Ruby stifled a yawn as she wiped the counter for the tenth time. It was a slow night, and getting late, but there were still a few stray customers left in the diner. She didn't want to discourage them from giving good tips, so she simply smiled at them and asked if they needed anything.

"No, thank you," some said, and she would shrug cheerfully and say, "Let me know!"

"Yes," others would say. "Could I get a—?"

"Oh, my God, it's ten-thirty, you do not need another refill!" she would say loudly, and stalk away.

She was exhausted. She hated closing, but if she didn't close tonight, she'd have to close tomorrow, and she couldn't close tomorrow because Billy had finally asked her out and she had said yes, because they were going to a concert with his friend Jason, who she was really interested in, even though he was dating the girl from the drugstore, which she didn't get at all, because the drugstore girl was so boring—

The bell tinkled as another late customer came in. Ruby groaned, tilting her head back.

The stool at the corner scraped as the customer sat down. "Rum and Coke, hold the Coke. And keep them coming," Hook said miserably. Ruby nodded and turned to pull a shot glass out. "Wait!" he said suddenly, holding up a hand. She turned, raising her eyebrows inquisitively. Hook dropped his hand. "Rum and Coke, don't hold the Coke," he sighed. "But do keep them coming."

Ruby exhaled heavily, so he would know he was doing her a great inconvenience. The first few times Hook had walked into Granny's diner, Ruby had been more than willing to pour him a drink….or five. But her enthusiasm had slowly died over time as she learned two very important things about Hook: 1) Emma had him wrapped around her little finger, and 2) drunk Hook was not necessarily fun Hook.

Working the bar, Ruby had come to learn there were several types of drinkers: happy drunks, angry drunks, and sad drunks. Happy drunks—like herself—were the best kind. They were fun, if over-affectionate, very complimentary, and tipped well. Angry drunks—such as Belle—were considerably less pleasant, spouting insults and throwing drinks and glasses when things got really bad. And then there were sad drunks. Sad drunks would sob uncontrollably at times, and shout incoherently at others. They would tell random stories that were long (oh, so very very long), but she had to stay there and listen to them, or they could very easily turn into angry drunks.

She still wasn't sure what kind of drunk Hook was. She had seen him behaving like a happy drunk before, but more than once she'd had to call Emma to haul him away in handcuffs when he started throwing darts at people. And yet, there had been plenty of times when she'd stayed up till the wee hours of the morning, listening to him spin tales of people she'd never heard of, let alone cared about.

Ruby pushed his drink toward him. "There you go," she said lightly. Hook swooped it up and drained it in one quick motion.

"Another!" he demanded, slamming the glass down.

Ruby looked sideways at the nearly empty rum bottle. Pretty soon, his rum-and-Coke was going to be…Coke. She shrugged. She didn't have to tell him that. "Coming up," she said cheerfully.

Hook drained the second as quickly as the first. "And give me another one!" he said as he slammed the glass down again.

Ruby used up the last of the rum on the fourth shot. But that didn't stop Hook from ordering a fifth…and a sixth… and a seventh…and an eighth—Christ, how long was it going to be before he realized he wasn't actually getting any drunker?

Interestingly enough, though, Hook thinking he was getting drunker was enough to make him act drunker. After his tenth shot of Coke, he started talking.

"Ruby…" he slurred. "Ruby, Ruby, Ruby…"

"Hmm?"

Hook smiled and pointed a wobbly finger at her. "I like you, Ruby."

"Yeah?" she smiled, refilling his glass. Hook closed his eyes and nodded emphatically.

"You're like….you're my favoritest person… like, ever. Like of all the people I know…you're my favorite— oh, good, more rum, I like rum, rum is good," he laughed to himself, greedily gulping down his Coke. He pushed the glass toward her. "Go on, fill 'er up."

"Another one?" she gasped mockingly. Hook was too fake-drunk to notice; he pounded the counter with his fist.

"More RUM!" he yelled, earning a few annoyed looks. Leroy glared at him from down the counter.

"Hey, Captain Covergirl," he growled, "keep it down."

Hook whirled around and launched his glass at Leroy, who ducked and fell off his stool. Fuming, he pushed himself up from the floor, folding his hand into a fist.

"You wanna go?" he challenged. "YOU WANNA GO?"

"No bar-fights," Ruby said in a bored voice, doodling on a napkin. Hook staggered off his stool, raising his hook above his head.

"I'm not afraid of you," he slurred, swaying dangerously. "I've fought many a leprechaun in the jungles of… some place or other."

"Leprechaun?" Leroy repeated angrily. "I'm a dwarf!"

"Oh, Leroy, like anybody cares," Ruby said exasperatedly. "Now both of you sit down—or I'll call Emma."

"Yes! Do that!" Hook swung around, pointing his finger at her. "Call Emma! We need Emma! I need Emma! And rum," he added thoughtfully, retaking his seat. "I also need rum."

Ruby tapped her fingers on the counter indecisively. "Okay, but you have to pay for your drinks first," she said finally. Every time Hook was escorted away in handcuffs, Ruby had to ask Emma to pay his bill, which she hated doing because Emma could get out of it by saying, "Sure, of course. By the way, Ruby, how are those parking tickets coming along?"

"Pay for my drinks?" Hook blinked several times in confusion. "But I'm pretty."

She sighed. "I know."