Saturday couldn't come fast enough. Ruby spent the rest of her week reflecting on what she had done that morning, and how daring it was of her. She had no qualms about asking guys out, but Mr. Gold wasn't just any guy, and she found herself particularly distracted in the mornings, half-expecting to wake up from another troubling dream, or getting worked up before going to the diner, actually arriving in advance, some small (rather masochistic) part of her excited in anticipation of finding him there.

But it appeared that he had no plans to see her before their rendezvous, or date, or whatever it was, seemingly quite determined to keep her waiting. She couldn't help but feel it was intentional.

She had half a mind to call the whole thing off on more than a few occasions, her mood swinging from ecstatic to abhorrent in the span of less than an hour, and sometimes changing several shades a minute. It was just a dinner, she had to remind herself, not an open invitation for whatever that could happen between a willing man and woman.

He seemed surprised when she made the suggestion, and showed no indication that he had ever considered an outing with her (or anyone else for that matter). It was almost like he found it unthinkable. And that was really odd. He never gave off the impression of a man with low self esteem; quite the opposite, but her invitation had genuinely surprised him. Still, he accepted it, and even though it should be the other way around, Ruby felt grateful. This was new to him, and she relished the fact that this might be the perfect opportunity to get close enough to the man to satisfy her curiosity.

After the morning shift on Saturday, Ruby very nearly ran to the B&B, flung the door of her room wide open and stopped. She had about three hours to get ready, and she'd make damn sure that every little detail was perfect. The situation called for a quick shower, washing her hair and shaving her legs – that was last on her list (that way the smoothness would last longer). Instantly glad that she had picked her outfit the day before, for choosing it now, in this frantic state, would have consumed most of her time, and also alerted Granny to the fact that it was a really big date – which she had no business knowing - she exhaled, trying to suppress a sudden bout of nervousness.

She applied a rather generous portion of her favorite wild berry body wash on her red loofa, enjoying the smell of the tangy-scented foam as it spread over her skin. No matter how enjoyable this was, she reminded herself that there was no time to waste – she still needed to wash her hair, use a peeling cream on her legs, and file her nails… So much to do, so little time!

An hour later, most of it was done and she was drying her hair, the blow dryer buzzing loudly in the confines of the narrow bathroom. Today she'd go for a deceptively simple hairstyle, flattening her hair into submission with the searing heat of her straightener. Men never seemed to notice that hair like that was a result of hours of toiling in front of the mirror and did not magically exist on its own, by some blessing or genetic fluke. Well, she didn't need him to notice the effort; it would actually be better if he just assumed what most men did, it would save her the trouble of explaining the need to look better than usual for him.

"Not him, bird-brain, you're doing this for you." Ruby reminded herself sternly.

Nope, she definitely didn't need him to notice, as long as it made her look like the best fucking thing he had ever seen in his entire life. Yes, that would do.

Once her hair was sufficiently subdued and lying obediently flat, it was time for make-up.

Smoky eyes would do the trick, a darker shade than usual, to make her irises stand out more, a maroon color melding into black on the fringes, curling upwards to meet the lower edge of her eyebrows. No black eyeliner this time, just a thick layer of kohl on the lower eyelid, and a generous coating of her darkest mascara. Careful to curl her lashes as best she could, she went slowly – big eyelashes, or rather, big eyes in general, drove men crazy. Gold better like this; kohl was a bitch to acquire (some nonsense about health regulations and lead content). Hey, if it worked for ancient Egyptians all those thousands of years ago, it sure as hell worked for her. Plus, she really liked natural make-up; there was something more satisfying about it than the chemically mixed variety – that kind she avoided mostly because it had been tested on animals. She had tried ordering kohl online at first, but the package got lost in the mail.

Three times.

She concluded that USPS workers were either geographically challenged or Storybrooke was somehow cursed… Nah, idiot workers made more sense. In the end, she managed to wink and nudge and smile the town's pharmacist into whipping some up for her and it was well worth the effort. She just hoped he hadn't sneezed in it while he was making it; while lead content was fine with her, his germs – not so much.

