Quick side note for Swanfire darlings... I apologize that last chapter wasn't exactly groundbreaking, but hey... at least they're togetherish now, right? I promise, you guys will get a good, solid chapter at some point; I was just worn out from all the "angst" I wrote, so I needed to give them something light.

"Can I please get some coffee here?" Hook said loudly, leaning over the counter. "Hello?"

The diner was a little busier than usual, and the coffee line ridiculously busier than usual. Everyone was looking for their morning caffeine boost to help spur their Black Friday shopping spree: people needed lots of energy to be able to claw at each other's faces as they fought over the last Barbie Dream House.

Even so, that was no excuse for Granny blatantly ignoring him: she'd walked by him and his outreached coffee cup several times, carrying a full coffee pot. It would have been next to no trouble for her to simply stop, pour him a shot of coffee, and continue on with her miserable existence.

"This is ridiculous!" he told her as she passed by him again. "Hello?"

"Oh, no, did you piss off Granny?" Neal's voice said behind him. Hook whirled around to see him and Emma, both of them grinning smugly at him as they held their to-go coffee cups. He glared at them jealously.

"Where did you get those?"

"Granny," Emma said cheerfully. "She likes us."

"Question is, why doesn't she like you?" Neal grinned, knowing perfectly well what the answer was. "You do tip, don't you?"

"Wretched old woman," Hook growled.

"Wretched old woman," Emma imitated him, scrunching her face into a scowl. Hook frowned.

"Emma, don't be rude."

"Emma, don't be rude." She took a sip of coffee, her eyes gleaming at his irritation before traveling up to the clock. "Neal, we should probably get going. We're running late."

"Late for what?" Hook asked.

"For not spending time with you," Emma said immediately. Hook rolled his eyes at her and turned to Neal, raising his eyebrows.

"Late for what?" he repeated.

"We're going to pick up the keys from Henry, and drop him off at David's," Neal explained. "Then I think we're going to hang out for a bit."

"What keys?" Hook frowned. "I don't remember keys. My keys?"

"Actually, one set's the library keys, so they are yours for the next couple weeks," Neal said, taking a sip of coffee. "Belle told me to tell you she wants you to take over while she's gone."

"Ugh," Hook grimaced. He hated working in the library: it meant he couldn't hang out with Neal and Emma at the station. But at least he wouldn't have to see Graham—there was the silver lining.

"And then I get the other set," Neal said happily. "Keys to the house. I get to house-sit."

"Ooh, I want to house-sit," Hook said, sitting up. "Let me house-sit with you, I need a break from the diner."

"No. I need a break from you."

"Neal, don't be mean to me. Let me house-sit with you."

"Well…hmm, let me thi—no."

"Neal," Hook whined. "Can't you—?"

He broke off as Granny walked back behind the counter, holding the coffee pot. "Coffee, woman, coffee!" he yelled, lunging across the counter with his cup.

"Okay…we're going to go now," Emma said.

"Bye, Killy," Neal said, flicking his head.

"Yeah, bye, whatever—GIVE ME SOME COFFEE, LUCAS!"

Granny whirled around, the coffee sloshing against the carafe. "Did you just yell at me?"

"I've been sitting here for the better part of an hour, and you still haven't served me!"

Granny narrowed her eyes, her mouth a thin line. "That's because, I'm retaining my right as a businesswoman to refuse service to anyone."

"Trust me, old woman, I'm not interested in any services coming from you," he shot back, glaring at her. "I just want some bloody coffee."

"I'll give you a bloody nose before I give you bloody coffee," Granny spat.

Hook raised his eyebrows. "By God, that's clever! Did everyone hear that?" he asked loudly, twisting in his seat. "Tell me you all heard that, it was brilliant!"

"You know, I can also throw you out of my diner!" Granny snapped. "I can throw you out of my inn! And then you'd be homeless, wouldn't you? Living in a little box by the docks, sharing food scraps with the pigeons, using a newspaper at night to keep warm! Coffee is the least of your worries, man-whore!"

Hook stared at her, open-mouthed. The bloody nerve of that woman! And, to top it off, she curled her lip disdainfully and said, "Now, if you'll excuse me… I have customers to take care of."

"I hope you break your hip!" he shouted after her. He slumped in his seat, looking gloomily down at his empty cup. Now what? He needed coffee. He couldn't start the day without coffee. He simply couldn't function without it.

The bell tinkled as the door open, and his salvation walked in: Tink. She was wearing heavy sunglasses, her bun a lot sloppier than usual, and judging from the way she was walking and the memory of last night, she was dealing with an epic hangover.

