A/N: English is not my native language. I apologize any inconvenience this may cause. Also, I need to write Granny more often.


Youths, Granny Lucas thought to herself with a grain (or more like a boulder) of dread balanced with disgust. You'd think teenagers are the worst kind to be around as a veteran, but you'd be wrong; it's the people who never grow up, like the Queen and the Sheriff well into the fourth round of bickering since just that morning polluting the atmosphere of her diner. They just march in there like they own the damn place, scare away customers because apparently neither of them has gotten laid at least since Roosevelt (and there were clearly no plans to have that happen on purpose) and in worst cases break things, because taking it outside is too mainstream. Granny would bitch slap those youths, teach them a lil' bit of discipline. Back in her day, life was tough. She slept with her crossbow under the pillow. She would have to hunt down her own food for several days at times. She would have to bathe in its still warm blood to earn some respect. Do you think people ever complained that someone's precious baby stayed up too late at night or about some other menial disobedience? Hell to the no, children were taught that shit. The old ways were the good ways. Take Red, for example; girl knew how to build a snare before she could speak. And damn her if Gran wasn't proud of that girl.

"May I ask what exactly possessed you to even think for one moment that it would be a good idea to give my son a copy of Halo?" Regina spat and Granny could swear she saw steam coming out of her ears (among other crevices, she presumed).

"May I ask what possessed you to act like a stupid bitch, Miss Swan?" Granny hummed in a high-pitched mocking voice as she poured hot water over the dirty plate in her hands.

"Jesus Christ, Regina, it's just a game! He's been kissing up to me to have it for weeks on end!"

"I'm sorry I want our kid to have fun, Regina! Oh, would you look at that, is that a stick up your ass right there?" Granny mocked in a different squeaky voice and brushed bits of lasagna of the plate.

As disgruntled as she was to have to leave this lovely conference, her phone rang in her pocket, and Granny abandoned her task to hide behind the other side of the wall. (Purely for cosmetic purposes; it wasn't like anyone could hear her speak over the Storybrooke Idol that was happening in that room.) The screen flashed the word 'Ruby' in black letters, and Granny reminded herself to change that name later. "Red?"

"Are Swan Queen at the diner?"

"And hello to you too," Granny snapped. "Who the hell is Swan Queen?"

"Gran. Emma Swan. Regina, Queen. Get it? It's kind of a thing."

Youths, Granny thought again. "Yeah, yeah. They're here, waging guerilla warfare with words over some stunt regarding Henry that Emma pulled. Unfortunately she forgot to remove the log in Regina's backside."

"Listen, I don't have much time so I'll make this brief. They're in love with each other, they don't know it, I'm going to do something now and I need you to call me back and tell me what happens right in that instant."

"What are you talking about? They look like they're about to claw each other's eyes out!"

"Okay, this is going to sound crazy, but yesterday during my shift, Whale was making sleazy remarks about Regina and — get this — Emma totally punched him in the face. She wasn't even that drunk at the time!"

Oh, so that was why the Sheriff looked like she had attempted to best a brick wall at the noble art of fencing and failed miserably the night before. Granny had to admit, though, the way Emma dealt with the noise was nothing short of impressive. She was probably having a massive migraine, too, but hey, everyone knows that a Swan's gotta do what a Swan's gotta do — even if it means beating Regina's vocal chords to a pulp with her own.

"And last week, when I took Emma out to buy her some decent non-fairytale land clothes, we ran into Regina and she got all sassy about how Emma was finally getting rid of that red jacket for her — she said 'for' her, I'm not even kidding! — and then Emma kept refusing to buy another one after all, but the way Regina looked at her when she turned around, Gran I'm telling you, I could literally smell the stink of desperation coming out of that look, and they just, you don't, ngnngn, sfffd—"

"Honey, if they're not going to admit it to themselves, I doubt there's much you can do about it."

"Shhh, just, just go back there, watch them, watch what happens and report back to me in about five minutes, okay? Okay?"

Granny sighed loudly enough for her granddaughter to hear. She was about to get herself in trouble and they both knew it. But that had never stopped Red before, and thinking a broken curse or two would change that would be foolish. "Fine, but if something gets blown up in the process, I'll be making you pay for it."

