A/N: Story inspired by British serie Doc Martin (but perhaps a bit darker). I hope you'll enjoy the ride and if you do, reviews are always appreciated and motivating. Rating will change with time. _Ella.
CHAPTER 1: A new doctor in town
This is a good idea.
At least this is what Regina Mills tells herself as she loads the last of her luggage into the trunk of her car.
She closes the door with a small bang and sighs as she glances up at the building that has once accommodated her. She's walking away. That's what her mother has bitterly said over the phone the day she's told her about her plans to leave the city and drop her career as a surgeon all the same.
She isn't, she's attempted to convince herself. She's stayed and tried but the reality remains still. Daniel is dead and she's now a surgeon with a severe case of blood fright. She couldn't have possibly kept on practicing, putting her patients at risk and she couldn't keep on living here either, not with all these memories. Leaving was -is a good option. Starting a new life. A family physician in a small town, away from the city, away from New York, away from the painful reminder that she's alone, that Daniel is gone and that she's failed as a surgeon.
So, yes. This is a good idea.
She brings her index finger to her mouth and bites its side gently, her eyes darting around as she mentally double checks to see if she's forgotten anything.
She doesn't own much. At least, not much she can't live without. She's given out most of Daniel's belongings. His clothes and his drawing tools and materiel…
She isn't an artist. The opposite really. Daniel was a dreamer, he loved to imagine things and let his mind wander. She's more focused, likes to keep her feet on the ground. Sometimes, she wonders what has made the man fall for her, with all her flaws, her quirks… She isn't an easy woman to love, yet, he has loved her.
She hasn't kept much of him. Just a few pictures and one of his sweater. A large grey one that he adored, stained with paints and dried glue. He used to wear it all the time and Regina easily recalls often having had to argue for solid hours before he would accept to let her put it in the washing machine.
She's a neat freak. That's how they call people like her. She likes when things are clean and in order. Daniel understands -understood. He was just very protective of this one sweater, calling it his accidental piece of art.
Along with these, she's bringing an actual piece of art, Awoken Reverie. A large canvas depicting a beautiful landscape. Large trees facing a pond where ducks and birds were swimming. Bright red, purple, and yellow flowers under a pale blue sky trimmed with funny shaped clouds. To the side, completely out of place and randomly displayed there, a lion with a trunk and an elephant with a mane are bathing under the sun. This was Daniel's signature. He's always loved to insert tiny whimsical elements to his work. Why? When she's asked him the question, he's simply shrugged and chuckled, stating that he just lets his hand do the job without questioning its intention.
She loves it. Despite its silliness and cheesiness. It comes from him. It's a little piece of his mind drawn on a piece of paper, just for her.
She looks around one last time. These are her stuff. The ones she's bringing with her into this new life, this new town. And they are all she needs.
This is a good idea.
…
It's raining as soon as she arrives in Boston and she's tired.
She's only made two stops since she's left New York. One at a gas station and the other at a diner, her grumbling stomach having forced her to ignore her general rule to only eat homemade (by her and solely by her) food. But the drive is long and the last meal she's taken was a cup of coffee and an apple for breakfast and despite her small appetite, even she can't go ten hours straight without eating, so she's given in.
She doesn't stop to sleep though. She fears that if she does, that voice in her head -her mother's voice- will get the upper hand and that she'll find herself driving back the other way in the morning. So she drives on and it's early anyway, merely 6p.m. If she keeps her pace, she'll be in Storybrooke by 8 -9 tops. She can manage that.
…
Storybrooke, Maine, is a small town. She knows that much. She's made her research and she knows that its population is of barely 800 people but when she crosses the town line and finds herself in the middle of a giant forest (at least it seems gigantic from the inside of her Mercedes), she wonders if the term "small" isn't a bit of a misguidance.
Large and tall pine trees and other conifers surround her, making it hard to even see the sky. From afar she can almost hear the sounds of wild animals despite the roar of the engine. It almost seems like the place is coming straight out of a storybook. Thinking of it, with its town slogan, It's a Land of Magic, and its name, there's no doubt that whoever has created this town had a liking for fairy tales.
