Originally posted on AO3 on June 18th 2014.

plausible deniability

She was running late. Almost.

She would make it to her meeting on time because she had left the house early, especially on a day like today, but she was later than she would have liked, and she hated that. There was an accident on Main Street, and it had taken longer than usual to drop Henry off at school. It had also started raining as she made her way from the school to the courthouse, which meant that she would have to make an unplanned stop at the bathroom because she needed to look her best for her first meeting with the defense attorney. First impressions were everything. She wouldn't let a short walk in the parking lot ruin hers. Regina Mills had a reputation to maintain after all.

The case was big; the stakes were high. She was a distinguished district attorney. Her name was on everyone's lips, her success unrivalled. She hadn't lost a trial in eight years, and she certainly didn't plan on starting now.

The defense was lead by someone she didn't know – Robin Locksley. Regina had asked Emma to look him up (finding people was her job), and the man had apparently moved to Storybrooke from Sherwood a few weeks ago, and this was his first case in this town. Too bad for him he would oppose her. He didn't stand a chance.

Regina glanced at her watch as she stopped the car: she still had fifteen minutes to go. If she walked fast, she would be able to grab a coffee at the court café downstairs before heading up to the conference room for her meeting with Mr. Locksley.

She bounced out of the car and headed straight for the bathroom to check on her hair. The rain thankfully hadn't done too much damage. Another quick look at her watch. Twelve minutes. She dashed for the café and thanked God there was no line-up.

As she made a beeline for the elevator, coffee in one hand, paperwork in the other, she still had seven minutes to go.

Everything went wrong when she turned the corner of the hall and slammed into a solid body a few meters from her destination.

"Milady, my apologies!" a British accent exclaimed as she took two steps back and stared horrified at the coffee that now stained her blouse and the papers scattered on the floor.

The stranger who had bumped into her at least had the decency to gather her things while she regained her composure. When he stood up, his deep blue eyes found hers, and she had to summon all her willpower not to gape at him.

She bit her tongue as he handed her the pile of documents, cursing herself for being so shallow. Men, even handsome ones such as the one before her, usually didn't have this effect on her. Still, she couldn't help her wandering eyes from settling on his lips as he spoke, and she chided herself for even going there. She had an important meeting to go to, and even if there was no way she would look presentable now, she still had to go.

Regina tried to focus on what he was saying instead of gazing longingly at his features, "I do hope my mistake hasn't cost me my head, Ms. Mills."

The mention of her name brought her back to the present, and she paused, blinked, and tilted her head to the side. "So, you know who I am," she said, suddenly intrigued by the men in front of her. Despite the fact that her morning beverage was now on her clothes and that she would most likely be late, she couldn't help the tight-lipped smile that formed on her face.

The man chuckled softly, "Your reputation in the courtroom precedes you."

"I didn't catch your name." If her tone dropped down to an almost purr, it was totally unintentional.

"Robin, Robin Locksley, attorney for defense," he said, extending a hand.

Crap.

The man was the most infuriating bastard she had ever met.

Sure, he was gallant (he had picked up her documents when he knocked her over earlier), he clearly had an education (he made legitimate arguments as to why his client should plead not guilty), and he might even be a tad handsome (not that she would ever admit it). But he acted as if all of this was a joke, like this case was just some common one, but it was a breakthrough, for both of them, and she couldn't stand how he laughed again at some quip he just made.

Regina was fuming. She just wanted to wipe that smirk off his face – with a slap or a kiss, she didn't know, and she admonished her brain for the latter thought. The more time she spent in his company, the more she detested the man, even if her libido told a different story. This wasn't high school, and she was too old to let her body's desires betray her. It had been a long time (too long) since she'd had someone, but making out with the defense wasn't an option she should even be considering.

"It seems we've reached a stalemate," she declared after thirty minutes of heated discussion, colliding heads and long speeches to best the other in their knowledge of law.

"Indeed," he simpered in acknowledgement. (She definitely felt like choking him.)

