Dear Anon, my lovely guest reviewer: To answer your question, Emma's "thirstiness" is kind of an inside joke I have with myself. She gets progressively more self-centered and childish in the show, which frustrates me to no end—especially since she still suffers from the "Savior Complex". Personally, I find it more palatable than she commits to her self-centeredness rather than just keep pretending she's an unselfish hero, so I play her up in this fic as this "id" character.

That being said, I'm glad you're liking the others :D. I don't think Hookfire is ever going to be romantic, but I'm sure I can get some more Tinkerhook in there.

"Neal? Neal?" Emma's voice wavered from down the hall. "Where the hell did he go?"

Neal held his breath and shrank against the wall as far as he could. He was perfectly aware of how strange it was, for a guy to hide from his extremely hot and extremely horny girlfriend; and under different circumstances, he wouldn't have been complaining.

But alas, Neal had been cursed with something called "foresight". "Foresight" meant "being extremely aware of being surrounded by family and friends who all had a front-row view of Emma's ministrations, and really not wanting to invite snarky comments from Hook; glowers from Rumple and David; judging looks from Regina; or loud complaints from Henry." He didn't want to dethrone Hook and Ruby as Storybook's sluttiest couple, either—not when they'd put so much time into campaigning.

"Neal?" Emma's heels clicked past him, her voice carrying as she went farther down the hall. "Hel-lo-o-o-o? Goddamn it, where is he?"

Neal waited until he could no longer hear her footsteps; and then let out his breath and stepped out of the shadows, turning in the opposite direction.

It steered him away from the party, toward the quieter part of the house where the back staircase was. Well removed from the crowd, away from the glare of the obnoxious Christmas lights and the music beating from the speakers…a good place to hide out, at least for the time being.

Robin must have thought so, too, because there he was—sitting on the bottom step, staring dully at the floor with a mostly-empty beer bottle swinging from his hand.

"What's wrong with you?" Neal asked by way of greeting, sitting down beside him.

"Apparently, everything," he said bitterly, taking another swig of his drink. "Just ask Regina." He glanced at Neal, raising an eyebrow. "What happened—you get mugged?"

"Emma happened. She's…especially fond of me today."

"Oh, I see." Robin smiled humorlessly. "Regina's especially not fond of me today."

"Sucks."

"That it does, Neal. That it does."

They lapsed into awkward silence, the way they normally did when Hook wasn't around. Neal never quite knew what to say around Robin: Hook gave them a common ground, as he often said things that allowed Neal and Robin to gang up on him. But other than that, they'd grown apart over the years—possibly because Hook had pushed his way in between them, demanding as much as attention as he did, but there it was.

"So, why are you hanging out here by yourself?" Neal said finally.

"Avoiding Regina." Robin tipped the bottle again and swallowed, exhaling loudly. "God, she's the worst."

Neal's eyebrows jumped. "Okay. Sensing some bitterness."

Robin didn't answer. He stared straight ahead, tapping his fingers deliberately against the bottle. "I'm not going to have much of a place in my daughter's life, am I?"

"Er…"

"She's magic," he said flatly. "Regina's already talking about your father training her. And how she's going to teach her everything there is to know about potions and curses and spells…That, and how she's going to be a doctor or a lawyer or an engineer—something that requires lots of studying and schooling, anyway."

Neal shrugged. "Nothing wrong with having ambition for your kid."

"Yes, okay, ambition's fine. But this child hasn't even been born yet, and Regina's already planned out her whole life!" Robin said impatiently. "And I don't have a part in it! I can't teach her magic, I can't teach her math and science, I can't do anything! I'm helpless, in all of this—do you know what I'm here for?" He didn't want for Neal to answer; he jabbed a finger at him, and hissed, "I'm the whipping boy. Every time something bad happens, I get the blame for it; every time someone irritates her, she takes it out on me."

Neal knit his brow in confusion. "I thought you guys were…I don't know, like, in love and shit."

"I do love her," Robin said. "Maybe it's the masochist in me, and maybe two people couldn't be more ill-suited, and maybe it was only possible by a weird combination of fate and accidents and a very nosy fairy, but I love her." He paused. "She's not an easy person to love, though."

"But—" Neal shook his head—"but you're always smiling a-and laughing—"

"I'm on bloody Prozac!" Robin said exasperatedly. "Antidepressants, Neal! I've been medicated for two straight years! Of course I'm always smiling! What, did you think I was just overjoyed with life? No one is that happy unless they're on something!"