After a good ten-minute-drive through the forest, she finally arrives into a seemingly more populated area. The town in itself is indeed small. On the way to her new office -slash- house, she passes by a harbor, a diner outside which a few customers look up at her with prying eyes, a bed and breakfast, a rather impressive clock tower and a park with a pond. The sight of the latest almost makes her stop, its resemblance to Daniel's painting almost troubling. She quickly shakes the thought away however, not really wanting to draw too much attention. There's a school as well as a shelter for animals that seems to have however been abandoned. She also recognizes a woodwork place and there's no doubt that it's Uncle Gep's one.
Marco is her mother's brother. Regina used to call him Uncle Geppetto, Uncle Gep, because her childhood mind was certain that he looked too much like the old man from the fairy tale book not to be him. After all, he has indeed given her quite a few puppet shows, so the mistake is understandable even for a child as pragmatic as Regina was.
Uncle Gep used to visit a lot when she was younger until he's stopped and no one has ever spoken of him again. She's never known why. Not that she's ever asked. She's always known her place, and adult business wasn't.
He doesn't know she's coming. The thought of calling him has crossed her mind before being replaced by a sentiment of uneasiness. After all these years, it'd have been weird, wouldn't it?
She parks her car in front of the carpenter's house and eyes the inside. The closed sign has been flipped but the lights are still on. Maybe showing up unannounced is just as weird, she thinks, but settling down as a family doctor in the town in which he lives without coming to visit… well, is that much better?
The brunette sighs, brings her index to her mouth and clamps her teeth around it. 1, 2, 3 seconds pass before she unbuckles her seat belt and opens the door. This side of the town is rather quiet compared to the harbor and diner area and she's grateful for that. She isn't quite ready to mingle just yet (or ever). She slides her legs outside of the vehicle and puts her heeled shoes down on the tar road. Breathing in. Breathing out. She stands up and closes the door. Turning around, she can read a sign on top of the façade: Marco Tiraboschi woodworker/handyman. Regina runs her tongue on her lips and bites them before walking towards the building. She slides her hands on the fabric of her jeans, looking down at the knob. Once she finally plucks up the courage to open the door, she finds herself face to face with an amused old man, arms crossed over his chest.
She opens her mouth but closes it almost instantly, her eyes opened widely and he chuckles, shaking his head.
"How long have you been waiting for me?"
She's bewildered but she keeps her demeanor still, looking at him nonchalantly.
"As soon as you've arrived in town," he says simply with a lopsided smile. "People around here have been waiting for a new physician for a while now. So when words came out of a new fancy car registered in New York passing through the town, it wasn't hard to connect the dots."
"It has merely been a few minutes," Regina says, now having a hard time hiding her surprise.
How have people already been talking about her? she wonders, in shock.
"It's a small town," Uncle Gep replies, simply. "People talk."
She nods at that, can't really argue. It's something she'll have to get accustomed to, she guesses. People. She closes her eyes briefly, trying to ignore the stinging shiver of discomfort that runs down her spine. She looks around then and takes in the place. She doesn't enter just yet though, just observes quietly.
She's often imagined what her uncle's house would look like and this is pretty close to what she's had in mind. Granted, she isn't exactly in his house as much as she's in a garage which has been converted into a workshop, but still.
Around her, loads of handmade objects are scattered on the floor. Dusty wooden boards on which tools are hanging and resting are facing her. It makes her rub her hands together and swallow the saliva caught in her throat.
"If I'd known you were coming today, I would have cleaned up a bit," the old carpenter says, almost apologetically, knowing her fondness for tidier places.
"That's fine," Regina assures, straightening her spine as she looks back at him. "How did you know it was me?"
"I have my sources," he replies mysteriously, making his eyebrows wriggle.
There's a small silence then he opens his arms.
"Will you come here?" he asks gently.
"I don't do hugs," she reminds him, biting her lip.
"You used to allow me one, if I recall correctly."
She smiles. Can't help it. She used to allow him one, indeed. To him and him only… and Daniel, as well, much later in years.
She enters the shop and walks up to him, letting him wrap his arms around her. She doesn't embrace him back, lets her arms hang to her sides but he holds her tight and she breathes in the familiar acrid scent of tobacco.
He hasn't changed one bit. He's still her Uncle Gep, the one that used to make her smile after a week spent suffering the mockeries of other children, the one that used to tell her ridiculous stories and would let her stop him at every sentence to argue how unlikely it'd be for Dumbo's ears to be strong enough to carry his weight.
"You still smoke," she points out, quietly.
"Chew," he corrects.
