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He was humming under his breath as he walked into Grannys. What had Henry called it? Ah yes, an ‘ear worm’ that tune that got stuck in your head and you couldn’t get rid of it. Perhaps if he hadn’t have been happily replaying the memories of yesterday he might have made the connection, but the image of Roland sat on Regina’s lap clapping along to the cartoon on the tele-thingy was cute enough to distract him.
The whistle of cold steel and the solid thunk of metal hitting the wood of the door frame just left of his ear froze him in his tracks. Robin was unable to move as he found himself staring at the point of a crossbow bolt aimed at his head. The urge to drop to the floor was overwhelming, but he found he couldn’t move. How in the hell had she reloaded that fast?
“Do not sing THAT song in here.”
The patrons of the diner were apparently suffering from the same paralysis as he was; there was only one person still in control of their movements and thankfully that was Granny. The old woman pushed the crossbow down with one hand and grabbed hold of Ruby’s shoulder with the other. Robin didn’t dare exhale until Granny had ushered her granddaughter into the kitchen.
“Ruby. Come with me. Now.”
The sound of wood and metal clattering on to the tile allowed Robin to sag against the door frame. He watched as Granny hustled a fuming Ruby into the kitchen. Gasping breaths clogged in his throat as he bumped his head against the still quivering crossbow bolt lodged in the door frame. The outlaw swallowed hard as it dawned on him how close to death he had come. Ruby was a bloody good shot, almost as good as Granny, and was now really the time to be complimenting her on her marksmanship?
A gentle hand on Robin’s arm pulled him towards a seat; he dropped into it gratefully and looked up to find Rumple looking at him with a trace of a smile on his face. The former Dark One glanced at his cane handle and drew in a deep breath as he settled himself into the seat opposite.
“I take it that Roland has been watching cartoons.”
Robin could only nod dumbly. Rumple met his wide eyed stare with a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.
“Might I suggest that you never so much as whistle that particular ditty in Miss Lucas’ hearing ever again? And please remember that her hearing is enhanced.”
Robin still couldn’t find his voice, but managed a confused frown. Rumple sighed and leant across the table until his mouth was very close to Robin’s ear. When he spoke it was clear that he was trying very hard to keep any hint of music out of his voice.
“Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf…”
Robin’s eyes widened.
“Exactly Mr Hood. Ruby has also discovered Netflix and, shall we say, she is unimpressed with the artistic liberties taken with her family history.”
“Bloody hell.”
Rumple sat back and tap his cane against the floor, the trace of a smile bloomed into a full on smirk.
“I see we understand each other.”
Robin threw a fast glance towards the back of the dinner and winced at the barely muffled shouting match that was plainly taking place there. Rumple’s brown eyes were alive with merriment as he focused on the still shaking outlaw.
“I don’t often divulge anyone’s secrets, so listen up. The tale of the three little pigs is not all that farfetched. Miss Lucas’ great-grandfather was the big bad wolf and it was actually three beavers rather than pigs, but since Widow Lucas has finally decided to be open about her family history, Ruby is a little sensitive.”
Robin had just about gotten his panicked heart beat under control. He closed his eyes as he tried to understand what Rumple was telling him. He licked his lips and asked the first question that jumped to the front of his mind.
“Beavers, not pigs?”
Rumple sat back in his seat and rolled his eyes with a heavy sigh. The hand that wasn’t gripping his cane danced in the air as he elaborated.
“In truth a cranky magician may have turned three masons, who had failed in their contract to him, into the most fitting animal.”
Robin’s eyebrows quirked as he read between the lines of that explanation;
“You turned three builders into beavers? And,” Robin’s eyes darted toward the now silent kitchen, “they met a toothy end?”
“Yes. At least beavers are known for their building skills.”
Robin nodded slowly. Netflix was apparently a duel edged sword.
“I need to apologise to Ruby, but first I need to call Regina.”
Rumple tilted his head and watched as the thief pulled his cell phone from his pocket. Robin caught his interested stare and said;
“I need to let her know that Roland singing that Down Under song is a good thing.”
Rumple chuckled as he rose to his feet. He didn’t tell Robin that his son’s musical choice might incur Belle’s ire. His lady love had formed a certain attachment to her adopted heritage. At least she wouldn’t shoot the happy family with a crossbow. Probably.