"Shit." Neal stared at him with wide eyes. "Sorry, man, I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't know! Because who bloody asks? Who asks about Robin? Oh, he's just Regina's pageboy, isn't he? Just her little boytoy, he's not important." Robin glared at the ground, twisting his hands around his beer bottle. "Everyone, all the time…'Robin, help me find a girlfriend' and 'Robin, I feel disconnected from my boyfriend', and 'Robin, I don't know how to deal with being a father' —I mean, do you people realize, I don't have all the answers? Look at me, I'm having a child with a woman who used to call herself 'the Evil Queen'! I've got my own issues to deal with!"

What do I do? Neal thought, feeling rather panicked. Robin was threatening to fall apart in front of him, judging from his shaky voice and the ever-tightening grip on the bottle. Emotion…Neal usually focused all his energies on ignoring them, but Robin seemed to have no control over his. What was he supposed to do in this (highly uncomfortable) situation?

Talk? a small voice suggested.

That's dumb, he scoffed.

I'm serious, bro. Robin probably wants to talk—he does shit like that.

You're right, he mused. All right, thanks.

No problem.

Neal took a deep breath, bracing himself for a conversation that could potentially include man-tears. He wasn't sure if he was prepared for that, but there was no helping it now.

"So, you, uh—" he coughed into his fist—"you're not doing too good with all this magic stuff?"

"It's more than magic. It's Regina in general. She's just…she's a very rigid person—I'm not. You know me, I've got a big, soft heart, I'll love anybody. Especially her. But I feel like she only tolerates me."

"You tell Regina any of this?"

Robin slowly turned his head, looking at him incredulously. "Yeah. Right after I suggested we adopt Hook."

"But, like…" Neal waved his hand, searching for words. "Like, what brought this on? You're usually so…Robin."

"Relationships take work, okay?" Robin said. "I put a lot of effort into being there for her—even when she's not paying any attention to me, I'm there. But I get exhausted, too. Do you know what it's like, having a person who once did unspeakably horrible things depend on you?"

Neal's thoughts immediately drifted to his father. A series of unpleasant childhood flashbacks swept over his eyes: a man being turned to a snail—a mute girl seeing the Dark One dagger—crowds scattering every time they walked in a village, knowing that any one of them could be killed with a flick of the wrist. Rumple had lost himself when he became the Dark One: let his mind be infected with power, changing from the loving father from his earliest memories to a power-hungry, cold-hearted, calculating creature.

He was different now: Belle had found the little bit of warmth left in his heart, and brought him back to the man he was. He still had traces of that poison in him, but the love he had for Neal and Belle kept him anchored. And as great as it was to have his father back, Neal could never completely relax around him, knowing the things he'd done. He just dealt with it the way he dealt with everything else: ignored it, repressed it, and tried to forget.

"How do you do it?" he asked finally. "Live with…the knowing?"

"Prozac. Not talking or thinking about it. Remembering that I wasn't always a model citizen myself and using that as a justification." Robin took another gulp from the bottle and wiped his hand across his mouth. "We're not so different, Neal. We deal with things by not dealing with them."

Neal closed his mouth, having opened it to say something about how unhealthy that sounded—until he heard the last part. It startled him, sending his thoughts into a scattered mess.

He wasn't like Robin. Robin was emotional and sensitive and wore his heart on his sleeve—

And ignores anything that threatens to upset his calm life and avoids thinking about emotional issues and pretends he doesn't feel certain things—

Dude, shut up! he told the voice exasperatedly. I'm dealing with a Robin situation right now!

Bro…come the fuck on. You're having a moment of self-reflection right now.

No, I'm not. Shut up. Get out of here.

Okay, do you see the irony? You're regretting how you push thoughts away—while you're literally in the process of pushing me away. Like…are you doing this on purpose? Is this supposed to be funny?

NOT LISTENING, NOT LISTENING, NOT LISTENING—

Oh, yeah, that's REALLY mature—

NOT LISTENING, NOT LISTENING, NOT LISTENING—

Whatever, bro. Don't listen, it's fine—it's not going to make anything go away, though—

NOT. FUCKING. LISTENING.

Fine, then stop fucking talking to me!

Fine!

Fine!

FINE!

"What's fine?" Robin frowned.

"What?"

"You just shouted, 'Fine'—like, really loud."

Neal blinked. "I said that out loud?"

"Yeah, right in my ear, mate."

"Oh, shit. Sorry."

"It's okay." Robin offered him half a smile. "Thanks, Neal."

"For shouting in your ear?"

"For listening to me. For being there." Robin looked at him for a minute, nodding slightly. "It helps."