She fights the urge to roll her eyes at that. What's the difference? It'll end up killing him anyway.
There's a small silence and he parts from her, looking into her eyes.
"I've missed you piccola mia," he whispers, stroking her cheek with his thumb.
"You're the one who never came back," Regina deadpans, beyond reproach, just points it out.
He lets his hand fall to his side and gives her a shameful smile.
"I know," he nods honestly before turning around to stand behind his working table. "So, what brings you into our humble town?" he asks from there.
She doesn't mind the change of subject and decides to let it slide. What's done is done, there's no point in dwelling on it.
"I heard you were doing quite well in New York. A renowned surgeon." He looks up and smiles. "I'm proud of you, you know that, right?"
She acquiesces.
Being a surgeon has always been her dream for as far as she can remember. Her father died when she was barely seven. Stomach cancer. A part of her has always felt the desire to cure all diseases because of that and her uncle has always pushed her to fulfill that wish. If it wasn't for him, she would have probably ended up working at her mother's law firm.
"I needed something new," she tells him, moving cautiously, watching her every steps not to walk on some glue or worse.
"Well, I hope you'll find it here."
"So do I."
He smiles and she gives him a meek one back.
He doesn't ask further questions, simply watches her with contentment. He's happy she's here, she can tell. He's missed her. She's missed him as well but has learnt to live with his absence. She's glad to have him back in her life though. It's just -odd.
"I should go," she voices after a clear of her throat. "The drive was long so I want to rest a little."
"Alright," he tells her with a beam. "I'll drop by tomorrow. See if you need anything. The doc's house is old and it might need some fixing."
She nods and he grins anew. He asks her for one last hug and she gives in, making him promise not to ask her for one in the morning. He chuckles but agrees to her request, calling it fair.
…
It's a big house and it surprises her. It might actually be bigger than her former apartment which was quite huge already. But her uncle was right, it's an old house.
When she enters, holding one of her suitcase full of clothes in one hand and her purse and medical bag in the other, she immediately finds herself in a small foyer. She ponders whether or not to put her bags down, for the floor (and the whole room) is quite dusty, before giving in. She'll clean them afterwards anyway.
The small foyer leads to a large space to the left with chairs placed all around, against the walls and a desk on top of which stands an old computer. The waiting room. At the back of this room there are two doors behind which Regina assumes are the examination room and the lavatory.
Opposite this waiting room, there's a kitchen with a large wooden island, fully equipped and leading to a living room. And lastly, facing the front door, there are stairs at the end of which are probably the two bedrooms and one bathroom the mayor has told her about over the phone before excusing himself for not being able to be present to welcome her. She's assured him that it was alright, he's insisted that he would make it up to her. Whatever that means.
It's nice, she supposes. It's alright. Well, it'll be after a bit of dusting and sweeping… she puts a finger on the console by the front door and frowns when it comes out sticky- and scrubbing.
…
She's done cleaning. Almost done. She's in the kitchen now, scrubbing under the hood when she hears the doorbell.
She frowns instantly, wondering who that can be. Carefully sliding off her spot on the counter, she gently lands on the floor. She takes off her gloves and heads toward the front door.
"Hi," a man with a wide smile greets her as soon as she opens.
"Good evening," she says herself, eyeing him in confusion.
He's a tall blonde man with large blue eyes. He is young, younger than her. Maybe in his late twenties. Wearing a plaid shirt half tucked into worn jeans over what seems to be a white tank top, he looks at her expectantly as if she's supposed to have been waiting for him.
"Who are you?" she asks with a brisk tone.
"I'm David, Doc," he says and she tries not to grimace at the diminutive. "Handyman," he continues at her quizzical expression. "Marco sent me. Told me you might need a hand."
Oh.
She looks back inside the house and it's true that she could use a hand. She's having trouble with the running water and there's an unpleasant smell coming from the first floor toilet despite her having cleaned them. She was planning on waiting for tomorrow, for when her uncle would visit, but the sooner the better, she supposes.
She turns to face the young man. He's still smiling and he seems nice. He's already here after all, she might as well use him.
"Come in," she tells him, stepping to the side. "There seems to be a problem with the running water on the first floor. I need it functional because it's where I'll be welcoming my patients."
"Of course. I'll take a look at it," he nods, coming inside. A snicker leaves his lips. "I don't think I've ever seen that place as clean as right now and I've been coming here my whole life."