Of course. She'd need coffee, which meant she'd order coffee, which meant he could get her to order coffee for him! Brilliant!

"Tink!" He bounded toward her, shoving past people in line to get to her. Tink looked up, briefly lowering her sunglasses down her nose.

"What do you want?" she asked, pushing them back up.

"I need a favor."

"No."

"Tink," he said warningly, putting out his hand to stop her from moving past him. "Come on."

"No."

"Why?"

"I'm not a nice girl. Now, get out of my way."

Hook narrowed his eyes at her. "I don't think you want to antagonize me right now, love."

"Ooh, I'm shaking in my—WHY?" she screamed as he ripped off her sunglasses, sending the sunlight streaming into her eyes. Hook watched her wail, crumpling over the sun's intrusive rays, a cruel smile on his face. Now, the world would know: never cross a decaffeinated Killian Jones.

"I'll give them back, if you do me a favor," he said enticingly.

"That's what she said," Tink moaned, holding her hand out for her sunglasses. Hook grinned, and tossed them to her: between the two of them, an innuendo, or opportunity for one, never went unacknowledged.

Tink slowly stood up, sighing. She looked at him for a minute (at least, he thought she did, he couldn't tell behind those glasses). "How big a favor?" she asked wearily. "Like, could-you-hand-me-that-pen-size-favor, or help-me-hide-this-body-size-favor?"

"The first one."

"Oh. Well, that's not too bad, then. What do you need?"

"Coffee," he said promptly. "I need you to order for me, because Granny and I…well, because Granny and I."

"Is that it?"

"That's it."

"Okay," she shrugged. "Find us a table."

Hook looked around while Tink went to the counter, zeroing in on a group of women chattering at a table. Excellent. Women tended to be quite receptive to him—provided they didn't know him, on a personal basis.

Two minutes of some admittedly over-the-top-flirting later, he was seated at the table, humming, as Tink came by with two cups in her hand. "Here," she said, sliding one over to him as she took her seat.

"Thank you, darling," he said, taking a grateful sip. He closed his eyes, savoring the rich, bitter flavor. God, that was good. "Oh, I can't tell you how good this is. I was sitting there for ages, but that horrid old woman just walked right by me. And then, do you know, she has the nerve to threaten to throw me out? Unbelievable! She shouldn't be talking like that to her paying customers, especially ones like me, who've been loyal for a good two—"

"Hook," Tink said through her teeth. "It's too early, and I'm too hungover. Stop talking."

He grinned at her slyly. "Don't you mean 'Captain Sexy'?"

"Bit egotistical, don't you think?" Tink scoffed, raising her eyebrows.

"Not really. You came up with it."

She frowned. "What?"

Hook looked at her over the top of his cup, raising his eyebrows. "I said, you came up with it," he said, and took another sip as Tink stared at him.

"When was this?"

He swallowed and exhaled loudly. "Last night."

"Last night?"

"At Graham's." He grinned at her panicked expression. "You don't remember, do you?"

"I don't remember anything," she breathed, her eyes wild.

"Well, that's expected," he shrugged, setting down his cup. "You were incredibly drunk. I don't think I've ever been that drunk."

"Oh, my God," Tink groaned, putting her face in her hands. "I can't believe this."

"Believe it, love."

"I called you Captain Sexy?" Tink said, dropping her hands. "For real?"

"Oh, yeah. We had a regular boys' club going. Let's see," he said, leaning back in his seat. "There was Professor Sexy…Dr. Sexy…Captain Sexy, that's me…I think we even had a Gorgeous McSexy in there."

Tink eyed him warily. "Who was Gorgeous McSexy?"

Hook grinned at her. "I'll give you a hint. His name rhymes with 'Schleal Schlassidy.'"

"No!" Tink wailed, crumpling over the table.

"And that was barely the tip of the iceberg. You said the most humiliating things!" Hook laughed gleefully.

Tink said something a muffled voice, whimpering into the table. He cupped his hand around his ear, leaning forward.

"Sorry, didn't catch that."

"I said, what else did I say?" she said miserably, lifting her head.

"Well, let's see…. I seem to recall you demanding that Graham and I—" he cleared his throat, flourishing his hand to quote her—"rip off our shirts and start mud-wrestling."

"Oh, God."

"And you offered me twenty bucks to sleep with you."

Tink stared at him with wide eyes. "I did?"

"Mmm-hmm," he nodded.

"And…?" Tink looked at him worriedly, knitting her brow. Hook stared back for a minute, forcing himself to keep a straight face.

"You owe me twenty bucks."

"What?" Tink gasped, clutching the sides of the table with both hands.