Ruby looked at her reflection and whistled in appreciation. The make-up made her look like a vixen – can't go wrong with that!

She filed her nails short and coated them with several layers of venetian red nail polish. This would go well with the color of the dress she picked out.

It was a mini-dress, cut generously low and revealing more than enough of her breasts to leave men salivating in her wake, and yet still covering just enough to leave a little something to the imagination.

She was particularly proud of her choice of stockings, sheer black thigh-highs ending with a rich strip of crimson lace – they hugged her legs wonderfully, outlining their perfect shape. The thought of hiding her killer legs with a long dress wasn't just inconceivable, it was downright criminal. Showing them off wasn't immodest, merely common sense – why hide her attributes? There was plenty left over that was still concealed, after all.

Now, about jewelry… She couldn't wear anything silver, since it seemed to have an adverse reaction to her skin, turning black and useless upon prolonged exposure (she could never get it to shine again). It was bizarre, but she never delved too deep into it; it was probably just a weird allergy or something. This just meant that she had to buy stuff that wasn't made from it, like plastic for instance, or other metals, precious or not - mostly not; who had money for fancy jewelry? She settled on little golden studs encrusted with a bead of red coral – this was the only expensive piece of jewelry that she owned. The earrings weren't as flashy as what she usually wore, but she concluded that she was already flashy enough in her dress and red, five-inch heels.

With a self-satisfied smirk, she noticed that she would tower over Mr. Gold, and wondered how he would react to being dwarfed by his date (most men had a bit of a height complex – preferred girls shorter than them), but she had absolutely no intention of wearing flats just to make him feel better about being vertically challenged. Let's see how he copes with it!

A part of her really wanted him to hate her for it; then she could stash him back into the "asshole" box in her brain's filing system and be done with him, this dinner nothing more than a failed social experiment to be swept under the rug with the rest of her doomed relationships and sucky first dates.

Now, she would normally keep her assortment of plastic red bracelets, but they sort of made this dress look cheap, and that was the last thing she wanted - Gold would no doubt be dressed to impress, in one of his finest suits, and looking tarty next to him was not an option.

To be fair, her outfit was already sufficiently provocative, but instead of cheap and sleazy, she could make it, at the very least, elegant. She settled for a huge, sparkly red ring on the middle finger of her left hand; it was eye-catching enough for her to not need add anything to the ensemble.

She did a twirl in front of the mirror and grinned. It was perfect! All that was left now was a spritz of her favorite perfume (Burberry – Weekend) and she was ready to go!

A quick glance at her cell revealed that it was quarter to eight, which left her just enough time to apply lipstick and pack her purse with all the necessities – keys, cell, make-up and wet tissues… Oh, also her wallet (not that she expected to be paying for anything, but with Gold, one could never be sure; she half-expected the man to go Dutch). Better safe than sorry.

She took her long, black winter coat, the one she usually avoided, because it was actually freezing outside and catching a cold now would make her unable to work in the diner and give Granny her coronary number two. It also wouldn't help her heart any if she saw her choice of wardrobe and started asking questions about her date for the evening (not that Ruby would give her an honest answer anyways) and last, but not least, because unbuttoning it would be a nice surprise for Mr. Gold. Hell, she'd be surprised if the man's jaw was still attached to his head once all the buttons were pried loose.

After she was done buttoning, she stuffed her red hat into the deep pocket of her coat and headed down the stairs, careful not to trip and break her neck when she was so close to unraveling the biggest mystery this town had to offer.

She locked the door behind her - it's not like anyone ever came to rent a room anyways - and set down the path to where she told him to come pick her up. It was now 8 p.m. sharp, and she could hear the roaring of a car engine as it drove into view; she assumed it was Mr. Gold. The huge black Cadillac came to a full stop next to her, and the passenger door flung open from the inside.

"Good evening, my dear."

Oh, it was him, all right. The endearment and the accent gave it away.

She ducked and got in next to him with a grin: "I thought you would get out of the car and hold the door for me. What, your knee acting up again?" She teased.

Gold gave her an amused look and replied in a mock-serious tone: "I would have done that if my companion had been fashionably late, as ladies tend to be, but alas, I had the misfortune of meeting a punctual woman, for once."