"I… I just like when things are… neat."
"No worries, Doc. It's fine by me and it's actually nice. People will enjoy coming here."
"Well." She lets out a wry chuckle, closing the door and leading him to the kitchen. "It's not really a place people should enjoy coming to. It's a practice. If they're here, it means that they're sick… There's nothing enjoyable about that."
She stops by the sink and turns around to meet the eyes of an amused David.
"You've never been a family doc in a small town before, have you?"
Regina straightens her spine, folding her arms over her chest defensively.
"I can't say I have."
He laughs again.
"Well, let's just say that from as far as I can remember, apart from Granny's diner, the doc's office has always been the most popular place in Storybrooke. Old people like to visit the doctor," he jokes, winking at her.
People.
Regina swallows, closing her eyes briefly.
"Well, you're a doc. You should know."
"Not really," she murmurs so low she's surprised to see that he's heard her. "I just… I was a surgeon. I used to treat diseases and injuries… Treating patients is a first."
"Oh." He's confused, probably wondering what has made a surgeon become a family physician and she instantly feels embarrassed. "Well don't worry," he tells her then, "People are nice around here. Plus, you're Marco's niece. Everyone adores him so they'll like you too."
"Great," she utters weakly. "Anyway, here's the sink but I'm not sure where the water's main inlet is."
"Don't worry, Doc. I got it."
She cringes. Can't help it.
"It's Doctor," she corrects. "Doctor Mills."
"Oh… Yes. Doctor Mills."
She nods and looks at him for a second before going back to the hood.
It's a good idea. It's a good idea.
…
She thought the handyman would have been her only visitor for the day. She was wrong.
At least ten people have followed, knocking on her door, welcoming her to the new town with pies and other homemade dishes. At the beginning, she refused their attention as gently as she could, telling them that she was a picky eater, but by the time the fifth well-meaning visitor had stopped by, she just gave in and accepted their treats. She'll put them in the trash or give them to that small hairy thing she thinks is a dog that has apparently taken up residence by the dead asters near her front fence. Toto, someone has called him before telling her that it is Dorothy's dog. "A nice girl with a big imagination. Goes to high school in Augusta so she's not around much. The poor thing misses her. She used to work here, helping the doc's receptionist, Ruby. Oh Ruby. You'll meet her soon. Nice girl too but if you want my opinion, she shouldn't go around the town wearing such revealing outfits. She's Granny's granddaughter. Always smiling and kindhearted but a bit of a lush."
Regina sighs as she closes the door on the hopefully last intruder for the day. She shuts her eyes and leans on the wooden piece.
A chuckle startles her and when she looks up she finds David smiling at her.
"Told you. People love to come here." He laughs again. "Anyways, I'm done here," he informs her and it's the one good news of the day.
She follows him to the kitchen and opens the tap. Instantly, water starts flowing and she sighs in relief.
"I unplugged the toilets. It hadn't been used in a while that's from where the smell was coming. Now, it's all good. Oh and I checked your phone line and it's been cut. Since tomorrow is Sunday, it's unlikely you'll find anyone to fix it, but on Monday you should check in with Leroy. He's our town's radio host but he also works with the city hall at times. He'll probably be able to help you."
"Thank you," Regina tells him, grateful, before running a tired hand over her forehead.
"Just doing my job," he beams at her. "I should go. See you around, Doc."
Doctor.
Regina bites her lips and lets herself fall on a kitchen chair. She glances down at her wrist and reads the time on her watch. 10:30p.m. She sighs. She leans over the table and grabs the piece of foil covering one of the dishes she's received and pulls it up.
A small sound of disgust leaves her mouth as she covers the plate of potatoes and -is that cheese?- back. She stands up and leaves the room, heading up the stairs. She needs a shower. A cold one.
Opening her bedroom door, she finds herself face to face with Daniel's painting resting on the headboard. Her heart tightens in her chest instantly.
She walks toward her bed and sits on it. She grabs the hefty canvas and gently lies it down on the mattress. She lets her fingers wander around the frame, stopping on the signature at the lower right corner. Daniel Colter. He would have loved it here. The people. It was his thing. Bonding, talking, block parties…
Have you met our new neighbors? They seem nice. Oh, you should bake one of your delicious apple pies for them.
If I bake them an apple pie they'll feel obliged to cook us something that will end up in the trash.
