"Hiya, Toots," Tom Clark whistled at Red after his pharmacist shift. "Hubba, hubba!" She'd been stepping out of Granny's Diner to check on her wolf ornament hanging on her rearview mirror.
It wasn't that she was worried about it, but looking at that ornament gave her a sense of peace. And she'd had a rougher-than-typical day. Starting with knocking an egg carton off the refrigerator shelf at the bed and breakfast she called home, picking it up wrong, and getting doused in broken eggshells and raw eggs. She'd pivoted wrong and slammed her toe into the counter (it had throbbed all day).
That was only the very beginning. Many irritants had occurred. Red had come to see her wolf three times already.
She didn't like to be called "Toots", but clad in her barely-cleared-her-buttocks red skirt and seductive smirk, she was used to that—and worse.
Dr. Whale didn't call her much of anything, but his lecherous stare while on dates with other women informed Red exactly what he wanted her to do to him.
It never bothered her. She was confident and in control of her sexuality. Thought she hadn't had time to do anything since Granny's heart attack, which came briefly before Emma arrived in town. When Red had planned to sleep her way to Boston.
Now that her memories were back, she missed Peter. Billy was nice, but the childhood friendship turned romance was amazing and unable to be duplicated. Maybe that's why she didn't want a relationship at all but to have fun when the timing worked.
"Hey," she answered. Saluting Tom Clark (used to be Sneezy) with a good-natured wave of her arm.
Grumpy had been in Granny's and explained the situation to everyone there. Thus, Red knew Sneezy was back to his cursed self.
"Ever been to The Rabbit Hole? You might like the poles." Tom winked lecherously. From his line of sight (not her eyes), he was definitely appreciating the view of her legs—and imagining what was under her skirt.
Red took a step back. She didn't mind guys ogling her legs—after all, she practically put a frame around them for men to enjoy. However, she had a secret rule—if a man chose to look anywhere but her eyes when speaking to her, she would not give him her attention.
Whale had never made this error, but other men had.
"What?" Tom blinked at Red's retreating legs then lifted his gaze to meet her scowl. "You're not into pole-dancing? That's fine."
Red shook her head and darted back in the restaurant. David, Snow White, and Emma Swan had arrived at the same time as Abigail (cursed alias: Kathryn) and Frederick.
"I left a note," Abigail was saying. "I assume Regina burned it because I told her about it."
Emma was telling Frederick about the time she'd been trapped in the Mad Hatter's place. "He had a gun! And I peered in his telescope at his daughter then whacked him with it…"
"May I take your orders?" Red inquired brightly.
Snow reached up and stroked her on the back of her neck. As if Red were a puppy.
"We were just," Emma began, "here for dinner and to discuss getting custody of…But I wanted to hear the Midas story," she informed Frederick, her eyes glowing a bit. "I bet it's out of this world."
"We can discuss Henry at home later," Snow declared. "Let's all have dinner together."
"Grumpy's mining?" Abigail asked David conversationally when they ambled to their table.
"All the dwarves are," replied Snow sweetly, "except Sneezy, obviously."
Red made a "tkk"ing noise then bit her tongue and grimaced. "I'll say you'd best exclude Tom Clark." She pulled out a chair for Abigail then offered a curtsy and a bright smile. "For the lady."
Speculatively as all three women sat at the same moment, Emma pondered, "Why didn't you hold the chair out for Mom?"
"Because she's my friend." Red tapped the back of Snow's hand affectionately with her fingertips. "I don't curtsy to my buds."
They didn't notice one of the customers sliding to a closer table with his milkshake in tow. Nor did they notice him halting over the glass containing the liquid and tilting his head for finer eavesdropping.
After Red took their orders, Frederick told his tale of saving Midas then having Midas accidentally turn him to gold. Abigail continued the tale, explaining the crushing guilt her father felt and offering her as a clandestine prize. She explained she hadn't appreciated the gesture as much as her father had anticipated (all while stroking the back of Frederick's neck) because her heart had pined for one man and one man alone.
She then encouraged David to divulge the details of his "heroic quest" to save Frederick.
David lifted his short beer glass to his lips. "Wasn't anything 'heroic' about it," he dissented after taking a gulp. "I thought Snow didn't love me, so I didn't care if I died. But I did want to succeed so two fortunate lovebirds could be together." He then launched into a very humble version of his tale. David had his faults but bragging and pride were not two of them for the shepherd.
The conversation twisted to Regina. "So many people want her dead," mused Abigail, "or at least to pay for her crimes. But Rumple brought magic here…how can you even take Henry from her if she has magic and you don't?"
Worry trespassed Emma's face fleetingly, but she ejaculated, "Gold. He'll help us." She made a menacing fist. "Or I'll lop his head off with a sword." She beamed victoriously.
"Steal his dagger," suggested Snow playfully. "Control him."
The milkshake drinker accidentally knocked his drink off his table.
"His what?" Abigail wondered, touching her bottom lip with the nail on her forefinger.
Leaning forward earnestly, Snow asserted, "Henry showed me Rumple's story of becoming The Dark One…there's a dagger that can control him."
The milkshake drinker moved his lips soundlessly.
"Yeah," David sighed, grabbing Snow's wrist then bringing it to his lips for a kiss, "I know you're joking though. That's what's easy, not right."
"Easy?" Emma scoffed. "Knowing that man, it's bound to be in a high-security safe in Scotland. I'm sure he's connected enough that it's not in Storybrooke, never mind the country. I'd rather catch Rumple with honey than go dagger hunting."
Snow hooked her arm through her daughter's. "Me too!"
"I don't think jail will hold Regina," David mused. "We might have to kill her."
Emma hesitated. "I, um, promised Henry…" She faltered.
Abigail tsked. "First rule of parenting: never make promises you can't keep. There's a helluva lot of people who want her dead. And I found a security camera where Regina bitches Rumple out because he didn't murder me. She pretended to be my friend, yet she would've crowed if I were dead. I'm Team Kill That Bitch, though I will sit on my hands, not participate."
"Alrighty then," Emma sulked. Beckoning at Abigail, she asked Frederick, "You fell in love with this?"
"Deeply and truly," he answered shamelessly.
Emma narrowed her eyes at Abigail. "You don't have any kids, so what makes you think you're qualified to offer parenting advice?"
"Speaking from experience. When an adult makes a promise they can't keep to a child, the child loses all respect for them." Shrugging, Abigail asserted, "But if that doesn't frighten you, keep doing it. I'm sure Regina has given Henry plenty of those type of promises. So you can't act better than her if you do it often."
Emma shook her head slowly. "Fine. I won't get Mother of the Year award. Happy? I haven't been doing this thing long and guess I'm more like his friend."
"Hmm," mused Abigail, pulling slightly away. "In that case, remind me not to consider us friends."
"What do you think Regina will do to us?" pondered Frederick. "Because I see her guillotining us to dust…with music, of course."
"Eh," Snow grunted, "she's usually nastier than that from the stories I heard. But she might crack that book of spells in the foyer in her mansion. I saw it last year when I made a house call for Henry's benefit."
The milkshake man nearly fell out of his seat as he convulsed with excitement.
"It's in a glass case so might not be that easy to obtain," Snow continued fluidly. "But yeah, I have a feeling however she intends to handle murderous townsfolk is in that book."
"Yeah." David's brow creased with worry. "Now that you mention it, we probably should try to obtain it."
"I'm the sheriff," Emma uttered with authority. "I'll confiscate it tomorrow."
The milkshake man grinned madly. Under his breath, he threatened, "Not if I confiscate it first."
With an unnoticed swish, the Mad Hatter left Granny's Diner, no one the wiser on what he had overheard.