"Morning!" Tink said loudly, bursting through the door.
Belle covered her ears, wincing at the sudden flood of light and noise. She had purposefully kept the library dark, closing all the curtains and turning the lights on low. She and Hook had truly outdone themselves at the White Rabbit yesterday.
"What are you doing here?" she grumbled, lowering her hands. Tink tossed a box on a table and swung herself up to sit on the counter. She leaned on her elbow, watching Belle put barcode stickers on new books.
"Blue—excuse me, Mother Superior—" she rolled her eyes—"needs that box of crap—sorry, books—rebound."
"Can you talk a little lower?" Belle said through gritted teeth. "I'm kind of dealing with an epic hangover here."
Tink grinned. "Yeah, I know."
Belle frowned at her. "You're not a very nice girl."
"No, I'm not," she agreed. "That's what makes me such a shitty nun."
Belle had a sudden mental picture of Tink in a nun's habit, with her hair covered by a heavy cloth veil."It just weirds me out, thinking of you as a nun," she said, shaking her head.
"Meh," she shrugged. "I'm not, really. All the other fairies are, and I'm stuck living with them 'til I find my own place, but 'nun' is really only a technical title. Well, at least… that's how I'm choosing to think of it." She blew out a breath. "So. Epic hangover, huh?"
"Yeah," Belle yawned, taking another book from her pile. "Hook's got girl trouble, so I took him out drinking—"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Tink said suddenly, holding up her hand. She looked at Belle scoldingly. "Why would you let him drink in that state?"
Belle's eyebrows rose. "Because," she said, rather defensively. "It's our thing. That's how he gets over stuff."
"No. That's how he holds onto stuff, so he can keep bitching about it, and have an excuse to get drunk off his ass," Tink said matter-of factly, flipping through a book on trains. "God, this is dull."
"What do you know about it?" Belle said, stung by Tink's dismissive criticism. "You're not on the other side of the phone every day, you're not sitting with him at Granny's every day—I am. I know how to deal with Hook, okay?"
Tink looked up, unfazed. "Well, I spent two hundred years with the guy in Neverland," she said flatly. "So, yeah, I think I know what I'm talking about. And I say, drinking is not how you deal with him." She went back to her book. "The man's an alcoholic."
Belle shifted on her heels, feeling much less certain than she had before. Something about the way Tink talked about him made her feel… distant. As if there was a lot about Hook she didn't know about, and she was suddenly painfully aware. Yesterday, he had been her best friend; at the present moment, he seemed more of a stranger than anything.
"You knew him pretty well, huh?" she said finally.
Tink looked up at the dejected tone in her voice, and offered her a sympathetic smile. "Hey, come on," she said lightly. "Don't take it personally."
"I'm not," Belle insisted, sounding like a petulant child.
"Look—" Tink hopped off the counter and started unpacking the box of books. "I know Hook is the last person you'd expect to have a type. I mean, the man'll sleep with literally whoever—whatever— will let him. " She dropped a stack of worn books on the counter, making Belle wince again. "But when it comes to… you know—" she raised her fingers in air-quotes—"besties …" She smiled apologetically.
Belle frowned. "What are you saying?"
"You're the Storybrooke me," Tink shrugged. "I'm the Neverland you."
"What?" Belle snorted. "That's ridiculous."
"Is it?" Tink said,raising an eyebrow. "Look at us. We're practically clones." She started counting off on her fingers. "Short. Cute. Heavy drinker—"
"I'm a social drinker."
Tink smiled wryly. "Okay," she said. "Social drinkers. We talk the same. We even have the same name." She dropped her hands. "Belle. Tinker Bell. Come on."
A twinge of anxiety hit her. "But…" Belle blinked rapidly. "But he's my mister-of-honor."
Tink stared at her for a moment, looking confused. "I'm sorry, what?" she said politely.
"My mister-of-honor," Belle enunciated. "It's like maid-of-honor, but it's a guy."
Tink cocked her head, her mouth open as she took a moment to digest the concept."That is….bizarre," she said finally. "I have never heard of a mister-of-honor."
Belle felt a surge of jealousy in her stomach: the longer she looked at her, the more Tink's words sunk in. For some reason, it made her angry, knowing that Hook had done the whole "unlikely friendship" thing before. But not with her; with Tink. For two hundred years. And she knew—she knew—that they probably made adorable best friends. Possibly more adorable than herself and Hook. And that was pretty fucking adorable.
Was she a replacement Tinker Bell? Was she filling a void? Belle clenched her hands into fists. Knowing that Tink had been the her in Neverland—had been the original best friend—was infuriating and heartbreaking at the same time. She didn't know who she was angrier with: Tink or Hook.
But what made her angrier still was how much it upset her. She was Belle fucking French: the most educated person in town who could pull off a mini-skirt. What was she doing, getting all bent out of shape because some lame-ass pirate hung out with some lame-ass fairy for a few lame-ass centuries? She didn't need that dumb jabroni: just because he was her best friend (and the only one tall enough to help her reach things on the top shelf), that didn't mean she needed him.
Even though she kinda did.
And sometimes, she thought privately to herself, it was kinda nice that she did.
And then Tink had to go and ruin shit.
But wait, she thought suddenly, as some of Robin's gossip floated back into her head. He had mentioned something about Tink and Hook…
Belle narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Tink, who was now sitting back on the counter. "Are you sure you're not just saying all this because you like him?"
"Because what?" Tink said absently, filing a fingernail. Belle put her hand on her hip, slitting her eyes icily at the fairy.
