"So," Robin said, wincing against the uncomfortable metal bench.

"So," Neal replied, playing with a small hole in his scarf.

Roland let out a squeal as Little John poked his head into the entrance of the slide and did "the monster noise". They could hear him scampering back up the slide, giggling delightedly.

"So, how are you?" Robin tried again.

"Peachy. You?"

"I'm…hanging in there."

Neal looked over. Robin looked tired: there were bags under his eyes, and his face seemed drained of color. Neal had figured that was just a side effect of having a toddler, but something in his voice made Neal think that Robin was exhausted in more than one way.

"How's Regina?"

"She's…" Robin pinched his fingers to the bridge of his nose, and sighed. "She's…"

"You two aren't breaking up, are you?" Neal asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, no, no…nothing like that," Robin said, shaking his head. "But the honeymoon period can only last forever. Regina and I have been together for, what…'bout a year and a half now? Sometimes, it's just… you know."

Neal nodded slowly. Robin templed his fingers and rested them against his mouth, blowing out a slow breath.

"So, uh, how're things with Emma?"

Neal rubbed his eyes. "Nonexistent, at the moment."

Robin raised his eyebrows. "You two ended things?"

"Can't really end things when there aren't things," Neal said pointedly. "I just got tired of her stringing me along. The important thing is," he said, holding up a finger, "I see Henry. If she and Hook want to keep acting like a couple of teenagers, they're going to have to play without me, because I'm done with the love triangle bullshit."

Robin blinked a few times. "Wow," he said finally. "Sounds like someone needs to talk about their fee…" He trailed off as Neal stared at him with half-lidded eyes, daring him to keep talking. "Never mind."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching Roland scramble up the playground stairs, chased by Little John.

"So, my dad called me this morning," Neal said, breaking the silence. "He and Belle are doing a vow-renewal-thing."

"Vow renewal?" Robin repeated, creasing his forehead. "Is that the thing where you get married all over again?"

Neal shrugged. "Pretty much."

Robin tilted his head, speaking cautiously. "Isn't…isn't that sort of a waste of time?"

"Meh," Neal said. "Free cake, so I'm not complaining."

"Well, there is that," Robin agreed. "Roland loves cake."

"Roland and I have that in common."

Another awkward silence fell. Neal lolled his head back, looking at the sky. Why had he agreed to this? It wasn't like he and Robin were great friends on their own: they were only friends through Hook now. Hook had met Robin through Belle, and after an evening of reminiscing about the good old days of thieving and looting and slutting around in general, they became fast friends.

It was supposed to be the three of them that morning, and Neal had really been looking forward to venting with Hook about how entitled and spoiled Emma was…but then Hook had called and bailed on them because Belle was dragging him along for mysterious errands. Robin had half-heartedly suggested they could still hang out; Neal had half-heartedly agreed.

So here they were. In hell.

Robin coughed. "I must say, I'm surprised that you and Hook haven't killed each other yet. I mean…that was two years of that Emma rivalry." He fiddled with a string on his jacket, waiting for Neal to say something.

Honestly, he wasn't even sure how to answer. There was a lot of bad history between him and the pirate. Rumple blamed Hook for Milah leaving and making Neal grow up without a mother; then there was the incident where Hook had handed him over to the Lost Boys—not very nice at all; and of course, Hook had decided that he simply had to have the same woman Neal loved—the friggin' mother of his child, actually. And yet, even with all that, they managed to salvage a sort of friendship.

"Neal?" Robin prodded.

Neal shook himself out of his thoughts, feeling annoyed with Robin. What did he think, he was going to share his feelings and they were going to talk about them over a cup of coffee or something? "What are we, girlfriends? I'm not talking to you about this," he scoffed.

Robin shrugged. "I noticed you didn't correct me when when I said was."

Neal raised an eyebrow.

"Was…as in, past tense."

"Yeah?"

"Implying…" Robin shifted in his seat, uncomfortable under Neal's skeptical gaze. "Implying that the Emma rivalry is in the past?"

Neal stared at him. "Robin," he said carefully. "This is starting to get weird."

"Right." Robin seemed embarrassed, but Neal pressed on.

"I have no intention of talking to you about my feelings."

"'Course not."

"And I'm…kind of judging you right now."

"I got that."

"A lot, Robin. I'm judging you a lot."

"I can tell."

"Do you and Hook talk about your feelings a lot? Is this a thing I'm not a part of?"

"Well, it's come up before, but—"

"Okay, so why don't we save the feelings stuff for you and Hook?"

"Yeah, let's do that."

Another heavy silence fell. Neal tapped his fingers listlessly on the bench. Robin picked at his nails.

"Perhaps you could call—"

"Robin."

"Sorry."

There was no way he was going to call Emma. There was an unspoken agreement between him and Hook: Emma let both of them follow her around like puppy dogs, not caring that she was sabotaging the friendship they salvaged by pitting them against each other over her. Now, it was time she got what was coming to her. Let her sweat a little.

"I think," Robin said, apparently trying to change the subject, "that the, er… basketball team is doing splendidly this season, don't you?"

Neal frowned at him in confusion. "The hell are you talking about?"

Robin blinked a few times. "The basketball team?"

"What basketball team?"

"Christ, I don't know!" Robin said, throwing up his hands exasperatedly. "I don't even know what basketball is!"

"Then why are you talking about it?"

"I'm…trying to make conversation," Robin said, struggling to remain patient. "Clearly failing, but there you are."

Neal was saved the trouble of responding when his phone vibrated, alerting him to a text. He glanced down, raising an eyebrow when he saw it was from Hook:

Save me. Call my phone, so I can pretend it's an emergency.

He frowned, and typed back: Where are you?

Hell. Just call.

Neal tilted his head, considering. On the one hand, he and Hook had reached an alliance… but on the other hand, everything else. Yeah, he wasn't going to help that pretty-boy pirate, he decided, tucking his phone back in his jacket pocket. Besides, he was already having so much fun with Robin.

They watched Roland play a little bit more.

"Oh, my God, this is so boring," Neal groaned.

If you have been one of my readers anxiously awaiting Hook's dress-shopping nightmare, stay tuned: next chapter, all will be revealed.