#victor x ruby

Victor set his bag down next to the door, which he pushed closed behind him with his foot, and began unwrapping himself from all the layers of cold-weather clothes he was wearing. It was only October, but on the coast of Maine it got chilly fast. His overcoat, brought over from the Land Without Color by the curse, he hung carefully on a hook in the hall; it was durable and warm, not to mention stylish, and he didn’t want to rip it. The red knit gloves and scarf went on a table next to Ruby’s grey ones. His sweater vest (also stylish, but far too warm for wearing in the house with the heat on) he pulled over his head and dropped in the laundry room on his way to the kitchen.

The moment he saw Ruby leaning against the counter with a wolf-that-ate-the-canary grin, he knew he was in trouble. “Alright, what is it this time?” Surely not another dog; Ruby had already twisted his arm into bringing home two shaggy hounds from the shelter, who were probably curled up in the living room in front of the fireplace. They were the laziest animals Victor had ever met.

“Guess what I found at the store,” Ruby said. She didn’t wait for Victor to actually make his guess, whipping out a box of cereal from the cabinet behind her. “Ta-da!”

Victor stared at the cartoon mascot on the box for a minute. “Is that—Ruby, that’s ridiculous.” The cereal was labelled Franken Berry, and the mascot who shared the name was bright pink from head to foot, with a chain draped around his neck and slightly robotic features forming a wide, somewhat vacant-looking grin.

Ruby laughed. “It’s hilarious, Vic,” she said. “And it tastes good.”

Victor raised an eyebrow at the monster mascot. “Instead of Frankenstein standing for life, my family name stands for pink Halloween cereal,” he grumbled. “Well, if I can’t beat em, I might as well join em.” Cereal for dinner—why not? He had to know if it was as good as Ruby said.

He would probably never admit out loud that it was.

……

The next afternoon Victor stopped at the store on his way home from the hospital to pick up batteries and dog biscuits; the TV remote was only half-working, and the dogs became even lazier if they didn’t have their little bone-shaped snacks to motivate them.

As he passed the cereal aisle, the gaudy display of General Mills Halloween-themed ones caught his eye. He glared at the Frankenstein for a minute, then looked to see what other flavors they had. Count Chocula…maybe later, he did have a fondness for chocolate cereals.

Wait a minute.

Fruit Brute. The instant Victor saw the werewolf on the box wearing pink, green, and orange striped overalls, he knew he had to get it. He added it to his basket of groceries, already cackling inwardly at what he imagined Ruby’s reaction would be.

He wasn’t disappointed. When he presented the box, grinning, Ruby looked stunned for a minute, then burst out protesting and laughing at the same time. “My fashion sense is better than that!” she howled. “Those pants are horrible! At least your guy stuck to one color!”

Victor laughed triumphantly. Having gotten his revenge, he was just about ready to stick both boxes in the pantry and let the whole thing rest.

Then he saw the look coming across Ruby’s face and knew he was in trouble. “Hey, Vic, you know how Snow and Charming win the couples’ costume contest in the town square every year?” she said. “Maybe it’s time they get dethroned.”

Victor only needed a moment to consider it; he knew Ruby wouldn’t relent, and if he was being honest he liked the idea of taking the Charmings down. “You’re on, sweetheart,” he said.

…….

On Halloween, the two of them left the house all dolled up in their mascot costumes just as it was starting to get dark. The sky was a beautiful shade of dusky purple, and the streetlamps were coming on—the ones on Main Street had been decorated with covers that looked like jack-o’-lanterns, and the fairy lights strung from one to the other were in little ghost shapes.

“It’s a beautiful night for defeating the champions,” Ruby said, squeezing Victor’s arm with excitement. He loved this competitive side of her.

Sure, they both looked a little ridiculous; Ruby in a brown unitard absolutely covered with fake fur, plus a pair of pants she’d made herself to match the striped ones the wolf on the box wore, and Victor in magenta version of his usual lab coat and plastic chains draped around his neck spray-painted pink. But the Charmings weren’t laughing for long—not when Victor and Ruby were finally pronounced the winners of the couples’ costume contest and took a triumphant victory lap around the town square, then collected their prize: coupons to a new cafe that had opened a couple of weeks ago.