She clasped her hands together on the table, ever the professional. "I'm sure you'd agree, Mr. Locksley, that avoiding a trial is in everyone's best interest."

The defense attorney casually leaned back in his chair, like this was a normal, everyday conversation. (Regina repressed the urge to roll her eyes.) "As I said, I can discuss your offer with my client, but we will probably stand by our original declaration."

"Then I guess I'll be waiting to hear from you." She meant it as a final statement and stood up, collecting her papers.

Before she knew it, he was next to her, leaning nonchalantly on the table. "How about next time we don't make it so formal?" he suggested, gesturing to the huge conference room surrounding them.

Regina turned to face him, slightly shocked. "Excuse me?"

"There's great tension in the air of these offices. Meet me for a drink next ti-"

She cut him off with a wave of her hand, "I don't day-time drink." It was a half-hearted attempt at maintaining some decency because she already had had far too many improper thoughts about her opponent today.

He seemed to back away for a moment, but it didn't last long as he took a step towards her and leaned in to gather his stuff from the table, brushing her in passing. Damn him. He reached for his folder, hovering close (far too close for comfort), and his scent filled her nose: pine and firewood. Regina wondered where a lawyer picked up such a scent. Something about it was intoxicating. Her heart sped up at his proximity, and she couldn't stop the small intake of breath that made her chest rose and almost collide with his.

Even with his papers in hand, Locksley didn't retreat: instead, he remained standing a few inches from her. Her eyes dropped to his lips for a fraction of a second, and the pleased look in his eyes when she looked back up told her the movement hadn't slipped his notice. She cursed mentally.

"I was thinking coffee, Ms. Mills," he said with a hush tone, a playful gleam in his eyes. "Don't read too much into it."

Robin Locksley was a stubborn ass, and she regretted the day she had bumped into him in a hurry and reacted like a schoolgirl with a crush.

Their second meeting went slightly better than the first one, if only because Regina knew what to expect this time. (She evidently had declined his drink invitation, even if it was only coffee.)

She snapped back quick barbs like a pro, but no matter how hard she tried, nothing seemed to faze the defense attorney. He was imperturbable and, if anything, his annoying grin grew wider each time she tried to match his wit.

He hadn't tried getting into her personal bubble again, for which she was glad, but his remarks had a flirty edge to them, and she couldn't comprehend how the man could make a pass at her while in the middle of a serious business talk. The worst part was that he wasn't even being subtle about it.

She decided that she hated him.

As it turned out, her subconscious had other plans.

For the next two weeks, they met with their clients and each other and tried to come to an agreement that would avoid a trial.

It was a mere coincidence if the mornings Regina was scheduled to meet with him, she woke up earlier and changed outfits three times, looking for the one with the best fit: one that highlighted her feminine aspects but not in a provocative way and not in a way saying she was desperately looking for attention. If she accidently left open three buttons of her blouses instead of two, it had nothing to do with him. The new habit she had of obsessing over her hair and make-up those mornings was blind chance, and if Henry noticed that, whenever she talked about her upcoming trial, she spent more time with Locksley's name on her lips rather than the usual job talk, the young man didn't call his mother on it. However, he did tell her to 'have a good time with Mr. Locksley' when she mentioned seeing him again.

It also turned out the defense attorney was quite good at his job – though not nearly as good as she – but it was clear he knew his client's rights, and a trial was unavoidable if neither she nor he would back down.

"I guess I'll see you in court, Mr. Locksley," she said as they closed their last meeting, politely extending her arm as she stood up.

He shook her hand, getting to his feet as well. The smile floating on his lips made her stomach flutter, and she squared her shoulders in an attempt to dismiss the unprofessional feeling.

Locksley clearly had other intentions as he took a step towards her, and Regina was glad she was wearing heels because if she had been wearing any other footwear, she would have been forced to look up at him and he did not deserve that kind of satisfaction. Instead, she met him at eye level, staring into his blue irises with defiance, already preparing a witty retort to anything he might say.

"I think dinner is more likely," he said with lilt that made her insides hum.

She blinked. "What?"