"Twenty bucks, love. You never paid me."

"Oh, my God!" she said, horrified. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious." He held out his hand. "Pay up, or I'm going to have my pimp come after you."

"Hook!"

He laughed, ducking as she swung her hand out to hit him. "But honestly, Tink, if you weren't such a whore…"

"You're the whore, you're the one getting paid."

"You're right. So, that actually makes you more pathetic, because…"

He trailed off as the bell tinkled, and Ruby walked into the diner with several shopping bags hanging from her arms.

"Hook?" Tink frowned, and waved her hand in front of his face. "Hook."

"Captain Sexy, to you," he said absently, shifting in his seat to look over Tink's head: Ruby caught his eye, hesitated for a second, and then—Oh, my God, she's coming over here, he thought, a panicked feeling rising in his chest. Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.

"Hi, guys," she said awkwardly, stopping in front of them. She shifted her gaze to Hook, attempting a smile. "Hi."

"Hi," he croaked.

Ruby smiled a little more convincingly. "Hi."

"Hi," he said, mirroring her faint smile.

She hesitated, as if she wanted to say more. "Hi."

"Hi—"

"Are you high?" Tink asked abruptly, looking between the two of them. Hook kicked her under the table, still smiling at Ruby.

"I, uh… I see you've got some shopping done," he said, gesturing toward her bags.

"Oh. Yeah," she said, looking down at her bags. "Just doing my Christmas shopping." She smiled, shrugging. "You know, Black Friday. Good deals. I was up at three this morning."

"Three?" he repeated, his eyebrows shooting up. "Did you sleep at all last night?"

"Not really. But I did drink an entire pot of coffee to myself, so I stayed awake all right."

Hook let out a low whistle. "That's a lot of coffee."

"Well, it was a lot of shopping," she shrugged. "I was out for nearly seven hours."

"Eww," he said, wrinkling his nose at the thought of being out for that long, that early, in that cold. "Did you get everything done, then?"

Ruby looked at him for a minute, tilting her head. "I'm not sure."

Hook looked at her curiously, unsure of how to respond. Did that mean something? Was it supposed to mean something, or was he just reading too far into it? She was talking to him, much friendlier than she'd been the last few days… but she was still behaving extremely cautiously. Was this a good sign or bad sign? He crossed his fingers for "good sign", but the way his luck was running lately…

"Do you need some help with those?" he asked finally, shaking his head to clear it.

"Oh—that's okay. I was just on my way to put these away," Ruby said, smiling tightly and nodding her head. "Away in…in my room."

"Ah, yeah. Right…" Awkward, awkward, awkward.

"So…I'll see you later, then," Ruby said, giving them one last uncomfortable smile for the road. "Bye."

"Bye," he said, holding up a hand as she walked away; he slowly lowered it as she disappeared from sight, turning to Tink with wide eyes. "What does it mean?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"What does what mean?" she frowned.

"Ruby, what she said! The whole thing! What did it mean?"

"How the hell should I know?" she shrugged, taking another sip. "Girls don't have female-to-female telepathy, you know. We're not all interlinked by our minds."

"You don't?" He felt slightly disappointed. "I suppose you don't have pillow fights in lingerie, either."

"Oh, sure we do," Tink deadpanned. "All the time. I have to clear my schedule in advance for all the sleepovers I have to attend."

"Okay, we're going to talk about that later, but right now, I really got to ask you—" Hook looked at her intently—"what did it mean?"

"I don't know," she said, staring back. "I already told you."

"Can you find out?"

"Can I find out? No."

"Oh, come on, Tink…"

"Nope."

Hook frowned, rubbing his thumb against his lips thoughtfully; then snapped his fingers. "I can make it worth your while," he said, pointing at her.

Tink raised an eyebrow. "Going to cut me a deal on the twenty-bucks-fee? No, thanks."

"If you talk to Ruby for me, I'll talk to Neal for you," he said, choosing not to tell her that Neal and Emma seemed to be approaching a delicate situation. Tink lifted her chin, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

"You'll talk to Neal for me?"

"Yep," he said, nodding profusely. "I'll talk to him."

"You'll talk me up?"

"Like it would be possible to talk you down."

Tink inhaled deeply, considering him. "All right," she said at last. "I'll see what I can do."

"You will?" he said delightedly, beaming at her. "Oh, Tink, I could kiss you! Except, I'm afraid I'd catch something, like herpes or something."

Tink glared at him. "You're such an asshole."

"I know, but you're such a whore…"

Thoughts? Feelings? The urge to hit me with a shovel (which is hopefully a random one)? Tell me, and you get a cookie.