"Yeah…" Neal tapped his fingers together, feeling rather awkward about accepting gratitude when he wasn't even entirely sure how he helped. "So, are you good now? Feeling…less shitty?"

"For now," Robin shrugged. "It won't last, though—it never does. Thank God for Prozac. And for…Bro-zac?" He raised his eyebrows hopefully.

"Oh…no, Robin, let's not call it that—"

"Bro-zac," he repeated firmly, and held out his fist. "Let me have this, Neal."

Neal looked down at his fist and with a reluctant sigh, bumped it. "All right," he said wearily. "Bro-zac."

"There you go." Robin picked up his bottle and held it up to the light to consider it. "Hmm," he frowned, sloshing its contents around. "Running low on the alcohol here." He glanced over at Neal. "You want to come with me to get some more?"

Neal shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

"Excellent."

They both winced as they made their way out of the shadowed room and into the brightly lit hall. The party seemed to be dying down some, though there were still enough people to make the trek to the kitchen a hassle. Neal held up his elbows, trying dodge his way through the crowd that milled around,

"'S'cuse me…s'cuse me…'s'cuse me—"

"Neal?"

Neal jumped back, knocking Leroy to the floor. "Emma, don't!" he warned, ignoring Leroy's muffled curses. "I'm dealing with a Robin situation right now, I don't have time—"

"No, no, no," Emma said, shaking her head. "I just want to talk, okay? I swear. What? Neal, I swore," she said when he gave her a skeptical look. "Come on."

Neal narrowed his eyes. "You sure about that?"

"Yes," she said, looking at him so earnestly, he actually believed her.

"All right—just to talk."

Emma relaxed, letting out a relieved breath. "Thank you."

"Just to talk," Neal reminded her as she took his hand and led him off to the side. "You better not try to corner me against the wall again—I don't like that. It's vaguely threatening."

"I was going for 'passionate'," Emma said in an injured tone.

"It came off more like 'rapey'."

"Shit." Emma's eyes widened. "Did it really?"

"It really did," Neal said flatly. "Especially since I said, 'Emma, stop', like, fifty times."

Emma knit her brow worriedly. "Are you very angry with me?" she asked. "I figured you must be, once I realized you were hiding from me."

"I wouldn't say angry," Neal said. "But I think we both know how I feel about P.D.A.—"

"I know, but—"

"—people judge you, it's embarrassing—"

"Yes, I know, but—"

"—hate being judged, you know that, Emma—"

"I do know that—"

"—how can I properly judge people, when they're judging me?"

"Neal!" Emma covered her hands over his mouth, looking at him desperately. "Can you just give me a chance to explain?"

Neal frowned down at her hands, and carefully pried her fingers loose. "I don't be appreciate being shushed, either."

Emma let out a frustrated breath and dropped her hands. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I was just…" she shrugged. "I don't know. I was feeling spontaneous. I thought I could persuade you into ditching the party with me, but that clearly failed."

"Emma," Neal said impatiently. "If you wanted to ditch, why did we come to this thing at all? I could have lived without the public performance, you know?"

"I know," she droned. "Hence the word spontaneous. I didn't plan ahead of time, it was—" she waved her hand—"you know, like a heat-of-the-moment kind of thing."

"Well, heat-of-the-moment doesn't really work when you're surrounded by parents and step-parents and kids and obnoxious friends," Neal said. "I mean, how does that not bother you?"

"Of course it bothers me, but we never get a minute alone anyway!" Emma said exasperatedly, throwing up her hands. "This family is so congested and nosy and over-involved in each other's lives all the time, there's never a private moment! There's no breathing space! There's no breaks in between! It's just constant, all the time, and it's impossible to do anything without someone knowing about it!"

Neal stared at her bemusedly as she slumped her shoulders, hanging her head.

"There's never a private moment," she repeated wearily. "Everyone is always there, all the time. We don't get any time, just the two of us, because there's always someone else around, being a third wheel. Or a fourth wheel. Or a fifth or a sixth or billionth wheel, because literally everybody in this town knows everyone else's business."

"Wait a second," Neal scoffed. "Are you saying, that because we can't get an actual moment alone, you waited until the entire town was gathered in one house, so we could have a moment alone in front of them all?"

Emma raised her eyes to the ceiling, thinking it over. "Huh," she said. "When you put it like that…"

"Sounds kind of like something a dumbass would think of, doesn't it?" Neal said, raising his eyebrows and nodding his head. Emma flicked her gaze back to him, and flashed him a sarcastic smile.

"Thank you. Thank you for making an effort to understand, that's very sweet."

"I didn't say, I don't understand. I'm just questioning your method. And sanity. And a little bit, your intelligence."