"Well, it seems to me we've spent the last two weeks discussing a case that is obviously as important to your career as it is to mine," he noted, gaging her reaction. "I'd just like the end result to be as pleasant for the one who loses."

She scoffed and something like half a chuckle came out. "I don't lose," she countered, trying to control her body's screaming affirmative response to what he was suggesting.

As if sensing her inner debate, Robin closed the distance between them, something he hadn't done since their first meeting (not that she noticed or wanted it to happen again). The corners of his mouth turned up at her discomfort, a smug expression decorating his face. "If you're so sure of yourself, you won't be afraid of a small wager," he dared with a mellowed voice.

She shouldn't. She shouldn't. But her eyebrow shot up on its own, curiosity getting the better of her.

"If I win, you let me take you out," he proposed.

She almost laughed, "You think I'd let you win?"

"You won't," he replied promptly.

So he expected to win fair and square. No one bested Regina Mills, but the fact that he admitted that she would give him a hard time did score him a few points.

"Why should I agree to this little bet of yours?" Her voice betrayed her; she sounded far more interested than she should be.

He shrugged, "I think deep down you want to."

"What makes you think you know me so well?"

"Well for one thing, I'd be walking out that door by now if you didn't," he stated matter-of-factly, cocking his head to the side to look at her.

Regina stared at him for a few seconds, taken aback by the truth in his words. She had a reputation: she didn't let anyone in, and, he was right, she should have shot him down already. But she hadn't, even though every ounce of common sense in her body told her do otherwise. "True," she conceded, chuckling softly. It was easier to take the situation lightly.

"So, can I invite you to dinner?" he asked more directly this time. When she hesitated, he added, "You still owe me that drink," and leaning in closer, "and I certainly don't mean coffee this time."

She didn't really owe him anything, but she couldn't shake the fact that she desperately wanted to say yes. The prospect of spending more time with him irritated her, but the defense attorney had been plaguing her dreams ever since she met him. Maybe spending one evening with him would make her realise they'd never work out and she could put this infatuation behind her.

"I have a son," she blurted out as her last line of defense. She didn't know why she had said it, but it seemed as good an argument as any. Surely the man wouldn't want to date a woman who already had a child?

If anything, she couldn't have misjudged him more. When he said, "How old? Mine's five," she almost stopped breathing.

Locksley didn't look like a single parent (then again, she probably didn't either). He couldn't be interested in children. She had denied the possibility from the start and labelled him as a jerk because it made this thing between them easier to ignore. Her son had always been her way out, and now she couldn't use it.

"Um, Henry's twelve," she hesitated, still slightly stunned by this new piece of information on him.

"Oh, closing in on teenage years. I'm not sure I'll ever be ready for Roland to reach that age." His lively voice was quieter now, and Regina wondered when their 'relationship' had reached the stage where they could discuss their children. She was positive she despised him a few minutes ago.

To her surprise though, she couldn't help the soft yet genuine laugh that escaped her throat at his words. She knew exactly how he felt; she was terrified of the day she would need to have the talk with Henry, and she suddenly thought of how much simpler it would be if she had a man around to help her through that.

"What happened to his mother?" she found herself inquiring. Regina knew she shouldn't have pried, but she had felt the need to ask.

"There were complications after the delivery. She didn't make it," he explained briefly, clearly reliving unpleasant memories. "You?" he echoed her question.

It seemed only fair for her to offer information on Henry's father, or rather lack of one, "There never was anyone. I wanted a child, so I adopted. Henry was three months old."

Her admission surprised her. Of course, it was only partly true. There had been other men in her life, but none mattered, not since she had lost her fiancé before she could walk down the aisle. Since then, everyone she had ever cared about also left her, except for Henry. She couldn't trust her heart to someone again; it was bound to end in heartbreak. She had her son. There was no room in her life for anyone else (or so she tried to convince herself).

The defense attorney didn't say anything, simply offered her a small, compassionate smile.

Regina returned it with one of her own, even though the unexpected serious turn in their conversation had shaken her. She couldn't stay in the room a moment longer.