Or I could eat it.
He'd smirked at her and she'd rolled her eyes. He was like that. He would have loved it here. Maybe, in a way, that's why she's chosen this place. Maybe, subconsciously, it's her way to feel closer to him.
Regina brings a hand to her neck and pulls out a silver chain from underneath her navy blue top. Her gaze lowers and falls upon the silver wedding band attached to it. She strokes it gently before bringing it to her lips, her eyes closing.
A car accident. That's all it took and now he's gone.
Suddenly a loud banging on the front door is heard followed by the ringing of the bell.
"Not again," Regina mutters, pondering on ignoring the disturbance but the bell rings anew and this time it's followed by a pressing 'Doc'.
The brunette pushes the canvas back to rest against the headboard and she stands up. Her brows are knitted together as she climbs down the stairs rapidly to reach the front door. She opens it on a man carrying in his arms a young boy.
The first thing that strikes her is the man's alarmed expression as he rocks the child in his arms. The boy's face is buried into his carrier's neck but he doesn't look much older than five.
"Oh Doc," he exclaims with relief. "I know it's late," the man continues and his British accent surprises her, "it's my boy. He's been feverish all day but I think it's gotten worse."
"The practice doesn't open until Monday," she replies, her eyes darting between the two and stopping on the older one, she realizes that her tone might have seemed a bit insensitive. She closes her eyes briefly, clearing her throat. "I mean, I don't have anything that could help me examine your son," she tells him and he lets a noisy sound leave his nose.
"Please, the hospital is in Brighton… I just…" A small whimper is heard and the boy clings harder to his father before coughing. "Please," he repeats, looking back up at her.
She takes a moment to answer but finally, a sound of approval leaves her mouth as she nods.
The man thanks her, more time than necessary and he steps inside. Immediately, a smell reaches her nostrils as he passes by her. It's subtle and she can't quite put the finger on what it is but it's pleasant and earthy and it makes her heart miss a beat.
Regina closes the door behind him, shaking her head a little and asks the intruder to follow her into her office.
"Lie him there," she dictates pointing at the examination table.
He obeys without wasting a second, whispering what seems to be soothing words to the boy. Regina looks at them, biting her lower lip, something hot twisting inside her lower belly.
"I…" She shakes her head. "I'll be right back. I'm going to get my medical bag."
He doesn't answer, his attention only on the child stirring in discomfort before him. He nods though and she leaves them for a while, heading to the second floor.
When she's back, the blonde man has taken a chair to sit next to his son and he is stroking his curls quietly, pressing a gentle cloth to his forehead.
Regina puts her bag on the desk and pulls out a stethoscope.
"I… I need to check his breathing," she asks and the father looks at her before acquiescing.
He parts from the child causing him to whine a little.
"Don't worry, my boy," he tells him, "The Doc just needs to check your breathing so we're going to lift your shirt a bit for her, ok?"
He doesn't reply but he doesn't resist when his father helps him out of his jacket and tee-shirt.
Regina places the tips of the stethoscope in her ears and positions the diaphragm on the left up part of the boy's chest. He jumps immediately.
"S'cold Papa," he protests, grabbing his father's shirt and scooting away from Regina.
"I know but it'll be over soon. You've just got to stay still," the man tells him before giving her the green light with a nod of his head.
She tries again and he stirs again but stays in place.
"Can he breathe in and out loudly for me?" she asks.
"Do you hear the doc? In and out, just like the yoga lady on the telly, you remember?"
The boy acquiesces and does as he's told.
Regina puts the diaphragm on his right chest then before doing the same on his back. Congested. She nods and puts the stethoscope around her neck. She brings her fingers to feel his neck for swollen glands but there aren't any.
"Does he have trouble eating or drinking?" she asks the father nonetheless. "Does it hurt when he swallows?"
The man frowns, looking down at his son, shaking his head.
"No, not really but he's not been eating much…"
"That's normal. The fever tires him down. It looks like it's just a cold," she tells him after a small pause. "It's pretty common for children to catch it especially with this weather… I'll write you a prescription to treat his fever and the cough and it should relieve him."
He nods, stroking his son's hair.
"I'll stop by at the pharmacist's tonight so he can be treated right away." He glances up at her, a look of uncertainty on his face. "Can you… I know we've just met and that what I'm going to ask you isn't in any way part of your job's description but…"
From that point on, Regina's brows furrow and panic surges inside her body.