"Look, I've been waiting sixteen years to have a life with you," she said flatly. "And I thought this moving-in-together thing would at least be a start, but then Hook jumped in, and my dad threw a fit, and your dad's out for my blood… There's always something putting us on hold. I'm just working with what I have. Question my judgment all you want, but at least I'm making an effort. Which is more than I can say for you."

She folded her arms and raised a challenging eyebrow. "You told me in Neverland, that you would never stop fighting for me. So, like—get fighting, dude."

"Okay, but you told me in Neverland that you were hoping I was dead—"

"You are taking that out of context," Emma said, raising her voice over his. "I said, I was hoping you were dead, because of the love-thingy between us and hurt feelings getting dredged up and why are we even talking about this?"

"You invited it into the conversation," Neal shrugged. "I thought it was the natural progression."

"Neal," Emma said, in the exasperated way she so often said his name. "I also said, I loved you and I always will. Why do you never remember that part?"

"Well, the hoping you were dead thing is the one that kind of haunts me. Especially since I also learned some interesting things about you and Hook that day—"

"Aaagghhh, don't talk about it!" Emma complained, covering her ears. "Eww, God, please, don't talk about it!"

"You bring up Tamara all the time," Neal frowned.

"Yes, but that's different," Emma said desperately. "Tamara wasn't just a one-time, drunk-and-bored mistake. And I still don't know how we got on this topic. And don't say it was the natural progression!" she added fiercely, seeing him open his mouth.

"Fine," he said. "Then, we got on this topic because you tried to use Neverland against me, and you should know by now, that if we're going to argue Neverland, I am always going to win. Dude, you should have brought Tallahassee into this, that would have given you a leg to stand on."

Emma stared at him incredulously. "Are you actually critiquing my argument skills right now? In the middle of an argument? An argument that's basically, who loves who more? Are you actually doing that that, Neal?"

"I'd say, it's more about, who's said more dumb shit than who—"

"Yeah, but I say and do dumb shit because I love you. Huh?" Emma nodded her head, smiling in appreciation of herself. "How's that for romance?"

Neal frowned. "That literally makes no sense."

"Oh, it literally does. You just don't get it because you're emotionally anesthetized. But believe it or not, Neal, humans often get carried away with feelings, and they act with poor judgment because of them." Emma let out a heavy sigh, and folded her arms. "Which brings me back to my original point."

Neal raised his eyebrows, prodding her. "Okay…?"

"I'm frustrated. I'm impatient. And the fact that you're—" Emma shook her head, closing her eyes in reverence—"especially sexy today doesn't help things—"

Neal flicked his eyes upward, but didn't say anything.

"Point is, I'm sorry. I know I was…weirding you out—though, frankly, you could have it off a lot worse, than having a hot blonde throw herself at you, just saying—"

"In front of a crowd, which is highly disturbing for someone like me, because then everyone judges."

"—but I only did it because I'm crazy about you, and I have really poor judgment skills, and absolutely no boundaries sometimes. And plus, I drank some pink stuff earlier, and I think it was a lot stronger than the black coffee." Emma flopped her hands dejectedly. "Further evidence of my poor judgment skills."

Neal looked at her for a long time. Emma-fucking-Swan: possibly the most frustrating woman in his entire universe. Because somehow—somehow—even after all the dumb shit she said and did; even with every painfully obvious flaw and obnoxiously obvious ego; even with every screwed-up, mentally unstable, borderline psychotic, and just plain weird thing about her, she was Emma.

Just…Emma.

How did a guy like Neal get addicted to a girl like Emma? She was everything he wasn't—and simultaneously, exactly everything he was.

Wait, what?

I don't know, he told the voice exasperatedly. I'm out of fucks to give here. My brain hurts.

I literally don't even know what that means. How can she be everything you are, and still be the exact opposite? You're not a fucking poet—stop trying to be a fucking poet. Can't you just be normal, and say something like, "Oh, she's fucking crazy, but I still love her", and be done with it? Jesus, dude.

Shut up. Don't you have some minor action of mine to psychoanalyze and torture me with later?

Yeah, but you left the door wide open with "everything you aren't and everything you are" or whatever you just said. Shit…And you accuse her of saying dumb shit.

Fuck you.

Fuck you!

Fuck YOU!

"Neal?" Emma crinkled her brow. "Are you okay?"

"What?" Neal blinked at her. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"You're…growling to yourself."

"I am?"

"It's a little weird, actually."

"Oh." Neal gave his head a little shake. "Sorry about that. Listen—"

Emma raised her eyebrows hopefully.

