Regina's cat form came in handy more often than Robin might have originally thought.

For one, it made for a rapid getaway each time they were nearly discovered together. Robin was not terribly keen on keeping what they had such a secret from everyone else (Roland most of all, knowing how the boy would have smiled and singsonged an "I told you so" at him).

But Regina was a deeply private person, and all of this still so new to them both in some ways, that Robin could understand why she might be reluctant to suffer any more well-meaning comments from Snow about things like happiness and "making the most" of what she had.

Fear, he thought, might have had something to do with her reticence too – either that this would all prove too good to be true (and certainly even he had to pinch himself from time to time), or perhaps that it wouldn't at all, which he suspected might be just as frightening a prospect to her.

But Robin was happy, in a way that he never thought would be possible, so he could hardly find it in him to protest, each time he leaned in to kiss her again only for a hissing black feline to suddenly spring off down the hall as some unwelcome party turned the corner behind him.

"Got yourself a new pet there?" asked the Prince in a curious tone, and Robin sent up a silent thanks to the gods that Regina was not close enough to properly maim either of them.

Hiding in plain sight also gave her the freedom to move as she pleased; there were enough strays in the castle that no one thought twice of her prowling about. Roland, of course, could not help but favor her more than the others. Pepper and Pinecone – and Pumpkin, when autumn fell and All Hallows drew near – were perfectly all right companions. But when it came to storytime with Robin, only one cat was welcome to a front row seat in Roland's lap, even letting Robin scratch behind her ears when no one else was paying attention.

"What's that one's name?" asked John, pointing one night to the soft purring lump that Roland was cuddling by the fire. Robin was about to respond with something horribly uninventive, a Midnight or (even worse) a Majesty that might have given her away in an instant, if not for Roland speaking up with a warning look in his papa's direction.

"Toothless," he declared, like it was so obvious, while Regina gave a wide yawn that showed off all her little fangs.

"Huh," said John, frowning thoughtfully as she tucked her paws beneath her chin, looping her tail around Roland's toes.

"Don't look at me," shrugged Robin. "I'm just as clueless as you are."

Snow White was the only one he had some legitimate concerns about learning their secret. Regina, he knew, felt the same; while she was perfectly content to have him hold her in front of the others, even purring at him on occasion, the moment the Princess entered the room Regina would sink her claws everywhere and vault indignantly out of his arms like he'd put her there against her will.

"You know that's exactly the sort of behavior she'd expect of you as a human," he tried reasoning with her one night, relaxing into a pile of pillows while she fussed over some scratches she'd left on his forearms. "Perhaps you're only giving her another reason to suspect something's changed."

"You don't know her like I do," sighed Regina, frowning impatiently when he grabbed up one of her hands to brush a few kisses there. "And she knows me, and she'll know that I—"

"That you what?" Robin teased, tugging her down into him. He nudged the tip of his nose against hers, enjoying the way it wrinkled at him in response. "That you like me?"

"You must have me confused with someone else," she sniffed, planting her hands on his chest and pushing in a way that was not terribly convincing. "I don't like anyone."

"No, of course not," Robin said softly, reaching up to cup her cheek in his palm. She leaned into his touch, shutting her eyes with a quiet little hum of approval. He closed the distance from his mouth to hers, a warmth settling deep into him as she parted her lips with a sigh, and yes, he thought – she could pretend, just a while longer, that like was a thing they didn't do with each other.

(It wasn't, not really. It could not even begin to touch everything he felt for this woman, and though she would never admit it, he knew – she was only capable of feeling things with all of her heart, in all of its raw, wild beauty, and he already loved her for that alone.)

So Robin took advantage of her cat form whenever he could get away with it, each time he caught her slinking past him in the hall or arching her back against the leg of his chair. He scooped her up the way he would have much liked to do with her as a human, trying not to smile when she mrrowed in displeasure and then promptly curled into his chest.

