So, this is only the first half of the Thanksgiving argument, but it's pretty intense. Review, let me know of other issues you want me to bring up in the next half, comment in general-all feedback is appreciated!

A typical Thanksgiving for Henry had been dinner with Regina, like any other night, but with a few fancier courses. Over the past couple years, as his family tree had grown, the holiday had developed into a loud, lively day, filled with Regina's gourmet food next to Emma's extremely-not-gourmet food, standing close to David's latest culinary experiments. As more people were added to the guest list (Neal, Hook, Robin and Roland), the dinners passed "lively" and reached "argumentative"; and then last year, when Rumple and Belle had been invited for the first time, it escalated into "shouting matches", "plate throwing" and "tearful".

From the way things were going, this year was going to reach an exciting new level: they might even make it to "requiring intensive physical and emotional therapy".

Tink was not helping the situation in the slightest. She had burst into the kitchen, just as Henry was helping Graham take the turkey out of the over, and yelled out, "Well, if it isn't Professor Sexy!"

Things had gotten progressively worse: Tink had said a number of things of increasing suggestiveness as they had carried plates out to the table, seated everyone, double-checked that everyone had enough napkins—David even tried to saying grace to shut her up, but Tink had talked right through that.

Hook had finally forced a forkful of potatoes in her mouth, giving them all a reprieve from her embarrassingly whorish, drunken speech—an act that earned him a small round of applause from Robin, Regina, and Whale. Unfortunately, that hadn't eased the tension: there was still Emma and Neal staring daggers at each other; then there was Ruby, flirting shamelessly, sitting next to Graham; Hook eyeing the wine bottle, trying to fight the urge; Robin looking curiously between Regina and Graham; and of course, Roland had insisted on sitting next to Henry, so it didn't help that every so often, Henry had to wipe mashed potatoes off his face.

Henry wasn't really listening to the forced small talk; he was still trying to wrap his head around his parents' argument. He had never heard the full story, mostly because Emma and Neal had agreed that "the past was the past" and there was no use resenting anyone for it: apparently, they lied, because there seemed to be plenty of lingering resentment. Henry wasn't sure if it was a good thing because they were finally addressing their issues, or a bad thing because now they were fighting.

"More turkey, Henry?" Graham asked politely, making him look up.

"Um…no. No, thanks." Henry smiled tightly, trying to ignore Ruby's hand dancing dangerously close to Graham's.

"I wouldn't mind some more turkey, Professor," Tink said, raising an eyebrow slyly. Graham grimaced.

"Help yourself."

"Actually, changed my mind. I'd like some more wine. Care to join me, Professor?"

"No, thank you."

"What about you, Hook?" Tink said, turning to her left. "You look like you could use a drink. Use a Tink." She threw back her head, laughing: clearly a happy drunk.

"I'd rather not," Hook said, looking faintly ill as his eyes followed Ruby's movements.

"There's a first," Granny snorted.

"Granny," Ruby said warningly, giving her a stern look.

"Oh, that's all right, love, you don't have to defend me," Hook said, smiling bitterly. "You've got your hands full."

"Wouldn't mind having my hands full," Tink said into her wine glass as Ruby turned her glare to Hook.

"Stay out of it, Hook."

"Oh, right, I'm intruding again," Hook said, giving her a meaningful look. "That's me, always intruding."

"Yes, you are," Ruby said, giving him an icy smile. "Maybe you should stop."

"Maybe you should take a hint," he shrugged.

"Maybe you should," Ruby said, her voice raising slightly. "In fact, maybe you should leave, if you're going to make things awkward for everyone."

Hook raised his eyebrows coolly. "Awkward for everyone, or awkward for you and your pathetic attempts to seduce Graham in front of everyone?"

"More wine?" Graham said quickly, reaching for the bottle.

"Yes, please," Tink said greedily, holding out her glass. "A few more rounds of this stuff, I might even get brave enough to spare Gorgeous McSexy over there a few words." She winked at Neal, who now looked deeply uncomfortable. Henry sympathized wholeheartedly: the last thing he needed right now was to hear drunk Tink hitting on his dad. It was bad enough when Hook hit on Emma, but at least there was an understanding that it was more customary than meaningful—there was no such understanding here.