"Would you mind keeping an eye on him for me?" he asks without missing a beat.
She opens her mouth but closes it back, completely stunned. She looks at the man, then at the boy and back at the man.
"I can't do that."
"Please, it's just down main street. It'll take me five minutes tops to drive there and five to come back. It's closed but Belle is a lovely girl, I'm sure she'll open if I explain what's happened. I just…" He looks down at his son who was lying back on the table. "I don't want to move him too much."
"Doesn't he have a mother?" Regina inquires before she can stop herself, too preoccupied by the need to find a solution out of this.
"If he did, I wouldn't be asking you," he answers quietly. A beat. "She isn't around right now," he tells her and she feels a wave of guilt quickly wash over her body. "Plus, if there's a problem, he's already with a doctor."
The brunette bites her lip hard, shifting on her feet.
"Fine," she whispers. "I'll watch him."
'Thank you. Thank you so much," he tells her and he flashes her a smile flanked with two dimples.
Regina swallows hard as he stands to walk over to her.
Forest, she recognizes suddenly. His scent. It's of pines and woods. It's male and fresh, faint on him yet she could feel it cling to her skin from the second he's entered the house. He smells like forest.
"I'll be quick as a wink." She blinks her eyes and focuses back on what he's saying. "Just tell me what to get him and I'll be back before you know it."
Her head and lower belly seem to fight two different battles for one scream for her to run while she still can and the other is too busy twirling, almost making her blush.
She ignores them both however and she nods. She goes to grab her notebook and write him a prescription before tearing the paper and handing it to him.
"Thank you," he says with that smile again before going back to his son. "Hey, my boy," he whispers, "you've got to stay a little bit with the doc…"
He looks up at her and it takes a handful of seconds for her to realize that he's waiting for her name.
"Doctor Mills… Doctor Regina Mills."
"Doc Regina," he continues and her heart jumps in her chest at the way her name rolls on his tongue. "You'll be a good boy, huh?" The boy nods and his father smiles. "I'll be here before you have time to miss me."
"Ok Papa." He coughs "Come back quickly."
"I will." He kisses his son's forehead and now he's back before her.
This time he's closer. Too close, really and it makes her suddenly defensive, the hair of her neck rising.
She doesn't like when people stand so close to her. She's never liked it. It makes her uncomfortable and self-conscious… It reminds her of her mother, when she used to berate her. Regina closes her eyes, her jaw clenching and she takes a few steps back from him.
When she opens her eyes back, she realizes that he's also stepped back having noticed her discomfort. He smiles and she finds herself relaxing a little even for a short bit.
"Robin." She frowns and he smiles again. "My name. It's Robin. And he's Roland. I thought you should know now that you've been hired as our new sitter."
He chuckles at her confused face.
"I'm joking."
She scoffs.
Hard to believe that not five minutes ago he was almost crying, begging her to examine his son. Now, he is joking.
"Thanks again," he tells her more seriously, "and I promise to be back soon."
Regina watches him leave the office and cross the waiting room towards the foyer. She lets out a sigh, her shoulders dropping when she hears the door closing itself.
She turns her attention back to the boy lying on the table.
He's looking at her with round brown eyes, his index and middle finger inside his mouth, sucking on them. She wrinkles her nose at that. He's more alert than before but he stills looks tired.
She walks up to him and puts the back of her hand on his forehead. She grabs the cloth his father has brought with them and is about to go to the toilet to wet it a little when his voice stops her. It's more of a mumble than actual words but she can make out the two syllables Gi and Na. She turns back to look at him and he has one arm stretched toward her.
She frowns in confusion.
"I'm just going to wet this," she explains but he keeps his arm lifted towards her. "You… You want me to carry you?" she asks, eyes wide open in horror.
He nods and she freezes.
"No," she tells him and immediately she sees his eyes starting to water. "No, don't cry…"
She sighs, biting her lower lip.
This is a good idea.
She walks up to the boy and puts her hands under his arms, lifting him. He wraps his legs around her waist and leans his head on her shoulder. She hears a pop and immediately feels his fingers dipped in saliva against her collarbone.
Regina clamps her teeth hard into her lips, closing her eyes.
"Thank you, Gina" she hears him say and then he has his fingers back in his mouth.
A good idea.
