courted herself, once upon a time, that had been a very long once upon a time ago. And Archie, well, she needed to impress upon her granddaughter the gentleness of his soul.
"I think…I think that you should be his friend."
Ruby's nose wrinkled in dismay, "you want me to friend-zone him? No way."
"That's not what I meant, I…" Granny bit her own lip in a way that she realized the both of them shared, "he will not be swayed by the, well, the means you usually go through. He'll just rebuff them, ignore them, or treat you like a lovesick teenager," the girl huffed in exasperation, "if you want him to take you seriously then you have to take him seriously."
"But how do I do that?"
"Talk to him. But do less talking and more listening, for heaven's sake. Don't just flirt, but converse," and there was the difference, she hoped Ruby realized. A conversation should be like the waves, an ebb and flow that was smooth and long-lasting. Not like a firework sparkler, quick to light and quicker to die, "state your opinions and back them with fact. Then listen to what he has to say on the same subject. Draw out his curiosity, and be honest with him. Make your smiles, well," she shrugged, "the way you used to smile at me. The way you smile at Emma when she leaves you a big tip. Or Henry when he tells you that you're stronger than you think, or asks if you're cold all the time with what you're wearing."
They both had to laugh at that, but quickly sobered.
"I just think that he deserves to see the best side of you. And when he senses your interest, then he'll act in an honor-bound, romantic fashion."
Ruby nodded, but in resignation, "it just seems like such a long process is all."
"The young always think in terms of time," was the gentle retort, "but remember, the more time you spend getting to know one another, the more memories you'll make. Passion can come and go in a flash, but love? That's an entirely different animal, as deep and abiding as the moon's relationship with the sun. And love based on friendship means that you'll never run out of things to talk about, and you'll never stop being interested in one another. Do you understand, Ruby?"
It took a moment, but the girl finally nodded, "I think I do. Thank you. For helping me, I mean."
Granny nodded sagely, before attempting to rise. Ruby immediately came over to give her a hand, "any time. Now let's go rummage through those old boxes of mine. I have half a mind to see his face when he catches you in that dress."
The girl's only response was a wolfish grin.
~/~/~
AN: I love the idea of Ruby going to her grandmother for relationship advice. For after having dealt with rogues, crooks and perverts, gentlemen are a little foreign to her, and Granny is nothing if not a lady with class. I especially like how she's portrayed in the show. For as gruff as she seems, she really does love her granddaughter. She's just more than a little violent and protective of her, is all. ^^; So I honestly enjoyed writing up the softer side of their relationship. :)
I also like the idea of Granny being older than she looks. Ruby has to be at least twenty-one, since she can drink, which would mean that her parents were in their early to mid twenties when she was born. And if Granny had her kids when she was in her early to mid twenties, then late sixties to early seventies isn't a bad guess. My grandparents are in their late seventies, I'm twenty-five and the second-eldest child of their first-born, so this general assumption made sense to me. Don't focus too much on the specifics, though…
Besides, we all know that they didn't age for twenty-eight years anyways, so it doesn't really matter. -shrugs-
The red dress Ruby's wearing is the one Emma wears from the pilot episode, by the way. With white blouse on top. ;) I figured she would like it.