"Hey there, Toothless," John had taken to greeting her, reaching past Robin to pat at her forehead while she lazily blinked those big dark eyes at him. "Aren't you a beaut," and she would turn her nose up in a haughty but satisfied manner, even letting him offer her saucers of cream from time to time.

"It appears that flattery will get you everywhere with this one," Robin remarked, dodging the paw she batted at his face and chuckling to himself when she raised her tail high and pranced off to see what Roland was doing.

The other Merry Men were a bit sweet on her too, Robin had begun to notice, always bickering over who could be the first to pet her each time she ventured amongst them (Friar Tuck would win every round). Regina seemed taken aback by their attentions, but not, thought Robin, displeased, and so he would only smile and sit back while they tried to engage her.

Her aloofness and her refusal to play with any of the things they held out to her were actually immensely charming to them, all the more so when Snow White got the most withering stare of all for her efforts.

This delighted the Merry Men to no end. "Not even impressed by royal folk, are you?" boomed Little John, sounding pleased by the fact. "Me either, Toothless. Me either," and he winked and slid her a bony fish tail he'd clearly been saving for her, which Robin hastily got rid of when Regina turned and gave him a look.

The cat did not join them at mealtimes, of course, though Robin's men asked after her often. He would steal an occasional glance at the royal table where she sat in all her splendor, looking terribly regal and terribly alone, even when Snow or the Prince had bent her ear in conversation. Always Robin kept a seat open beside him for her, and though he sometimes caught her looking almost wistfully toward his table, she never took him up on the invitation.

"They like you, you know." He ventured to bring it up again one evening as they patrolled the grounds together. These were the moments he liked best, just the two of them in the moonlight with nothing but forest around them, when he knew she wouldn't scoff at him for taking her hand and kissing her in the open like this.

"As a cat, maybe." She sounded – dare he say – the slightest bit sulky, and he pulled back for a better look at her. "If they found out who Roland's new pet actually is, I'm sure I could tell you who would be the first to pull out his pitchfork and – do whatever it is you people think you're supposed to do with those."

Robin shook his head. "They might surprise you. John in particular." He tugged her gently back to him when she kept on walking, winding an arm around to her side and tipping her chin up until she glared him in the eye. "Besides, it's no secret how Roland feels about you." He smiled crookedly at her. "The human you, even."

Regina pursed her lips, stubborn as ever. "I doubt they'd approve."

His mouth tipped down in a frown, and he regarded her a bit more seriously than before, making her shift and look away from him again. "Is that what all the hiding's been about? I didn't realize this bothered you so."

"Bothered? Please," she sniffed immediately, and he let the subject drop, not wanting to nudge away at all her defenses when they could finally have this time alone together.

"There's a creek up ahead," Robin told her, bumping a playful hip into hers as they resumed their walking, and she gamely looked where he was pointing with a mostly patient expression on her face. "Perhaps when the weather has warmed back up, you and I could…" He trailed off with a suggestive arch of his brow, tightening his arm at her waist and swaying her closer to him.

Her mouth pressed into a stern line, but the darkening glint in her eye gave her away, the dip of her voice as she asked him, "Are you propositioning me, thief?"

He grinned outright, biting into his lower lip as he leaned in to brush a kiss to her ear. "Oh, absolutely." She shivered to his touch, a faint rosy tinge rising up the delicate lines of her throat, and it would never cease to floor him, that a woman who'd turned realms inside out could blush this way on his account.

"I think you're getting ahead of yourself," she informed him, just breathlessly enough to be entirely unconvincing, and she bent her head back with a sigh, exposing more of her throat to him.

Robin nuzzled a kiss below her jaw, lips parting for a brief taste before moving lower. "I can stop, if you like."

She turned an indignant gaze on him. "How else do you expect me to stay warm out here?"

"Ah," he said, in a very grave tone as he straightened and tried not to let his smirk show. "You wound me, milady. Is that all I am to you?"

