Hook hummed to himself as he skimmed the page in front of him. It had been difficult at first, trying to flip through the books: he'd had to hold the book down with his entire left arm and painstakingly run his finger through the stack of pages until just one tiny sheet of paper rested on top of it. The especially tricky part was persuading it to flip over without falling back into the stack of pages behind; it was too easy for a little breeze to dismantle all his efforts.

But, he'd figured out a much more efficient system.

"Turn!" he said. Belle closed her eyes impatiently, and flipped the page for him. He smiled at her. "Thank you, darling."

"Don't call me 'darling'," she frowned, concentrating on her notes. Hook raised his eyebrows at her tone.

"Someone needs a Midol," he said under his breath. Belle slowly raised her eyes and turned her head.

"What did you say?" she said, her voice low and venomous.

"I said—" he cleared his throat—"someone needs a Midol."

She narrowed her eyes, a look of pure loathing radiating from them. She didn't say anything. Hook raised an eyebrow.

"Do you know what a Midol is?" he said cautiously.

She fumed, breathing rapidly. Why was she so angry?

"It's okay, if you don't," he said kindly. "I'm still pretty new to this world, too. I really only know because Emma told me. See, a Midol is a magical remedy for a woman's uncharacteristic…." he searched for a word more polite than "bitchiness".

"I know what a Midol is." Belle turned back to her book, muttering what he suspected were rude suggestions under her breath.

Hook turned back to his book and cleared his throat. "'Munchkins are peaceful folk, usually dwelling in groups of twenty to thirty. The most heavily populated Munchkin towns lie farther away from the Emerald City, in the South. They tend to gather near open fields, as their livelihood mainly comes from agriculture. However, there have been known to be several successful groups of sea-faring Munchkins.'" He looked over at Belle. "Does any of that seem helpful?"

"Not really," she said testily. "Could you read in your head?"

"It's just…I don't know what's going to be helpful and what isn't," he said frustratedly. "I feel like I should be double-checking."

He jumped at the sound of her phone buzzing. And again at the sound of his phone buzzing. Belle glanced at hers and looked over at Hook, who was still staring curiously at the the flashing screen. He looked up.

"I, uh, I still don't know how to do this," he said, gesturing at Henry's old flip-phone. Belle slowly picked it up and flipped it open before handing it back to him. Hook blinked in surprise. "HELLO?" he said loudly into the phone. "THIS IS HOOK."

"Okay, okay, calm…down," Belle said, clearly trying to be patient. "One—I already told you, you can talk normally into a phone. You don't have to shout. And two—it's a text, not a call."

"A what, not a what?"

"A text. You read it." She pointed to the tiny letters on the screen. "See?"

He squinted. "Why isn't it talking, though?"

"Because," Belle said through clenched teeth, "it's a text. You read it."

Hook raised his eyebrows. "You sure you don't want that Midol?" he muttered, looking back at the text.

The words were insanely small, and his eyes still weren't used to the strange computer fonts, so he had to labor over the task of reading it. He could feel Belle's eyes on him, knowing she was wondering exactly how literate he was.

"So, they found Zelena," he said at last, setting the phone down. Little lights danced in his vision field, the familiar effect of staring at electronic screens. Belle nodded.

"Yep."

"And she's in a cell at the station." He glanced down at the still-obnoxiously-glowing screen.

"Mmm-hmm."

"But Henry still doesn't have his memories back." The phone seemed to mock him.

"Nope."

They looked at each other, the phone's light still illuminating both their faces. Hook looked at it meaningfully. Belle glanced down, then raised her eyes slowly.

"Can you make it stop?" he said finally, shoving the phone toward Belle. "The little light won't go off, it's burning my eyes."

Belle looked down at the phone, back up at him, and slowly flipped it closed. The light turned off. "There you go," she said quietly, pushing the phone back toward him.

Hook awkwardly drummed his fingers on the table. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

Hook slowly turned back to his book. A few silent, tense moments passed.

"Turn."