"Thank you, Professor," Tink said, leaning forward to take the proffered bottle from Graham. "And may I say, you fill out the sweater vest quite nicely."

"You have said," Ruby said acidly. "A lot."

"Have I?" Tink smiled at Graham roguishly. "Oh, well, I guess you better up the stakes. Shall we uncover the mystery that lies beneath the sweater vest?"

"Oh, my God," Graham muttered, covering his eyes.

"Careful, Tink. Don't want Ruby getting jealous," Hook said, staring daggers at Ruby. "We all know how she feels about jealousy, wouldn't want to get her upset and break up with everybody."

"Pass the salt," David interrupted before Ruby could retort, holding out his hand.

Henry glanced around for the saltshaker. "Oh, Dad—it's right there, next to your hand," he said to Neal, pointing. "Could you just hand that to Grandpa?"

"Yeah, come on, Neal," Emma said, glowering at him. "Don't leave him hanging—you know, like how you did with me and the watches."

Neal tossed his fork down. "I'm sorry, David," he said jerkily, shoving the salt at him. "Do you think you can ever forgive me? Or are you going to hold it over my head for the rest of my life, so you can feel like a saint compared to me, no matter what you do?"

"I'll forgive you," David said quietly, taking the salt.

"I'd forgive you, too," Tink said slyly, grinning around her wine glass. "You, too, Professor Sexy. And you, too, Captain Sexy. And you, too, Dr. Sexy. But Robin, you're spoken for, and David, you're married and sitting next your wifey, so I think it wouldn't be appropriate for me to forgive you."

"First time I ever heard her worry about 'appropriate'," Rumple remarked.

"Speaking of appropriate," Hook said, clearing his throat. "Ruby, would you mind very much containing your drool in the little bowl next to you? You're going to ruin the tablecloth."

Ruby leaned forward, squinting. "That's funny," she said slowly. "I always thought your eyes were blue, but they actually look a little green right now…Oh!" She snapped her fingers, clicking her teeth. "Must be the jealousy."

"Well, I think it's cute that he's jealous," Emma interjected, giving Neal a frosty smile. "See, he's keeping tabs on her. He's not just up and leaving, he's sticking around to look out for her."

"Yes," Neal said, smiling back tightly. "It is nice. Although, it might be nicer of him to be unselfish enough to let her go, since she could have an even greater life that exists without him."

"Fair point," Emma said through clenched teeth. "But let's double-check. Anyone seen Pinocchio around?"

"And some more wine!" Graham said with forced enthusiasm, reaching for the bottle again. "Neal? Emma?"

"And me, " Tink chimed in, swaying in her seat. "Fill 'er up, Professor Sexy!"

"Please stop calling me that," Graham said through clenched teeth.

"Doesn't matter what I call you, you're still going to be sexy."

"Can we go back to 'appropriate'?" David said, a pleading note in his voice.

"I don't see that happening," Tink grinned. She looked at Hook, elbowing him. "What about you? Do you see that happening, Mr. Bedroom Eyes?"

"Get off," Hook complained, jerking away from her.

"Ooh, someone's in a bad mood," she said, raising her eyebrows. "Maybe you should have some more wine, loosen up."

"Oh, good, more alcohol. That's exactly what he needs," Ruby said witheringly.

"Maybe Graham could use some more," Hook shot back. "He's going to need to self-medicate after the way you're manhandling him."

"I'm fine," Graham said quickly. "Thank you for your concern, but I'm fine."

"Oh, I agree," Tink said with relish. "You are fine as a glass of wine. Speaking of…can I offer you some more wine, Professor? You know alcohol can lead to some interesting circumstances—"

"Let's change the subject!" Robin said loudly. "Shall we change the subject? Let's change the subject. Henry, how's school?"

"Um…it's—it's okay," Henry said, startled at suddenly being included in the conversation. "Thanks for asking."

