This is AU in that it's set in a time period where the OQ relationship isn't very established, Marian is still dead (she seems great, really, but I just don't want to deal with her), and Frozen has definitely NOT come to Storybrooke. Just a bit of fluff for our favorite couple.
Of course.
Of course, the air conditioning in her office has broken during the worst heat wave of the summer.
The first few days weren't so bad. Regina worked from her office at home. But eventually things piled up and there was no avoiding it; she had to get in at least one day's worth of solid work at the town hall. All of her paperwork is here, all of the files on her computer (which, it turns out, pumps hot air into the space under her desk), all of the information on the town budget (not that anyone was submitting their reports on time, but just because no one else is punctual doesn't mean she has to lower her own standards). Oh why didn't she agree to let Henry link her home and office computers? What did he call it? Syncing it to a cloud? It sounded preposterous. What was a sinking cloud supposed to be a metaphor for anyways?
Regina sighs and tries to refocus on the spreadsheets in front of her. If only she really could just magically fix the AC, as was suggested when she put in a request for it to be fixed. Her magic could fix many things. Unfortunately, one has to know how something works in order to fix it, and Regina hasn't a clue about the AC. In fact, having central air, she isn't even entirely sure where the damn unit is located.
Ergo, three days after walking into a sweltering hot office, nothing has changed. It appears that even though she is (sometimes begrudgingly) considered a hero, she still isn't high on anyone's list of people to help and the heat wave has caused more than a few problems around town that are being dealt with first. And she can't even threaten anyone into putting her first now!
So here she sits. 11:30 on a Thursday. Windows open, two fans, endless paperwork, and endless attempts at staving off the heat.
Her jacket was the first to go. It was lightweight, necessary to complete Regina's ensemble today, and seemed like a fair decision when in the comfortably cool atmosphere of her home. She was wrong and the jacket is now draped over the back of a chair at her meeting table, deposited before she even made it to her desk that morning. The second attempt was losing her black stockings and high heels. The stockings are now balled up in the top right drawer, the heels pushed back to a far corner underneath her desk. This leaves Regina in a black, knit, pencil skirt (which naturally ends just above her knees, but is currently pushed halfway up her thighs) and a grey, sleeveless, blouse. The blouse is fairly thin and has less draping layers than her usual attire but Regina reasoned that it was acceptable with her jacket. After all, even a queen had to allow some concessions in this god-awful weather. To top it off, she had pulled her hair back into a high pony tail, one lock of too-short hair pushed behind an ear (and a constant source of annoyance when it refuses to stay there).
She's just about to throw in the towel for the day, knowing it will only get hotter over the next few hours, when there's a knock at the door. She's too startled to worry about her appearance when she invites the knocker in and then too surprised afterwards, because as soon as the door has opened wide enough Roland has squeezed his way in and is running towards her desk with an exuberant "Gina!"
Regina registers his father slipping in after him and closing the door, but her attention is on Roland as he climbs into her lap. She allows him one good hug before sitting him on her desk and moving papers away from him. She adores the little boy, but nothing will convince her to hold a veritable heater in her lap today. She leans forward and places a kiss on his forehead, wiping away a lipstick smudge before sitting back in her chair.
"And how are you today, Sir Roland?"
"I'm fine," he scrunches his nose as he looks at her, "your hair is diff'rent," and he leans forward, reaching out one hand to touch the lock that has fallen in front of her face for a moment.
Regina raises her eyebrows, amused and hears Robin clear his throat (to hide a chuckle?) and say Roland's name in a mildly warning tone. The boy may not understand the complex rules of etiquette but he knows what that tone means and he amends, "but I like it. You look pretty," and before Regina can thank him for the compliment his hand is in his own hair. "Papa says I need a haircut. He said I'm a mop!"
Regina laughs then and diverts her attention to his father who reaches forward and lifts Roland off her desk in one swift, effortless motion; throwing the boy over his shoulder and causing peals of laughter to erupt out of him.
"You little liar! I said your hair was like a mop," Robin defends himself and Regina feels a pull behind her naval at the smile he directs at her while meeting her gaze. Then he's twisting Roland around again, dipping him backwards and making him squeal before settling to hold him under one arm like a football. Regina can't contain her smile at the sight of them and she doesn't bother trying.
"Now why don't you tell Regina why we're here, monkey?" And then both merry men focus on her at once and the sight of all those dimples has her practically melting in her chair from something other than the weather. She raises one eyebrow at Robin before folding her hands in front of her and looking to Roland.
"Do you want to get ice cream with us?" He all but shouts the question in his excitement and Regina permits a slight chuckle to escape.
It doesn't take much thought. Spend the afternoon in her sweltering office or find relief with two of her favorite people in Storybrooke. She replies that she would love to and Roland begins wiggling until his father sets him down. He then begins tugging on Robin's hand with a "come on" to which he receives a laugh in response.
"You go on outside Roland, we'll be there in a moment," but before the little boy can dash away his father tugs his hand and regains his attention, bending down so they're eye-level with each other. "But no further than the front steps." When that message sinks in he lets go, tousles the boy's hair, and watches him run to the door, skid to a stop, pull it open, and then he's out of sight.
When he turns back to Regina she's standing, still looking at the door with a smile, and he takes the moment to fully appreciate what this heat wave has gifted him with. She's showing more skin than usual for her business attire and it all looks gloriously soft and damp, proof of that lies in the darkened spot of fabric at the (low) scooped neck of her blouse, between her breasts. His eyes return to her face just as she looks back to him and he notes that her smile doesn't fade.