…
He hasn't lied and in ten minutes, he's back with the necessary medicine for his son. However, the boy hasn't been as patient as she has, and he's soon fallen asleep, curled up against her, on the couch.
She hasn't dared move. Not even when she's heard the knock on the door followed by rushed footsteps on the wood tiles.
"Where are you?" she hears him ask but is unable to answer.
Sweat has been dripping down the back of her neck for minutes now, the small lump wrapped around her making it hard for her to even breathe normally.
The terror and discomfort she's feeling must surely show on her face because when the boy's father finally finds his way to them, in the living room, he raises his eyebrow in confusion looking between her and the child he's abandoned to her care. Her care. Of all people.
"You're not much of a child person, are you?" he asks, jokingly before walking up to release her from his son's grip.
And she breathes out.
She doesn't pick on his question and he doesn't seem to be expecting an answer either way.
He looks down at his boy and gently wakes him up.
"Hey, my boy," he whispers and the boy in question (Roland. His name is Roland) stirs before looking up into his father's eyes. "Here. I've got you your medicine. Why don't you take them and then you can sleep all the way back home?"
"I don't want the m'dicine, Papa," Roland argues, his lower lip quivering.
"But it will make you feel better. You'll be all bright and up and maybe even able to go to the harbour tomorrow," he bargains with a playful grin.
Regina watches the exchange with great attention and she's surprised when the boy agrees to his father's bargain so easily.
The blonde man smiles with satisfaction, pulling the cough syrup out of the plastic bag.
He takes all his medicine without wincing and soon he's relaxing into his father's embrace, closing his eyes to fall back into a profound slumber.
"Thank you."
His voice brings her out of her reverie and she looks from child to father.
"For watching him. And I'm sorry for having asked so much from you already… You've not even officially started working yet…"
"That's alright," Regina dismisses.
It isn't but she knows that saying so would be considered rude so she swallows it in.
"Will we be seeing you at the fair tomorrow?"
"I wasn't aware there was a fair tomorrow," she deadpans more to herself before responding with a simple, "Probably not."
"That'd be a shame. The school has been in charge of decorating and managing some of the stalls for years now and I must say -we've outdone ourselves this time," he says, a smug smile gracing his lips.
"You're a teacher?" she asks with a raise of her brow.
She doesn't know why but it surprises her. Maybe she's expected him to be a forest warden or something like that. His redolence probably.
"I am," he acquiesces and she can see pride welling into his eyes as he does so. "It's a very fulfilling job but you probably know what I mean."
"I guess," she says and he frowns. It's subtle and quick but she notices before he shakes it away and plasters his dimpled grin back on his face. In his arms, the boy stirs a little and his father shushes him gently, kissing his forehead. Then, he peers back into her eyes and she feels her heart flutter painfully in her chest.
Perhaps it's the different lighting or because she's finally fully recovered from her off-the-cuff babysitting gig but she is just now realizing just how blue and deep his eyes are. How has she missed it before?
It's like looking into the ocean…I like it. I hope to never have to stop looking into them.
She can almost feel Daniel's fingers against her cheek and see his face lit up with a smile at her comment…
"Doc? Regina? Doctor?"
The brunette shakes her head and looks up, a bit disoriented.
"You seemed lost into deep thoughts."
"I…was," she trails off, "but it's not important."
She stands up and clears her throat, this little drive down memory lane having shaken her a bit.
"Right," The blonde man says, standing up in turn, careful not to wake the sleeping Roland. "Anyways, thank you again Doc. I don't know what I would have done without you." He smiles down at his son then back at her. "I really hope to see you tomorrow. Everyone will be there; it could be the perfect occasion to introduce yourself. I know… I know I'd be happy to see you."
He smiles.
"I don't really…" She bits her lower lip with uncertainty, not really knowing how to phrase it or if she should bother phrasing it at all. "People…" She glances up. "They aren't my thing," she confesses and she expects him to laugh or look at her with shock and incomprehension like everyone usually does but instead he keeps on smiling and nods.
"Well, at least you'll know Roland and I and if you need saving from all those inquiring minds… I promise to sneak you out."
He chuckles at his own words and gives her a wider grin.
"See you tomorrow. At least, I hope so. Goodbye, Doc"
He smiles one last time and turns around, out of the room and soon out of the house.
As for Regina, she stays still for a moment, a bit taken aback by this man and all that he is.
It's Doctor.