"What are you studying in school?" Graham asked, clinging to the subject change like a life preserver. "Anything interesting?"

"Not really. I mean, biology's kind of cool, but—"

"Biology…The study of living things." Tink gave Graham a significant look over the top of her glass. "What do you think, Professor? Want to study this living thing?"

"No, actually. I don't," Graham said through clenched teeth.

"What about you, Gorgeous McSexy? How about after this, you and me head over to my place?" Tink slurred, pointing her wine glass at Neal.

"How about, no?"

"Okay, your place, then. I'm flexible." Tink leaned forward, winking. "Extremely, I might add."

"Again…no." Neal scooted his chair as far away from her as he could manage.

Tink blew out a breath, turning in her seat to give Hook a considering look. He glanced back at her warily.

"What?"

"What are you doing tonight?" she frowned.

He closed his eyes, clenching his teeth. "Not. You."

"Oh, really?" Tink said, unperturbed, rummaging in her purse. "Well, I think—" she fluttered a bill through her fingers—"Mr. Jackson can change your mind."

"I'm not a prostitute!" Hook said indignantly. "And if I were, I can assure you, I'd be a lot more expensive than twenty bucks!"

"Aha!" Tink said wisely. "So, there is a price, it's just a matter of haggling."

"You depraved little psycho, get away from me!"

"Oh, my God, Tink, are you kidding me?" Belle said in disbelief. "Are you that desperate? You can't go one week without getting any? How the hell did you survive two hundred years in Neverland?"

"Oh, there were…." Tina's eyes gleamed, flickering to Hook. "Opportunities."

Belle's eyes widened. "You mean—?"

"Hey!" Hook barked. "What happens in Neverland, stays in Neverland!"

"Oh, Neverland," Neal said mockingly over everyone's gasps, turning to Emma with wide eyes. "Remember Neverland, Emma?"

Emma slit her eyes at him. "I remember."

"Remember how I was hanging over the portal after being shot?"

"Yes."

"Remember how you let go of my hand, to let me plummet to my death?"

"Because you asked me to, for Henry's sake, yes."

"Interesting, isn't it? Being unselfish enough to let go of someone—"

"That is not the same thing, and you damn well know it!"

"It's close enough!" Neal retorted angrily. "Not to mention the fact that there's plenty of things I could be mad at you about and hold over your head, but don't!"

"What are you talking about?" Emma said incredulously. "I've never done anything to you! What are you, some kind of escaped mental patient?"

"Oh, you didn't do anything to me?"

"Nope."

"Not a single thing?"

"Not a thing."

Neal stared at her incredulously. "You told me in the Echo Caves that you'd been hoping I was dead."

"You what?" Snow gasped as everyone's head whipped toward Emma.

"You are taking that way out of context!" she sputtered. "That was a cheap shot!"

"Well, that's okay—I've got more!" Neal snapped. "How about, you didn't even wait a week after I fell through a portal to my death before you started making out with Hook?"

"Well, hang on! Don't drag me into this!" Hook said over Henry's coughing and gagging.

"You were dead! I was moving on!" Emma shouted. "You've heard of moving on, Neal! Remember Tamara? Your fiance?"

"That's not fair," Neal growled. "That was ten years after you, okay? Ten. Whole. Years. And she was a fucking psychopath working for another fucking psychopath who manipulated us all in his weird, creepy, twisted magic mafia! You're not seriously still upset about that?"

"Yes, of course, I'm still upset!" Emma said furiously, throwing up her hands. "You left me, and then you moved on and got engaged to someone else—"

"Yeah, ten years later!" Neal shouted back. "What about you? I got shot, fell through a portal, nearly died—how long did it take you to start shoving your tongue down Hook's throat?"

"Hey!" Hook said, affronted. "I told you, don't drag me into this!"

"There is a difference between forming a complete meaningful relationship with a person, planning to marry them, planning to build a life with them—and a meaningless kiss!" Emma shouted back.

"Meaningless. Brilliant, thanks for that," Hook said, rolling his eyes.