"—I get it, okay? It's dysfunctional, and it's annoying, and it's suffocating, but Em…this is our life together. It's got a big, crazy, mentally unstable family attached, and random people traipse through and disrupt it, but that's just what families do." Neal lifted his chin, feeling rather inspired. "You have to look for the moments in between all their crazy shit, and take what you can get. Not during —-in between."

He coughed into his fist. "That being said…that doesn't mean you can't help those between-moments along. Sometimes, it's perfectly acceptable to…oh, I don't know…kick a certain roommate out for the night that leaves a certain apartment otherwise empty."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" she asked, a shrewd smile crawling on her face.

"You have to be the one to tell Hook to take off for the night," Neal said firmly. "I don't want to deal with it. I already had to deal with Robin's emotions, and between that and this little thing we just had here, I'm mentally exhausted."

"Shouldn't be too hard," Emma shrugged. "Ruby's a great motivation for him. I'll just get her to take him home with her."

She turned to leave—then stopped mid-step, and turned back around. "How exhausted are you exactly?" she asked carefully. "Just mentally?"

"Oh, let me guess," Neal said wryly. "You have a follow-up about 'Sexy Cubicle Worker'?"

Emma grinned. "I might."

"All right, uh…" Neal glanced around for inspiration, then leaned toward her ear and whispered in his mock-sultry voice, "Paperwork. Answering phones. Coffee breaks."

Emma's smile faded. "Shit," she said in awe. "I have weird turn-ons, because that totally worked."

"You seriously do," Neal sighed, straightening back. "But it could be worse. You should have seen some of the stuff Hook cleaned out of the apartment."

Emma made a face, looking intrigued nonetheless. "Eww, what?"

"Oh, no," Neal said, shaking his head. "I won't burden you with the knowledge. It's too late for me, but I can still save you. Just know that, I judge him for it."

"Ruby, wake up."

Ruby frowned, shrugging away from the hand that tried to shake her awake. "Go away, I'm busy," she mumbled.

"Come on," Hook wheedled, trying to pull her up. "Time to go home."

"No, I'm tired," she complained, turning away from him. "Go 'way."

Hook dropped her arm and exhaled through his teeth."Ruby, this is getting significantly less cute," he said testily. "Let's go."

"No, no, no, no, no, no," she protested as he dragged her to her feet. Hook let out a frustrated breath, and threw her arm around his shoulder to keep her upright.

"Ruby, so help me God…" he muttered.

"Too tired to walk," she mumbled sleepily. "It's okay, I'll just sleep here."

"Regina is not going to let you sleep on her couch, darling. Come on now, walk."

Ruby cracked her eyes open and turned her head, considering the walk to the door. Ugh…so far away. And there were people all crowded around it, that meant extra time standing and waiting.

Ugh…

"Ruby, work with me here," Hook said impatiently.

"I'm just going to let you carry me," she decided.

"No, don't go boneless—Ruby, come on!" he snapped as she went limp, forcing him to hold her up as her head lolled back. She closed her eyes, ignoring his efforts to push her to a stand.

"Too tired," she repeated.

"Too tired to walk five feet to the door."

Ruby opened one eye, smiling lazily at him. "Much too tired."

"Hmm." Hook nodded slowly, as if deeply considering her words, then cleared his throat. "Ruby, will you marry me?"

Ruby's eyes snapped open. "WHAT?"

"Oh, good, you're up," he said cheerfully. "Think you can walk now?"

Ruby stared at him in horror, her heart thudding hard enough to punch a hole in her chest. "You weren't serious, were you?" she said.

Hook snorted. "Don't be stupid, of course n—oi!" He rubbed his arm where she hit him, looking amused nonetheless. "Someone's feisty today."

"You're an asshat," she glowered. "You scared the crap out of me."

"'Asshat'…" Hook smiled fondly. "I've missed that word."

Ruby took a minute to balance herself on her heels, still feeling the effects of the drinks she'd indulged in earlier.

"Good thing Neal is driving," Hook remarked, watching her stumble a little.

"Do not sass me right now," she warned. "That was a really shitty thing you just did."

"What, waking you up?"

"That is not how you wake people up," Ruby glared. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Funny you should ask that," Hook said brightly, pointing at her. "Because I actually made an appointment with Dr. Hopper later this week to find out. There, now—aren't you proud of me?"

Without waiting for an answer, he pressed a kiss to her cheek and added, "I'm going to get the coats."

"You're an asshat," she called after him.

"I know!"

"Asshat!"

"I heard you!" he sang back.