Ruby grinned at that and shut the door once she was settled in the seat. She buckled up and gave him a quick glance as he sped off, already putting distance between them and the inn. It seemed like he had the same idea as her, because his coat was covering the - no doubt amazing suit underneath it, an anthracite gray scarf draped lazily around his neck in a way that didn't allow her to even catch a glimpse of his tie!

This made her squint at him, grumbling slightly.

"What's wrong, dear?"

"Nothing." She lied, trying to sound nonchalant.

He said nothing, but she could see a flicker of a smile dancing in the corner of his lips. Suddenly, she wondered if distracting him would get the car stuck in a ditch.

Ok, dying was a bit too steep a price to see him shocked.

Maybe later.

"Where are we going?" She asked, wondering if he would maybe take her to his house for dinner. It was possible; it's not like he was known for going out, but then again… His residence was a frickin' myth; nobody ever saw the inside of it, and she doubted that he'd break the tradition for her sake.

"To the only half-decent restaurant Storybrooke has to offer."

"Remy's?" Ruby asked, a look between bewilderment and appreciation flashing across her face.

"The very same." Gold nodded.

"I'm warning you in advance, I'm not eating snails." Ruby narrowed her eyes at him.

Gold chuckled at that, actually going as far as closing his eyes and tossing his head back, taking his eyes off the road for several seconds. She found that driving into a ditch over a joke would be even less satisfying than the previous alternative.

"I won't make you order escargot if you don't want to." He flashed her a toothy grin.

Ruby seemed taken aback at this new information: "You know French?" she asked, her eyebrow arched at the perfectly pronounced term.

"The florist?" He grinned, his eyes lit mischievously.

She gave him a look smack in the middle of "you went there, really?" and "bitch please".

He merely laughed at her expression and replied: "No, no, I don't."

Oh, now she was in the mood to pay him back, and had just the right comeback at the ready: "You don't know Moe French? My, my… I thought you were better informed than that." She snickered.

The way his eyes swerved to her slowly, his mouth slightly agape in what could have been described as mild shock or disbelief, made her grin victoriously on the inside. She waited for an answer but got no verbal one, just a little shake of his head – the way a doting parent would react to his favorite performing some minor act of mischief. It was fairly amusing, she had to admit.

It was hot in the car and she realized that it would be a good idea to unbutton her coat before she began to perspire; no matter how attracted to sweaty women guys seemed to be, she didn't find the prospect appealing at all. The buttons around her neck were the first to go, and she stopped as it reached her cleavage – no point in showing everything. What did he call it all that time ago… Tit for tat? Well, he better reciprocate.

Ok, that was ridiculous. He was driving, for heaven's sake; it's not like he could start undressing all of a sudden and leave the wheel unattended. Also, he had no idea that she wanted to see him lose that expensive-looking coat of his. All for the best, she concluded.

She tried to cross her legs, but suddenly realized that the stupid coat was terribly constricting because she managed to sit in such a way that the fabric folded under her ass. Untangling it now would make her feel awkward. Fidgeting too much would ruin the impression she was trying to make (sexy and childish didn't go well together, at least not in her book, crazy Lolita fetishists be damned). Besides, the age difference was huge already; she didn't need to make it worse. But then, as the thought crossed her mind, Ruby frowned at herself. The whole age thing mattered to other people, not her. The only people whose opinion she valued were Mary Margaret (because she was a kind and supportive person), Ashley (because she was a sweetie, even though she was prone to depression sometimes), and her granny, whom she didn't want to see upset. That was pretty much it.

Ok, the lower buttons needed to go, or she would be stumbling unceremoniously out of the Cadillac once they arrived at their destination, her legs stiff and asleep. She noticed he was glancing her way every couple of seconds, probably amused by the sight and wondering how many buttons it would take to finally reveal the length of her dress.

Four.

There was a compliment carefully hidden in the depths of his dark brown eyes, but he didn't bother verbalizing it. Ah well, the twinkle in his eye and the spark of a grin were enough for her. At least for now.