"Are you talking about me and Tamara versus you and Hook, or me and you versus you and Graham?"

Emma's eyes widened furiously. "Neal, so help me God, I do not need this right now!"

"What is going on?" Henry wailed, throwing his head in his hands. "I am going to walk out of here even more fucked up than I was to begin with!"

"I'm sorry, Henry," Emma said through clenched teeth, making him look up helplessly. "Maybe if your father hadn't fucked everything up to being with, none of us would be this fucked up."

"Oh…" Neal breathed, staring at her in disbelief. "You did not just blame me for that, you did not just blame me for that!"

"Oh, I think I did," she said icily.

"Really? Well, this may have escaped your notice, Emma, but I didn't draw up a series of evil plans to orchestrate all the evil karma in the world just to fuck up this entire family!"

"I'm not blaming you for fucking up them! I'm blaming you for fucking up us! Me! Henry! You and me! This was your fault! You fucked up everything when you decided to skip off to Canada and leave me, alone and pregnant, taking the fall for your stupid fucking stolen watches!"

"Can you never say the word 'pregnant' again?" Henry said miserably.

"How can you possibly still be mad about this?" Neal shouted, standing up. "How many times do we have to go through this? I gave you up—"

"Do not finish that sentence!" Emma flared, knocking back her chair. "Neal Cassidy, I swear to God, if you want to live to see Christmas—"

"—to give you your best chance!" Neal said over her, pounding the table. "I didn't want to leave you! I had to! For you! You did the same thing for Henry! Your parents did the same thing for you! Why am I the only one being crucified for it?"

"Who's crucifying you?" Emma retorted angrily. "All I hear is you praising yourself for being such a gosh darn wonderful guy for letting me take the fall for your crime and go to jail for eleven months in fucking Arizona!"

"I tried, Emma! Do you know how many times I tracked down August and his stupid fucking motorcycle, to try to find out where you were, if you were okay? He wouldn't even tell me which jail you were in! All I could do was leave you the bug and the twenty thousand I got for the watches! I figured it would be enough to get you on your feet—"

"What are you talking about?" Emma said icily, folding her arms. "What twenty thousand? I never got twenty thousand. What is this, another one of your delusions?"

Neal stared at her intently. "Emma, I left you twenty thousand dollars."

"No, you didn't. I got the bug, and PTSD from being forced to give up a kid because the father ditched me and left me to rot—"

"I left you twenty thousand dollars," Neal said loudly. "I didn't know about Henry, I didn't ditch you to let you rot in jail, and I left you twenty fucking thousand dollars, okay? I gave it to August, to give to…" He trailed off, his eyes widening in dawning comprehension. "Oh, my God."

"What?" Emma said acidly. "Don't leave me in suspense."

Neal looked up at her. "August," he breathed. "I gave the money to August."

Emma narrowed her eyes. "Does this story have a point?"

"I gave the money to August, that bastard ran off with it!" Neal covered his mouth, his eyes wide in disbelief. "He stole it," he breathed, lowering his hand. "I left you all the money I got from the watches, and he stole it."

Emma drew in a sharp breath. "Okay, so I'm still fucking pissed with you, but if you're telling the truth, I'm really fucking pissed with August."

"Where is he?" Neal said, dropping his hand and folding it into a fist. "I'm going to beat him to a pulp for this, where is he?"

"He's a child, remember? You can't beat him to a pulp, you'll go to jail for that. Oh, well, first time for everything!" Emma spat.

"AGAIN? FOR THE LAST TIME, EMMA—"

"Okay, ENOUGH!" Graham roared, standing up. Emma and Neal turned to him, breathing hard and fuming. "Everyone sit down and relax, all right? No more shouting, no more fighting, no more anything except enjoying this beautiful dinner I made for everyone and being thankful because it's Thanks-fucking-giving, okay?"

There was stunned silence for a few moments, everyone left speechless from Graham's outburst.

"Well, I'm thankful," Tink said at last, shattering the silence. "Thankful for the Professor's sexiness."

"Goddamn it," Graham muttered. "Someone give me the wine bottle."