Ruby rolled her eyes, fluffing out her hair. Fucking moron, she thought witheringly. Only Hook would think a random proposal was a reasonable way to wake someone up. He really was an asshat.

"Hey, Ruby, can I talk to you for a sec?"

Ruby turned around, surprised to see Emma standing behind her. Oh, shit, she thought, the phrase "lingered and hmphed" echoing in her head. She had an idea what this was about. "Look, Emma," she began nervously. "I swear to God, I wasn't hitting on Neal, I was just—"

"Yeah, whatever," Emma said impatiently, waving her words away. "I need you to do me a favor."

Ruby raised a wary eyebrow. "Okay, go for it."

"Great. So—" Emma swung her hands, clapping them together—"here's the thing. I need you to keep Hook at your place, because I needs the apartment tonight, okay?"

"I don't think so," Ruby scoffed. "Do you know what he just—?"

"Oh, wow, I so don't care," Emma said loudly. "Look, I don't want the details, I just want you to take him."

"Wha—? No!" Ruby sputtered. "No, I can't! I won't!"

"Ruby, come on—"

"No. After the shit he just pulled, there is no way in hell I'm going to reward him—"

"I didn't say 'have sex with him', I said 'keep him'! I don't care what you do or don't do—nor do I want to know, thank you. Just keep. Him. Out. Okay?"

"He's not my problem tonight," Ruby insisted, folding her arms. "He scared the living hell out of me—"

"Oh, my God, are you seriously still mad about that?" Hook's voice exclaimed behind her. "Bloody hell, Ruby! Build a bridge and get over it!"

"Get over it?" she repeated incredulously, whirling around. "Get over it? You think a person can just get over something like that?"

"I said, I was kidding," Hook said, nonplussed.

"Yeah, but who can tell with you?" Ruby said wildly, throwing her hands up. "I mean, goddamn! Why would you do that to me? Why would you scare me like that? Do you hate me? Is that what it is, do you hate me?"

"Of course I don't hate you, I bloody love—hang on, hang on!" he said hastily as her eyes widened and she pointed accusingly at him. "That's not what I meant, that's not what I was going to say! Goddamn it, Emma, get out of here, this all your fault!"

"Wha—me?" Emma squeaked, pointing to herself. "All I did was tell Ruby to take you tonight, I haven't said a word to you!"

"You're putting me off!" Hook retorted. "Go away, you're making things weird!"

"No, you're making things weird!" Ruby snapped, hitting him in the shoulder. "Stop saying dumb shit, you're freaking everybody out!"

"It's Emma's fault!"

"It most certainly is not!" Emma said indignantly. "Look, I don't know what's up with you two idiots, but I'm just an innocent bystander! You two deal with each other however you want—just let me spend one night with Neal without this moron having night terrors in the other room!"

She stalked off, throwing them a threatening look over her shoulder. Ruby brushed her off: she wasn't scared of Emma—Hook, yes; Emma, no. She whirled back around, glaring at him so fiercely, he flinched.

"What is wrong with you?"

"I honestly think you're making too much of this—"

"I am not making too much of this!"

"Okay, fine, you're not making too much of it! Would it help if I said I was sorry?"

"No, it wouldn't help if you said were sorry! It's in my head now!" she hissed, tapping her finger rapidly against her temple. "It's in my head and it's freaking me out!"

"Damn it, Ruby!" Hook said exasperatedly. "I was joking! You know, maybe I'm not the only one who needs to see Dr. Hopper! Because if a meaningless little joke like that scares you so much, you've got commitment issues! Ha!" he added, looking very satisfied with himself.

"Fine, whatever, I've got commitment issues—who the fuck cares?" Ruby snapped, throwing arms up. "Although, I think it's a bit rich, coming from the guy who slept with a different girl every night for two centuries!"

"First of all," Hook frowned, counting off on his fingers, "what happens in Neverland, stays in Neverland, so I'm not even going to comment on that accusation. Second, I was on a two-hundred-year long revenge quest, so if anyone can handle commitment, it's me. Third, why are we even arguing about this? It. Was. A. Joke!"

Ruby clenched her hands into fists. "That wasn't a joke, you were about to say something really stupid—"

"Ruby, don't be daft! I wasn't actually proposing to you—"

"Wasn't what?!"

"Shit," he muttered, hearing Granny's horrified sputters. She pushed roughly in between them, her wide eyes darting from side to side, her jaw quivering in fear.

"Wh-wh-what the hell is going on?" she choked. "Oh, God, Ruby, please tell me you didn't do anything stupid—"

"Just me," Hook snarked, his eyes flashing with loathing at the old woman.