Regina only shrugged and blinked prettily at him, drawing him forward while slinking carefully back until he was fairly pinning her against the trunk of an elm. She tugged at the ends of his cloak, tucking herself snugly in, and then she circled her arms around his middle, bringing him even closer to her.

"Is that better?" Robin asked her dryly as she snuggled up along the length of his body, her breasts swelling high in her corset and pressing up to his chest each time they both breathed in.

"I think there's still some room for improvement," she murmured, lashes growing heavy as her tongue peeked out to wet her lips, and the smile she gave him was half shyness, half sin.

He thought he'd never loved her more fiercely than he did in this moment, and he wanted to simply take her all in, with the moon in her hair and that warmth in her gaze she'd once kept locked away from him.

A warmth that was starting to cool a bit at the edges, it seemed, when she huffed out an exasperated sound and informed him rather tartly, "You'd better kiss me at least once before John shows up to relieve you."

"Oh," said Robin, with a knowing smirk as he leaned over her, feeling her shift in anticipation, "What are you suggesting, exactly? Should I be worried, about you and John?"

"Well if you're not up for the job," she said, looking away with a coyly measured expression, and he had to bite his lip to keep from smiling at her again.

He shook his head with a badly feigned sigh, and said most regretfully to her, "I'm not sure you're his type."

"What, evil?" Regina returned, her voice terribly wry.

"No. Not evil." He cupped a palm over her cheek, snaking his other arm around to settle a hand at at the small of her back. She was slighter than she looked, beneath the fire and the four-inch heels, and it was one of the many things he loved to discover again and again about this woman. "But very much taken, I'm afraid."

"Is that right?" breathed Regina, lashes fluttering shut as he trailed the tip of his nose from her brow to her temple. His lips brushed over her ear in the barest of kisses, stretching into a grin when she gave a slight shudder in response.

"Mm." Robin nipped at her earlobe, slipping his tongue out to tease her some more. "I like to think so, anyway," and he took her hum for one of agreement, feeling her spine arch and arch as he dipped down to sample the skin at her throat.

She stood on her toes to press their bodies even closer, letting her head fall back to grant him better access as she mused, "Well, you are a thief."

He paused above her collarbone, sucking a last open-mouthed kiss there before pulling back with a wounded expression. "Begging your pardon, milady," he corrected her gravely, "but I didn't steal anything."

"No," Regina smiled, touching her fingers to his jawline, the corner of his mouth. "No, you didn't."

He gathered her up as she pulled him down, and their lips met, moving heatedly together before parting in a tangle of tongue. She pressed herself back into the tree, and he followed, feeling the way she relaxed her weight beneath him, how everything seemed to fall perfectly into place when he kissed her and then kissed her some more. She wound an arm around his neck, nails scraping bluntly into his scalp and sending little shocks of desire down into his belly, her other hand still holding the side of his jaw, fingertips lingering where his mouth angled hungrily over hers.

He could perish this instant, he thought, right here in her arms, and nothing would have felt more right.

That is, until Robin heard the echoing snap of a twig some distance down the path from them, and there was a predictable stiffening in his arms, Regina shoving some space back between them with a half-dazed expression of panic.

"Was that—?" She glanced around, hands fisting into his tunic.

"Probably just some rabbit," said Robin.

He thought, rather fondly, that he'd never been glared at in such a violent fashion before.

"Some rabbit named John?" Regina demanded, refusing to soften when he took her hands into his.

"Perhaps it's time he knew," Robin tried to reason with her, letting his hands drop back down with a sigh as she pushed him away from her.

"Today is just not going to be that day," she told him snippily, untangling herself from his cloak and stepping out onto the grass with another paranoid look at their surroundings.

"I'm not ashamed of being with you, Regina."

She froze at this, finally jerking around to stare at him like he'd betrayed her somehow, lending a voice to these dark fears that he hadn't been sure she felt until now.

"Maybe you should be." Her eyes were dark and unreadable.