Liza Whale was finally taking a night off.

It was well-deserved, she knew that, but she had been slow in taking it. Her little boutique on the corner in the heart of Hyperion Heights kept her busy, and she didn’t have anyone to help with it. Business had gotten a little lighter after the Christmas rush, though, so Liza had decided to just close early that Thursday and go out for a couple of hours.

She ended up in a bar a couple of blocks away. It was classy place—no blaring neon or loud jukeboxes, no peanut shells on the floor, no casual clothes. It wasn’t the kind of place she thought she might come back to often (a little neon and a jukebox never hurt anybody, after all) but it was nice for an evening of self-pampering.

Liza sat down at a table for one, laying her black wool jacket across the back of her chair and smoothing out a small crease in the skirt of her deep red dress. It was one of her own designs; the things she sold in her boutique were produced by proper brands, but she created most of her own wardrobe in her spare time. Her favorite thing in the closet she didn’t even remember making, even though it matched a lot of her other clothes: a long red cloak with a warm hood and floral embroidery. She had ripped it last time she wore it, and was planning on fixing it when she got home later that night.

As she waited for someone to come by and take her order, she glanced around the bar. Her eyes fixed on a man halfway across the room, seated at an elegant piano. He was blond, with striking blue eyes that sparkled in the light of the wrought-iron chandelier. When he caught Liza’s gaze, the corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile.

Liza couldn’t help blushing. He was cute, and if she was reading her signals right, he thought she was cute, too. It had been a while since she had had any romance in her life—actually, she couldn’t remember the last time, it had been that long—and she liked the idea of drawing the eye of a handsome piano player.

After about half an hour of them sneaking looks at each other while he played and she sipped at a drink, the piano player got up for a break. Liza’s heart sunk when he walked right past her table, then skipped a couple of beats when she realized he was just getting a second chair from nearby.

“Julian Wolf,” he said, setting his chair down and holding out his hand for Liza to shake. He had smudges of what looked like paint on the side of his thumb. “I play piano here a couple nights a week.”

“You’re brilliant,” Liza said, grinning. She liked that it took him a couple of seconds to release her hand. “What do you do the rest of the week?”

“Freelance artist.”

It was paint! Liza smiled a bit wider. “That’s cool,” she said. “I do some drawing, too. Nothing big, just for the clothes I make.”

Julian smiled too. “Well, now I know we’re both artists, but I don’t think you’ve told me your name yet.”

“Elizabeth Whale. If you call me Lizzy I’ll kick your shins—I like Liza, though.”

“Well, Liza, I have to go finish my set, but I’ll be off in about an hour. Do you want to go for a walk with me then?”

She nodded. “I’d love to.”

Julian returned to his piano, where he started playing again, soft and sweet. The music sounded…familiar, Liza thought, but she couldn’t bring to mind a specific instance of hearing it before. Maybe I heard it in a past life, she thought, chuckling to herself. The music made her giddy, like any moment something wonderful might happen.

Ruby settled in on her blanket on the sand, a cooler full of Coke on one side and a pile of books on the other. It had been a couple of weeks since anything catastrophic had happened to Storybrooke, and summer was in full swing with bright blue skies and brilliant sunshine, so a rather large portion of the town had decided to gather on the beach for an impromptu party.

Snow sat down next to Ruby, leaning back on her own blanket. “A moment to relax will be worth all the sand I’ll be sweeping out of my apartment for the next week,” she joked, putting on a pair of white cat-eyed sunglasses. “I might even take a nap.”

“How wild,” Ruby teased, opening her first book. She had a couple of hours to kill before Victor’s shift at the hospital ended, and a stack of unread romance novels a mile high. “I’ll nudge you if you start looking lobstery.”

Snow chuckled as she turned onto her stomach, nestling her head on her arms.

After a while the smell of barbecue filled the air. Ruby glanced up from the page she was reading (she was already halfway through her second book); the wolf in her was very interested in whatever meat was cooking. Over at the grill, Granny was bossing David around—it seemed hectic, but the large chunk of meat that was smoking away looked mouthwatering, so Ruby supposed it was a good enough system.