As she left, she silently prayed her distress went unnoticed.

She didn't mention Robin at all that night.

Regina didn't even think about him until Henry asked how her meeting with the 'insufferable guy' went. Of course, he would know she was scheduled to meet with him today because she had been speaking against him in the car that morning.

"It went well," she offered in a hurry as she got up from the table and disappeared into the kitchen with the dirty dishes.

She had seen the surprise on her son's face at her curt answer. A few days ago she would have ranted about the man for hours, and Henry had to force her to change the subject. Now, she clearly was evading the question.

Robin had gotten too close that day. When her being a single mother didn't push him away, this thing between them suddenly stopped being about physical attraction. It made it far too real, and the likelihood of this being something more wasn't a luxury Regina should contemplate. Including their sons in the conversation had been a bad decision. She shouldn't have told him about Henry in the first place.

If she were honest, she had been lying to herself since the moment he ran into her and made her spill coffee on her clothes. Her nights since then were filled with vivid dreams. She longed for him to touch her in ways that made her back arched and her body sweat. She wanted to be wrapped in his woodman scent while he moaned her name, and he, hers. She often woke up panting in the middle of the night and had trouble falling back asleep.

But it only meant it had been a while and the defense attorney was a very attractive man. There was nothing more to her sleepless nights than pure lust.

It has been so long since she'd had anyone. Her heart had been broken one too many times in the past and throwing herself into something else had been the only solution to avoid the heartache. Most days, it was work. She was a rising star. Her name fell with praise and admiration from everyone's lips, and she had even received international offers, none she would envisage until Henry finished school. She had been able to afford the best education for her son. They lived in a huge house, and she had a life most people would kill for.

"Mom," her son's voice interrupted her thoughts as he joined her in the kitchen, "is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine, Henry," she answered, detached.

The sound of his steps grew louder as he came closer. There was a pause before he questioned her, "Do you like him?"

She abruptly turned on her heels and scolded, "Henry!" Though in truth, she was punishing herself because her son should not be able to guess those things about her (not that he was right, but he had always been too smart for his own good).

In any case, she should not be discussing her love life with her son, especially when there wasn't even a hint of one. It was easier to think that Robin's interest in her was merely his way of unsettling her before the trial. It wasn't real; it couldn't be.

"I'm just saying," her son started, holding up his hands in a peace offering (her tone might have been a little bit harsh), "I don't mind if you do."

Regina leaned back on the counter, crossing her arms. "Why am I having this discussion with you?"

"Because you deserve to be happy."

"Henry, the man thinks himself above others – above the law!" she stated with distaste. "And that speaks much to his character considering it's his job."

"Yet you can't stop talking about him," he pointed out, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

She didn't know what her son expected her to say, so she turned back around and continued filling the dishwasher. "You have homework to do young man," she reminded him, effectively ending their conversation. She was the matriarch in this house and didn't owe him an explanation. Discussing Robin with Henry was not in her plans for the remainder of the evening.

Her son knew better than to push her, but he couldn't hide his disappointment when he walked out of the room with a deep sigh. His footsteps stopped at the doorway however, and he called out to her one last time.

"Don't let work hold you back, mom." And with his last sentence still hanging in the air, he left the kitchen.

Regina paused and waited until she heard the sound of his bedroom door closing before letting out a heavy breath. Her eyes fell shut as she tried to empty her mind of the unwelcomed thoughts, but it was of no use. She couldn't stop thinking about Robin, and it drove her mad.

She also wondered when exactly the distasteful defense attorney became Robin.

She found him the day of the trial.

Since her talk with her son (or rather the half-dozen sentences they had exchanged on the matter), thoughts of Robin invaded her mind and refused to leave. Regina resented the man even more for managing to distract her from the upcoming trial. She was ready, she always was, but he had broken through the thick walls she had raised around her heart. He would pay for it. If his intent was to make her uneasy with all the attention he gave her (she didn't want to give it any other name because this was an infatuation and nothing more and she only needed to get it out of her system), then it seemed only fair to do the same to him.