"You just insulted yourself, dumbass," Ruby said witheringly. "Granny, get out of here, I can handle this."

"Ruby…honey…" Granny gripped her arms pleadingly. "Look, I know you're an adult and you can make your own decisions, but please, don't let that manwhore talk you into anything—"

"It was a bloody joke!" Hook shouted. "I was trying to wake her up!"

"Not that!" Ruby cried. "The other thing! I know the first one was a joke—it better be a goddamn joke—"

"It was a goddamn joke!"

"—fucking stupid joke—"

"Yes, I realize that now!"

"—I'm talking about the other thing! The thing you almost said, and it would have been really fucking stupid if you finished that sentence—"

"What sentence?" Granny asked in a panicked voice. "Ruby, please don't go off and sail on the high seas or whatever!"

"Granny, go away, that's not what I'm talking about."

"I most certainly will not go away!" Granny insisted, stamping her foot. "Is he scaring you? Did he threaten you? I'll kill him! I'll take my crossbow, and I'll aim it right up—"

"No," Ruby said loudly, raising her voice over Granny's. "Don't worry, it's nothing like that—and I can take care of myself, so you don't have to be here. I'm dealing with it."

"Ruby…" Granny knit her brow, looking up at her concernedly. "I know you can take care of yourself. That doesn't mean you have to."

"Wha…?" Ruby blinked at her; then gave her head a little shake. "Granny, why are you suddenly talking all nice to me now? You're freaking me out, too."

Granny grimaced at Hook over her shoulder before gently pulling Ruby to the side, to give them the illusion of privacy. "Ruby," she said carefully. "Look…I know we had a falling-out because you think I'm too controlling, and I think you're out of control, and we just… we get on each other's last nerve. But I'm still worried about you, hon."

"Granny…" Ruby groaned, tilting her head back. "Come on, I don't want to have a moment. Not now. I'm in the middle of something here. Something that you're not involved in, so if you could just—"

"You're right, I'm not involved in it," Granny said, raising her hands in surrender. "But I'm not trying to get into your business or anything. All I know is, you're upset, you look scared, and my instinct is to protect you. That's not just a wolf thing—that's a grandma thing."

Ruby shifted on her feet. It always made her nervous when Granny acted like this: usually, it only came about when something bad happened. It was probably just the effects of classic conditioning, but that didn't stop her heart from drumming anxiously in her chest. "I'm not moving back," she said finally. "If this is an attempt to get me to move back in, I'm not going to."

"It's not," Granny said, shaking her head. "Doesn't mean we have to keep fighting, though. Especially on Christmas."

Ruby folded her arms and dropped her eyes, twisting the toe of her shoe into the ground as she thought. The truth was, she did miss Granny. They'd been together her entire life: it was a broken, tiny, tense little family, but it was their family. She would rather swallow a handful of nails than admit it, but knowing that Granny was still looking out for her, even now, spread a soothing warmth through her.

"Well—" she cleared her throat—"that's…that's true. I guess. I mean…yeah." She lifted her head, giving Granny a small nod. "So, we're good. I mean, if you're good, I'm good. So—you're good, right?"

"I'm good," Granny shrugged.

"Okay." Ruby twitched an awkward smile at her. "Okay, so…I don't know. Maybe I could stay in my old room tonight. We could spend Christmas morning together, like we do."

Granny raised her eyebrows. "You want to unwrap presents at five in the morning, so we can open the diner by six?" she said disbelievingly.

"People still gotta eat, don't they?" Ruby grinned, giving her shoulders a little shrug. "Besides—it just wouldn't be Christmas if I wasn't completely exhausted and miserable."

Granny smiled, and patted the top of her head in the way that only Granny was allowed to do. "I'll go start the car. I'm driving," she added, giving her a stern look. "I counted how many drinks you had tonight—"

"Don't ruin the moment," Ruby warned her. "No lectures."

"—and I heard some rumors about some other stuff that I didn't need to know about that I hope to God were only rumors—"

"Granny!" Ruby said loudly. "Moment is in danger of being ruined! Just go start the car, I'll be right out."

Granny held up her hands in surrender, and stepped away, making sure to give Hook a smug look as she passed him. Hook flicked his eyes away disdainfully, as if he couldn't be bothered to even glance at his arch nemesis. Ruby drew in a deep breath as she walked back to him, feeling around in her purse for her key.

"Here," she said, bringing it out. "Stay at my place tonight, so Emma and Neal can have some time together."

Hook raised his eyebrows as she dropped it in his hand. "Not coming, I take it?"

"Nope," she said in a clipped voice. "I'm staying at Granny's tonight."