She got back to washing the dishes only to find out that not much had changed at all. The argument had escalated a bit; she was beside herself with joy (next to the rooted feeling of annoyance and despair) that the pair chose this time of day, when barely anyone was present at the diner (and that barely anyone was Grumpy & Co., who honestly just didn't give a crap as long as you gave them their beer), otherwise everyone would have already left. Some people might have even filed a lawsuit for sexual harassment for being exposed to a fighting 'Swan Queen', that was how bad the tension was in the room. Granny could feel the number of her wrinkles increase tenfold just bearing witness to what was happening.

"So when your son grows up to be a bully, you will not even take responsibility for having promoted violence in front of him so openly?" Regina yelled and the wince this elicited from Emma was not lost on her. Ah, yes, must have been the rum.

"Oh so now he's my son? Every time he makes us proud he's your son, but I only get him to be my son when he fucks up, is that how it works?"

Regina lifted her hand in a 'stop talking and sit down' motion, effectively silencing Emma, and picked up her own phone. Not at all pleased with the interruption, the blonde looked like she was about to spontaneously combust for a split second, and Granny had to brace herself not to duck in her paranoia.

"Who is this? How did you get this number? — Yes, I am. Yes, she is. I trust you are capable of explaining your message to her on your own. — Excuse me? That is ridiculous. — I highly advise you not to— She did? Oh. While flattering, that hardly changes the— I did no such thing. — She did?"

Granny turned off the water. She almost put on her glasses just to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her. Was that Regina, the Evil Queen, giving Emma the worst googly eyes she had ever seen? In fact, as unlikely as it was, for some reason Regina gave off the vibe she was about to burst into tears, and Granny almost but not quite wanted to throw an apple-sized teddy bear in her general direction. Almost. Oh lord, was that a v… a vul… vuln…vulnerable Regina? Oh no. Those words cannot coexist in the same sentence. Oh Jesus Christ, Red, you sneaky bastard. Gods help us all.

"Well then, I will take your insight into account," Regina said and ended the call.

Emma was more than happy to resume right where she left off. "I'm nothing but a bad influence for the kid, is that what you think? That's not fair, Regina. You know how hard I tried, how I had to see them carry him out that door because I'd decided that I wanted my son to be happy, and now I can't even fucking try to do that without you judging my sorry ass? How about you mention that part when he almost killed himself because of you, huh? Was he your son or my son at that point? I don't need a fucking title to be able to raise my own kid, thank you very much!"

Ring ring. Right in the nick of time, too, because at this pace, Granny predicted a punch was imminent within several seconds. She just wasn't sure who would be the one to deal the first blow. Probably both at the same time. Can't have one do something better (or earlier) than the other, can we?

"Rubes, this really isn't the right time — Yes, I am. Yeah, she is. What the hell are you talking about? Are you high? — That's just bullshit, Rubes. — Like hell she did. In what universe am I worthy of that 'honor'? — You what? If this is one of your stupid practical jokes, I will end you. — You're wrong. — I just did that because I'm allergic to stupidity. It had nothing to do with the— That's not what I was about to say! You can't be— Really? — Really? But she's— Okay. Thanks, Ruby."

Click.

"Uh… Ruby called," Emma mumbled, running a hand through her hair.

"Yes, that was quite evident."

Despite the dramatic turnout of events having rendered her speechless, Granny noticed that even Grumpy's boyband had fallen silent. She also noticed that neither the Mayor nor the Sheriff seemed to care the least bit, and thirdly she noticed that she was beginning to root for Emma to go for it, because damn her to hell and call her Wendy if now wasn't the time.

And boy, did Emma go for it.

Granny picked up her phone and dialed Red's number.

"So? So?"

"They're kissing."

Several beats of dead silence followed.

"They're kissing. They're kissing! THEY'RE KISSSIIIIIIIINGGG!"

Granny laughed at her granddaughter's squealing and what sounded vaguely like a car being thrown off a two hundred story building and hitting the ground. Then, though, she frowned, newfound worry worming out of the heart of (the still kissing) Swan Queen.

Those two on the same side? They were all, each and every one of them, inevitably screwed.