It was a really bad plan, and she needed to act before she talked herself out of it.

She found Robin rehearsing his plea in a cubicle next to the courtroom and closed the door behind her, shutting out the rest of the world.

He turned to her, and Regina gasped at the expression in his eyes. The playfulness was gone. In its place was an indescribable mix of remorse longing that knocked the air from her lungs. "Ms. Mills," he greeted her before she could say anything, "I'm sorry." That stopped Regina mid-stride, and she stood unmoving a few feet from him. He continued, "I made you uncomfortable the last time we spoke. Asking you out was out of line, and I won't hold you to our deal if you don't wish it."

Her mind reeled. Just when she thought she had finally figured him out, the man did the exact opposite of what she expected. She stared at him blankly, at a loss for words.

But she had found him in this room for one specific reason, and she knew she needed to take action before her conscience took over. (It was still a really bad plan.)

She grabbed fistful of his shirt and yanked him to her, capturing his mouth in one heated kiss. Her hands gripped his clothes tighter, his natural scent filling her nose, and for a few seconds she wondered how she had been able to last so long without this kind of human contact. Nothing had ever felt more right than this.

It was extremely wrong though, because he was defense and she was prosecution and this was their job on the line.

Regina pushed him away before Robin even had time to kiss her back. Ending it swiftly was easier than being rejected for her recklessness, but her hands held on to him, her body and brain apparently not cooperating.

This had been a terrible idea from the start, and she should never have let a twelve-year-old talk her into 'not letting work get in her way'.

She was about to apologize when his arm circled around her back and brought their bodies together, his mouth instantly covering hers. They melded into one another as if they were destined to fit, and he kissed her back with the force of all their previous verbal sparring, weeks of built-up tension exploding as they collided heads in a far more pleasant manner.

Maybe this hadn't been such a bad idea after all.

His hand was in her hair before she knew it, and her own moved up to cup his face, the raw desire building up in her overwhelming. Regina realised how much her imagination had paled in comparison to the feeling of his lips on hers, and she couldn't get enough. His stubble scratched her skin, but she didn't mind (quite the contrary, she liked being able to sense him in more ways than one). Their kisses deepened, a warm sensation filling her stomach. Their mouths stayed fused together, only separating completely when the need for air became intolerable. They always dived right back in as soon as they had caught their breaths; staying apart for too long was unbearable.

They did have a trial to get to however, and it was Robin who remembered before she did after God-knows-how-long they spent in each other's arms. He slowed their pace to gentle pecks on her lips that had her beaming with delight.

Reality dawned upon her slowly. They had made out like teenagers, hidden in a cubicle of the courthouse. This could be a stain on her reputation like no other, but she discovered she didn't care.

"As much as I'd like to continue this, milady," Robin whispered so close she could feel his breath on her skin, "we wouldn't want to be late for court."

Regina decided not to break the moment by scolding him for calling her by that horrible old-fashioned nickname, but promised herself she would do so if he ever again. She hummed her agreement and reluctantly let go of him, smoothing his now wrinkled costume with her hands, which was a bad idea as it meant her hands roamed down his chest (or a really good one considering the strong muscles she could feel under her palms).

Robin apparently had a similar thought because he caught her wrists and stilled her movements, bringing her fingers to his lips. "The D.A. is one evil woman," he teased in between soft kisses on her joints.

She leaned in, breathing in his ear, "You have no idea." She pulled back with a wicked grin, and Regina could only guess that the hunger veiled in his eyes only mirrored the ardour of her gaze. But she pushed the unholy thoughts away; there would be plenty of time for that later. For now, he was right. Their presence was requested in the other room, and she had a trial to win.

"Don't think this means I'll make it easy for you," she warned him with a seductive wink as she turned to leave. She had every intention of convincing the jury she was right, even if the accented voice of the attorney sitting on the other side of the room was enough to make her insides melt.

She could feel his eyes on her as she walked out of the room and heard the smile in his voice.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

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