"I had heard that your," he falters, "air conditioning?" she nods, he used the correct words, and he continues, "had broken. We thought ice cream would make a good break." Robin moves one hand to the back of his neck as he looks at the papers strewn across her desk, "I hope this isn't bad timing."
"No, it's perfect," Regina puts his mind at ease. "I was actually just thinking of taking a break. I can't concentrate in this heat. I may come back later tonight when it's cooled off a bit." She looks down at her desk, hands on her hips, and sighs. "Just give me a moment to organize this mess and we can go," she catches his nod before she begins to sort things into stacks.
"Take your time," Robin says the words without thought, but quickly realizes he really does want her to take her time. Before, her top had merely shown a shadow of cleavage. Now, she's bent over her desk at precisely the right angle for him to see directly down it. He swallows and pushes his fingers into his jean pockets. He can see the generous swell of her breasts almost (but not quite) touching, cupped by black lace. There's a light sheen of sweat on her chest, but it beads in her cleavage and Robin has a desperate urge to lick her there, to sip at her skin and give her love bites. He averts his gaze to her visage, watching as she straightens and pushes that errant lock of hair behind her ear again.
She gives him a quick grin, says she's all set, and begins to move around the desk before stopping abruptly. Robin swears she blushes a little before she turns to him, says "excuse me", and then she's dropping to her knees and crawling under her desk. His brow furrows in confusion, but he leans forward on his toes to see bare feet, bare calves, and then the enticing curve of her ass. He hears a bump and an "ow!" before she's crawling back and using the chair to push herself back up, dropping a pair of shoes in the seat along the way.
"Are you alright, milady?" Robin inquires, genuinely concerned, for she's wearing a slight grimace and holding one hand on the back of her head.
"Fine," is all she gives back, but then he's distracted again. The bump to her head was nothing to worry about but, evidently, it mussed up her hair. He's mesmerized as he watches her pull the tie from her hair and slips it around her wrist, fluffing and combing her fingers through the dark strands before pulling it back up into the pony tail. The movement has her back arching and her brow furrowing as he sees the shorter pieces escaping from the tie the moment she adjusts it to how she likes. She picks up the shoes with two fingers and finally makes it around the desk to stand in front of him.
"These," she holds out the offending items and looks from them to Robin, "were a mistake today."
Robin looks to the shoes (black, high, high heels) and then down to Regina's bare feet. He allows his gaze to travel up those lovely calves, her wonderfully fitted high-waisted skirt, her blouse, pauses for a split-second at her red lips, to her eyes. He allows her a moment to see the desire in his eyes, watches as comprehension dawns in her own, lets her see how affected he is by the (unintentional) show he's just received.
There's a brief moment where Regina's taken aback by the look in Robin's eyes, but then she recovers. She smirks and takes another step forward, licks her lips to draw his attention to them and he falls for it. He doesn't notice right away when she's handed one shoe out to him and it isn't until she asks, "would you mind?" that he looks down and takes it, acquiescent in his confusion.
"Thank you," she murmurs and then she rests one hand on his shoulder for balance as she slides one heel onto a foot. She feels him tense beneath her touch and smirks again. He wasn't expecting it. She takes the other heel from his limp grasp and slides that on too, then straightens and looks back up at him (though not as far up as she'd had to look before). "Something wrong, Robin?" Regina asks innocently, glancing down to his jeans, across his well-fitted (although what doesn't fit him well?), moss green t-shirt, and again to his eyes, a look of mock worry on her face. As though she has no idea what she's done to him.
She doesn't expect the lopsided grin that pulls at his lips or the twinkle in his eye. But, mostly she is surprised by his hands which reach to her waist and tug her closer. His hands are large, fingertips just meeting in the center of her back, and it makes her feel petite. The hand not on his shoulder comes to his chest as he eases her forward so there's only a foot of space between them. Regina's breath catches in her throat when his gaze drops to her lips right before she hears a "hey!" from down the hall, followed by the patter of little feet running towards them. She removes her hands from Robin, but he only allows her half a step back and his hands stay on her waist.
Regina looks to the door as Roland pokes his head in and yells, "aren't you guys coming!?"
"We'll be right there, m'boy," Robin responds to his son, but his eyes don't leave Regina as he hears an exaggerated sigh and the sound of feet stomping back down the hall. Perhaps later Roland will ask why his papa was holding the queen, but for now he's too caught up in the thought of chocolate ice cream to care.
Regina's attention finally returns to Robin and she clears her throat, pushing her hair behind her ear although it hasn't fallen out of place. "We shouldn't keep him waiting."
Robin lets her escape then and as she's picking up her jacket and purse from where they hang on a chair he says, "Roland's right," and she turns back to him with a questioning look. "You look very pretty today."
And she blushes just a little and he sees that genuine smile bloom again, creating a pleasant clenching in his chest for a moment.
Then she's smiling coyly at him once more. "You don't look too bad yourself," she responds and looks him up and down again quickly, "for a thief." With that, she throws her jacket over one shoulder, hooked on a finger, carrying her purse in her other hand, and saunters towards the door, emphasizing the sway of her hips. She bites her lip on a wide smile as she hears a groan from behind her.
Robin follows behind, not bothering to hide the fact that he's watching her ass now as there's no one to see, and has one thought: "Watching this woman eat ice cream is going to be the death of me."