It seemed that he wouldn't be starting a conversation anytime soon, so she searched for an appropriate thing to say.

"Nice set of wheels you got here, Mr. Gold." She nodded in appreciation, eyeing the luxurious interior, burgundy leather seats in particular. They actually looked a bit out of place, more like fancy armchairs than car seats. In front of her were exquisitely designed wood panels, polished to perfection.

"It gets me from point A to point B, I suppose…" He shrugged it off like it was no big deal. Ruby cast him an incredulous look and couldn't help but comment:

"You, trying to be modest… only makes you sound more shameless." She grinned, her eyebrows quirked upwards.

Gold smirked at that, and gave her a curious glance: "I'm not the one wearing the mini-skirt here, dearie."

It was Ruby's turn to snicker and she replied: "Maybe you should get some glasses; it's not a skirt…"

Gold exhaled sharply, suppressing laughter no doubt, and looked at her sultrily (at least that's what it looked like in the dim light).

"Maybe you should undo a couple more buttons so I could see, hmm?"

Ruby tore her gaze away, her cheeks feeling uncomfortably warm in an instant. Of course he had no way of knowing what she wore, there were still a couple of strategic buttons hiding the entirety of her dress from sight and it wasn't like he had x-ray vision!

"I swear I'm coming down with foot-in-mouth disease…"

Instead of staying embarrassed, she decided to get back on track – tonight they were equals; she was no longer a sassy waitress serving him, and he wasn't a snarky loan shark (ok, fine, he was, but still…), so it was about damn time to start acting like his intellectual match.

"There will be time for that…" She grinned and licked her lips provocatively.

Sadly, his expression was impossible to read – on the surface, she could see some measure of amusement or approval, but beyond that, his face was inscrutable. Such a shame. Ah well, she could very well take her own advice and wait for the end of this evening. They had time.

The Cadillac came to a sudden halt and she noticed that Gold had just parked it in front of the restaurant.

Time to get this show on the road!

This time she waited patiently for him to turn off the engine and clamber out of the car, wondering if he'd be a gentleman this time around. Sure enough, he walked from his side to hers, her eyes following him every step of the way. Once her door was open, he held it for her as Ruby's slender legs found their way to the pavement. He offered no comments, but she could read that appraising look in his eyes as they measured her. They were definitely off to a good start.

Gold offered his gloved hand (he'd been driving in them) and she took it gracefully, a wide smile stretching on her face once she managed to safely untangle herself from the seat and stand upright. Oh, but this was priceless! He was actually forced to look up at her (which only made her straighten her back more), but he didn't seem to mind, at least not on the outside. By this point, she was well aware that he was more than capable of concealing his feelings completely, so this apparent indifference meant nothing.

He gave the door a slight, nearly delicate push and it closed shut. For someone who supposedly didn't care at all about the car he drove, he was surprisingly considerate. But then again, by the state of the interior, she could guess that he was the kind of man who took good care of his possessions.

"No, no, no… I won't even go there."

Once the disconcerting images dissipated from her brain, she shook her head slightly and turned her attention back to Mr. Gold. With the way his gaze traveled towards the entrance to the restaurant, she was urged to take a step forward, falling in easy stride with her companion. He actually walked faster than she would have originally given him credit for, but it wasn't like she could run in five-inch heels either.

When they got to the doors, he held these for her as well, motioning with a sweep of his arm, a clear gesture of "ladies first". He didn't even have to say it; it was self-explanatory.

She gave him a benevolent smile and stepped into the dimly lit restaurant.

A/N: Ok, this chapter was initially supposed to be all about the date, but it ended up being whooping 27 pages long, and I was forced to break it up for the sake of the sanity of my poor, overworked beta... I cannot promise an update next week, since the chapter is HUGE, but I can offer a small consolation: the story is finished! The last chapter, as well as the epilogue await editing, and you can rest easy - I am not abandoning this story, the updates will suffer for the sake of quality, but I hope you'll have a lot of fun once you get to read the rest! I had a blast writing out the dinner itself!

See you all soon, love to all of you for your continued support and kind words! Hugs for everyone! :D