Tink looked over from her seat at the counter as Regina gathered her things, leaving Robin to stare worriedly out the window. She sighed heavily, and picked up her drink.

"Robin?" she said tentatively as she approached him. He looked up and smiled.

"Tink!"

"Oh—we don't have to hug," she said as he stood up. Robin's smile faded slightly, but he didn't look terribly offended as he took his seat.

"So…what can I do for you this fine day, milady?"

Tink cringed at the endearment. "Actually, Robin…" she began, but up close, she realized Robin probably had bigger worries than his outdated jargon. His smile looked strained, and he kept playing with the edge of his frayed scarf in a nervous gesture. "Never mind."

He nodded absently. "Oh—Ruby," he said, stopping the scantily clad waitress (who Tink had decided she did not care for, especially after the way she had fawned over Neal the other night). "Could I trouble you for something stronger than this?" He indicated the coffee.

Ruby knit her eyebrows together. "You mean, like, full caffeine?"

Robin's smile faded. "N-no, I…I meant, like alcohol."

"Oh…." Ruby nodded slowly.

Robin raised his eyebrows. "So…?"

Ruby blinked at him. "What?" she said. "I'm sorry, I was thinking about something else."

"Bring the man a drink," Tink said loudly. Ruby raised an eyebrow at her tone, but promised Robin she'd be back in a minute. Tink watched her go, rolling her eyes at Robin once she was out of sight. "She's such a slut."

Robin coughed, trying to hide a laugh. "Oh, Tink, that's—" he shook his head, pressing his hand to the corners of his mouth—"that's terrible."

"She is!" Tink insisted as he concentrated on not smiling. "I mean, my God, you should have seen her with Hook earlier today!" Or Neal, the other night.

"Yeah, but to be fair…" Robin shrugged.

Tink crossed her arms, frowning. "What?"

"Well—" Robin scratched the back of his head awkwardly, looking around. "I mean, it's Hook," he said in a low voice. "Do you really think he minded?"

"That's beside the point," she said, shaking her head.

"And what is the point?"

"The point is, I don't like the way she was hanging over Ne—over Hook!" For some reason, she felt reluctant to share her growing fondness for Neal with Robin. Well, maybe the reason wasn't so vague: after all, if she told Robin, he'd tell Regina; Regina would tell Emma; Emma would either laugh and tell Neal, or laugh and vow to crush Tink to pixie dust if she got within a hundred yards of her man.

Robin looked surprised. "Oh…" he said tauntingly. "Oh, I see…."

With a horrible sinking feeling, Tink realized what she'd just done: if Robin told Hook, not only would she be forced to look at his smug, smirky face incessantly, but he'd never give her a moment's peace. On top of that, Hook's ego already took up half the room; she couldn't bear to be responsible for encouraging it.

"Oh, shoot," she said, snapping her fingers. She gave Robin a tight smile. "Well, I guess you got me. So—tell you what—let's never speak of this again."

"Now, hold on," he grinned, wagging his finger. "I've never seen our little Tink behaving like a maid in spring."

Like a what in what? Tink bared her teeth in a smile, forcing a laugh. "Right. Those…crazy maids."

"I should have known," Robin went on, beaming. "Fairies are jealous little creatures, aren't they?"

"Mmm, very jealous. So, listen, if you could not tell him about this…"

"Fear not," Robin said, giving her a pompous little bow. "I would never dream of spilling a lady's secrets."

"Great," she said, letting out a relieved breath. There was an awkward silence: Robin continued to smile at her fondly while she scanned the room, desperate to change the subject. She drummed her hands on the table. "So…"

"So…" Robin grinned, then leaned forward conspiratorially. "So how long has this been going on?"

Tink shook her head slightly. "Uh…"

"Oh, come on, don't be shy," he pressed, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Hey, how's Regina?" she said suddenly. The smile slid off his face, replaced by a worried frown.

"She's having problems with Henry," he said sadly. "She wants me to find out what's going on, because he won't talk to her."

"What kind of problems?" Tink frowned. From the little time she'd spent with Henry, she'd gotten the impression that he was an annoyingly perfect child. Robin sighed.

"To me, it just sounds like he's growing up. But you know how Regina is…"

"A manipulative control freak," she nodded. Robin gave her a strange look.

"I was going to say… 'overprotective.'"

Tink froze. "…That, too."

"Anyways, she says that Emma's been having the same problems, so she knows it's not her; it's Henry." Robin frowned suddenly and twisted in his seat. "Hey, didn't I order a drink?"

They both looked toward the counter, where Ruby was giggling over a text. Tink smiled apologetically at a betrayed-looking Robin.

"I don't think you're getting that drink any time soon."

Robin tensed. "Damn, I really needed that drink," he said, clenching his jaw. He began tapping his fingers anxiously. "I could really have used that drink."

Tink raised an eyebrow. "Would…you…like…mine?"

Robin looked up. He blinked rapidly a few times, then broke into a tearful smile. "Thank you so much," he sniffed, wiping his eyes with one hand, and taking Tink's proffered drink with the other. Tink watched him awkwardly as he gulped it down.

"You seem extremely not okay," she said at last. Robin put his head in hands.

"It's Regina," he sighed. Tink's eyebrows shot up: she had been the one who set them up, after all. "Pixie dust doesn't lie," she'd insisted. "He's your soulmate." She'd spent God-knew-how-many years trying to get them together, convinced that Regina finding love again would bring light to the darkness that made its home in her heart.

"I thought things were going well."

"No…I mean, yes, they are," he said quickly, seeing Tink's stricken face. "I love Regina. I care about her, I want her to be happy. And I love Henry like my own son, I do…" He paused, gathering courage. "But she is a tad high-maintenance."

"Well…" Tink shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose. Maybe a little."

"And now she wants me to spy on Henry!" he cried exasperatedly. "I mean—that's insane, right?"

"She's just being a mother."

"And Henry's just being a teenager," Robin argued. "I…" He shook his head. "I can't do this to him. He needs a chance to breathe. That boy has been through so much, he's pulled so many people together… He deserves his own life."

Tink looked at him, thinking very hard about what she was about to do. She looked around them, then leaned forward. "All right, look," she said in a low voice, still shifting her gaze around. "I am going to write a suggestion down on a piece of paper. You are going to read that suggestion. And then you are going to eat that paper, and never speak of it to anyone ever."

Robin looked puzzled. "W-why exactly am I eating paper?"

"To destroy the evidence, of course." Tink leaned back, still sweeping her gaze around the diner as she reached into her bag, and pulled out a pen and a scrap of paper. She scratched a few words out and pushed the paper across the table. Robin frowned at it, slowly picking it up to read.

"'Lie—'"

"SHH!" Tink said furiously. She looked meaningfully at the paper, and back to Robin. Go on!

Robin looked at the paper reluctantly, pulling a face. He forced himself to put it on his tongue… He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, and chewed and swallowed, fighting his gag reflex. "Gah!" he coughed, sticking his tongue out. "Oh, God, that was horrible!"

"Yeah, I can't believe you just did that," Tink snorted. "But seriously, don't tell."