"Robin told me about you and Hook."
The file dropped as Tink's head snapped up in alarm. "Robin told you?"
"He most certainly did." Belle smiled in satisfaction.
"That bitch!" Tink gasped, looking outraged. "I told him not to say anything!"
"Aha!" Belle shouted triumphantly, slamming her hand on the table (and making herself wince in the process). "I knew it!"
"Oh, you don't know anything," Tink said scathingly. "I only said that because—"
The door burst open again. Belle covered her eyes and squeezed her eyes shut against the harsh sunlight.
"Sorry," Neal said, closing the door behind him. "I forgot, I'm sorry."
"Neal…" she whined, straightening up. "I told you…"
"I know, I'm sorry," he said in a loud whisper, walking to the counter. He smiled at Tink briefly. "Hey."
Tink went red. Her eyes, which had been wide and staring, now dropped to the floor and she mumbled something through a giggle. Neal raised his eyebrows, smiling bemusedly.
"All righty," he said, sounding as though he didn't quite know what to make of her. "Anyway, uh, Hook called in, so I'm stuck taking over his stuff today." He pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket. "Emma needs all these… document-things, whatever they are. Do you know where they are in here?" He looked around the library, as if hoping see signs pointing him in the right direction.
"Mmm… I probably have them in one of the file cabinets," Belle said, squinting at the list. "Let me look."
Neal nodded, and leaned against the counter next to Tink. "So, how are your wedding plans coming along?" he asked as she unlocked one of the cabinets.
"Vow renewal."
"Sorry. How are your vow renewal plans coming along?" She could hear him rolling his eyes.
"Pretty good," she said, flipping through manilla folders. "Actually, too good."
"Too good?" Neal repeated. "God, I wish I had your problems."
"No, see—" Belle paused in her search to explain, sighing. "I got all excited when Rumple gave me the go-ahead to start planning, and I made all these lists and diagrams and shit… And I don't need half of them, I'm realizing."
"Oh…" Neal nodded slowly, then made a face and shook his head. "No, I don't get it."
Tink laughed hysterically. Belle and Neal looked at her, and exchanged a bemused look before Belle went back to explaining.
"You know how I love organizing and planning and all that?" Belle said. Neal nodded; he was more than familiar with Belle's love for administrating everything (last Christmas dinner was still a sensitive issue, during which some strong words were used when Belle's specific schedule was less than strictly adhered to). "Well, I thought this vow renewal would be a gold mine for that. And it's…" She struggled, shaking her head. "I don't know. Too easy? Everything's falling into place perfectly." She shrugged. "I kinda wanted to be a bridezilla."
Neal carefully looked down at the ground, but that didn't stop her from noticing him trying to fight a smile. "So, when is it?" he asked, clearly holding back laughter.
"Why are you laughing?" she demanded.
"I'm not laughing!" he said, even as a laugh escaped him.
"Neal," she whined again, tilting her head. "Why are you laughing?"
"I don't know," he grinned, shrugging slightly. "I've never heard of anyone aspiring to be a bridezilla. Or having a mister-of-honor," he added. "That's weird."
"Agree to disagree," Belle said, going back to her folders. "Anyway, I'm planning on the week before Thanksgiving."
"The week before Thanksgiving?" Neal's eyebrows flew up. "That's in a few weeks. Do you even have time?"
"Like I said, everything's being annoyingly easy," Belle grumbled, pulling some files out. "It's hardly any fun at all. Oh, Tink—that reminds me. I need you to come with me to pick out a dress."
Tink said something unintelligible, tripping over giggles and covering her face in her hands. Neal smiled at her in a puzzled sort of way.
"Doing all right?" he asked kindly. Tink nodded, her hands still squeezed against her face. He looked over at Belle, who was staring at Tink with the same perplexity. What the hell? he mouthed.
I have no idea, she mouthed back, shaking her head. Tink had progressed to trembling now: actually, she looked a little ill.
Neal cleared his throat. "So, how about those files?"
"Yeah, here," Belle said, stacking them up and handing them to him. He accepted them with a smile and a quiet, "Thanks" before easing the door open and closing it behind him, this time trying to be a little more considerate of her hangover. Belle watched him go, the smile fading off her face as he faded from sight.
"Oh, my God," Tink said heavily, still flushed. "Goddamn."
Belle looked over in surprise. "Sorry?"
"He is so hot," Tink said, nearly growling. "I mean… I just wanna—"
"WHOA," Belle said loudly, holding up a hand. "He is my stepson, all right? I don't want to hear anything—"
"But he's so fucking hot," Tink insisted, her eyes wild. Belle's eyebrows jumped.
"Tink," she said warningly. "Don't. Please."
Tink walked around in a circle a few times, fanning herself; Belle eyed her warily, wondering if Robin knew just how wrong he was yet.
"I can't take it!" Tink said suddenly, throwing her arms up. She looked at Belle, still fanning herself, before whispering, "God. Damn."
Belle stared at her with wide eyes, feeling immensely disturbed. "You really are a shitty nun, you know?"
So, remember what I said about the Red Vow Renewal coming soon? It may take a few more chapters, but it will be a HUGE one. I may have to slip it into parts.
Also, I wanted to say real quick: if this seems to be giving Hook more spotlight than other characters, i swear I'm not trying to...I want to give everyone a fair amount. I'm just having a lot of fun writing him this way, so it happens. But if you're enjoying all the Hook-ness, i'm glad. Just throwing that out there.
Okay, stay awesome.