“Food’s ready!” Granny called. “Come and get it!”

Ruby waited only long enough to poke Snow awake (what kind of friend would let a friend miss out on good barbecue) before dashing across the sand to collect a paper plate for her own meal. A table was set out just past the grill with desserts, most of them from the diner, and Ruby piled her plate with both barbecue and a slice of chocolate pie before returning to her spot on the sand.

As she dug into her food, a pair of strong arms circled around her waist. “Hey good-looking, got a bite to spare?” Victor teased, his breath ghosting warmly over the shell of her ear. Ruby chuckled as he pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder, then snatched a small chunk of the pork off her plate.

“Up for a swim later?” Ruby asked, pulling a bottle of Coke out of her cooler and handing it to Victor. “The bay is pretty calm today.”

“Hey, I didn’t buy this swimsuit just so you could look at me in it,” Victor said. “Maybe a little bit for that, but not completely.” His whole body shook as he laughed, and with his arms around her, so did Ruby’s. It was a red suit (she loved that he wore red for her) and it had a subtle darker crimson swirl pattern that matched the one on Ruby’s vintage-cut one piece.

“Help me finish this barbecue first,” Ruby said, offering him the plate. She scooted out of his embrace so he could eat, leaning back on her elbows and simply staring at him.

The warm summer breeze drifting across the beach ruffled the blond curls around the arms of his oversized sunglasses. He hadn’t been outside long enough yet for his skin to start turning red, but his face was a little bit flushed just from the heat. And best of all, he was looking back at her with what she knew was a mirror of the expression on her own face: pure adoration—and that was the most handsome expression she’d ever seen on him.

Ruby had cold soda, warm sand, blue skies, and the most wonderful husband in the world.

Ruby slammed the car door shut behind her and sprinted to the porch of the small house she and Victor had recently moved into. It was pouring buckets; it had been most of the day, and her clothes were still damp from running to her car from the diner fifteen minutes ago. Her hair was sticking to her face, which was annoying, and her new red shirt was bleeding color all over her favorite pair of jeans.

She didn’t really like the rain.

As she dug through her purse looking for her keys (Victor often locked the door while he was home alone, as he became too distracted by his experiments to keep an eye out for thieves—which there were a surprising number of in Storybrooke, Ruby had noticed), Ruby heard a loud crack of thunder in the distance.

Victor really didn’t like storms. Ruby sped up her search and unlocked the door, kicking it shut behind her. She pulled off her boots as she headed down the hall towards the stairs. “Victor? Honey, you home?”

There was no response from within the house, but she saw the dry-cleaning bag he was supposed to have picked up that afternoon hung over the back of a chair in the living room, so she knew he had to be there.

Ruby jogged up the stairs, her footsteps all but soundless in her comfiest, thick grey socks. She took a right at the top of the stairs and there was the master bedroom; the guest room was on the left.

Sure enough, Victor was curled up on the wide bed, a pile of different soft blankets covering all of him except his head. His head was resting on Ruby’s brown collie-shaped pillow.

Ruby went and sat cross-legged at the head of the bed. “Hey,” she said softly, offering him her hand. “You want to talk about it?”

He didn’t need to. Ruby already knew from past experiences that storms reminded Victor of the night his brother was brought back to life—the night their father died, and the night Victor realized that his miraculous cure for death hadn’t worked the way he expected it to. It was, Victor had made it clear, the worst night of his life.

Victor shook his head. He laced his fingers together with Ruby’s. “Just stay here until the storm passes,” he whispered.

Ruby nodded. That she could do. She scooted over and pulled Victor’s head into her lap, draping her arm across his shoulders. The collie pillow she pushed into his arms for him to hug—he was a good emotional support dog, considering he wasn’t a real animal.

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the headboard. Although the thunder outside hadn’t grown any quieter, Victor’s panicked breathing had settled some.

There was nothing she loved more (aside from Victor himself) than knowing that she was able to help. To calm him. To make him feel less alone and afraid.