"Granny's?" he repeated. "Are you that angry with me?"

"I'm not angry," she frowned. "I just don't want to be around you right now."

"Ruby—" Hook closed his eyes impatiently—"I wasn't being serious. I say stupid shit sometimes. I'm sorry."

"Okay, fine, you're sorry," Ruby shrugged. "But you still threw it out there, and it still freaks me out, and I still don't want to be around you right now."

"Why not?" Hook said, practically crying with frustration. "What is the big deal? I didn't even say anything that bad!"

"You almost did," she reminded him. "And that little stunt you pulled earlier—"

"I was just trying to wake you up! And it worked, didn't it? You've been bitching at me nonstop since!"

Ruby glowered at him, and snatched her coat from him. "Do me a favor, okay? Avoid me for a few days."

"Oh, that's nice."

"No, I mean it," she said, yanking her coat on. "Avoid me, or I might say some things you'll regret."

"Fine," Hook said icily. "Here, before you go—" he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small box—"take your present."

Ruby caught it with one hand, and used her thumb to crack it open. She peered in suspiciously, holding it a safe distance away. Just a simple little necklace, nothing special—some random little pendant, like a swirly-circle-thingy-whatever.

"I figured everybody either gives you wolf stuff or red stuff, so you must be getting sick of it," he explained flatly. "So I just looked for something I thought you'd like and picked that up."

Ruby shrugged and snapped the box closed. "Thanks," she said, dropping it in her coat pocket. "Yours is on my dresser somewhere. You can open it when you get in."

"I'll open it tomorrow," he said coolly.

"Open it whenever you want," she scoffed. "I literally don't care."

Hook smiled bitterly. "Clearly."

Drama queen. Everything had to be a production around him: first, he had to get all not-really-jealous-but-totally-jealous because she said Neal was hot; then, he had to find the stupidest way to wake her up and made the whole thing spiral into a huge argument; and now, he was acting like she'd betrayed him because she needed some breathing space. Did she have commitment issues? Maybe—but that was her problem, not his; and if he was going to be a bitch about it, that only made her want to put even more space between them.

"Have fun figuring out all your shit with Dr. Hopper," Ruby said shortly. "Keep me updated, in case he finds out what's wrong with you."

"You, too," Hook returned. "Maybe he can figure out what's wrong with you."

"Oh…." a hushed chorus of voices breathed from behind her. Hook's eyes darted over her head, and frowned, his mouth falling open indignantly.

"Oh. My. God. Are you serious?"

Ruby turned around to see everybody—Emma, Neal, Belle, Rumple, Snow, David, Regina, Robin, Henry, and Tink—poking their heads curiously out of the kitchen door.

"Have you lot been listening the whole time?" Hook said incredulously.

They all exchanged startled looks, and there was a general mumbling of "Whoops! Look at time, I have to go!" and "I gotta go check on a thing…", bumping into each other as they retreated back into the kitchen.

"This was supposed to be a private conversation, thanks!" Hook yelled after them. "Goddamn it! What is it with this family? You can't ever get a moment alone!"

"Maybe we should resurrect the Hook-and-Ruby pool…" she heard Henry say thoughtfully, before everyone shushed him. Ruby frowned, turning back to Hook.

"What's the Hook-and-Ruby pool?"

"Who the hell knows, they're fucking weird," Hook grimaced, superfluously adjusting his hook. "I guess you'll be on your way, then."

"Guess I will be," Ruby said frostily, and pushed past him. "Merry fucking Christmas, asshole."

*I apologize for any inconsistencies regarding the length of Hook's revenge quest/age. I feel like I've said "two hundred years" more, so we're just going to go with that, even if it's different from the show because who can fucking keep track anymore?

*Also, Ruby may have seemed like she was overreacting, but I have this underlying major psychological issue for her that basically has to do with the last guy who loved her ended up getting shredded into a million thousand bloody pieces, so...more on that later. WHAT YOU READ WAS NOT RANDOM DRAMA, THAT WAS RUBY'S FUCKED-UP-NESS SURFACING.

Anyway…. Recap: Robin's on Prozac, Ruby's got commitment issues, and God only knows what happened in Hook's childhood (well, okay, God and me). Meanwhile, Rumple's struggling with his addiction, Regina needs anger management, Whale is adjusting to gay life, Emma can't get a single goddamn minute alone with her emotionally anesthetized boyfriend, and this has been the most miserable Christmas party Storybrooke has ever seen.

Archie's going to be able to buy himself something real nice, after all these new clients—because, yes! ARCHIE IS JOINING THE MIX.