"You ought to know as well as I that that's not going to happen. And you can't deny how happy we are when we're together. At least I can't. Nor do I want to." Robin shrugged helplessly when she only went on staring at him, wishing he knew how to reach her. "But if it's the other way around – if there's something about me that shames you in some way—"

She shook her head then, looking upset. "No," she said vehemently, taking a half-step toward him. "How can you even think that?"

Before he could respond, another branch snapped, some leaves gave a rustle, and then a familiar voice was shouting jovially out to announce his arrival. "Robin! That you?"

He gazed at Regina, still hovering there like she had to explain, and he could only smile gently at her when she took a deep breath and the words made no sound coming out.

"You should get going," he told her.

Robin stepped back as the smoky tendrils of her magic spiraled up and up around her, engulfing her in a storm cloud of purple. She was already gone by the time it cleared, the quiet swoosh of some foliage ahead the only sign he heard of her departure.

Sighing, he began to trudge up the path back to her castle, feeling just a tad foolish that he already missed her, and wondering when – if ever – they'd be able to talk about this without her fleeing in the other direction again.

He was brushing aside an overgrown fern when he heard it: a distressed little mew in the distance, and then John's voice calling anxiously out, "Gods alive – Robin, you'd better come quick!"

He would swear later it was a sound that nearly stopped his heart right there. He had no recollection of processing any of it, only that his feet moved faster than he'd ever known them capable, and within seconds that stretched too torturously long, he found them.

John was crouched down by an overturned log when Robin burst through the trees, feeling half-wild with dread. He came to a halting stop, catching his breath while his friend rose back to his feet with a quivering bundle of fur in his arms.

Regina turned those large, round eyes on Robin and let out a plaintive meow.

"She caught her paw in that hollowed out bit of bark," John was saying, "Looks like she might've been running from something," though Robin only half-heard him as he reached out of instinct for her.

"It doesn't appear to be a bad injury," added John in a soothing way, gingerly transferring her over to Robin.

"Re—" he abruptly cleared his throat before coughing his way around the rest of her name. "Right. I mean. Right." He paused, acutely aware of the odd way John seemed to be looking at him. "Are you? All right?"

She was holding one of her front paws out in a delicate manner, twitching it back only a little when he ran a thumb over the top and then down to examine the small button pads of her toes, all of which were perfectly intact.

"Oh thank the gods," Robin exhaled, hardly caring when she shook her paw free and looked disinterestedly away, like he'd embarrassed her by being dramatic. "I was afraid something had…" He bent over her, burying his nose into her fur and murmuring there, "Let's not part on those terms again, yeah?"

Regina didn't appear to be paying a bit of attention to him, but then he felt the low purring hum of her body, the softness of her tail as she brushed it up against his jaw for a moment before curling the length of it over his shoulder.

"We should get you back to the castle and have a proper look at that h—that paw of yours."

"I'm sure Her Majesty could fix it right up," said John.

Robin nodded. "Yes. Of course." He secured Regina more firmly to his chest, but it seemed she had other plans, suddenly balancing both paws on his chest and stretching upward to rub her forehead against his chin. "What on earth has gotten into you?"

John was eyeing them more and more curiously, and Regina was not helping matters at all, pressing a cold nose to Robin's neck and mrrowing impatiently when he didn't pet her right away. Honestly, of all the times to start acting affectionate towards him, now would not have been his first choice.

"Your cat's behaving rather strangely," John remarked. "Even for her."

"Understatement." Robin wrapped his hands around her rib cage, lifting her up onto her hind legs (she hated being held this way, he knew, with her front paws stuck in a kind of silly salute). He leveled her with a pointed expression. "It's time to go home."

But she put a paw on his mouth as though to shush him, and then she did the most unusual thing of all, which was to swivel her head back and stare straight at John.

"Can I help you?" asked John a bit cautiously.

Robin frowned, only half-joking when he wondered, "Are we certain she didn't injure her head as well?" Regina turned a testy eye on him before looking at John again, tail whipping expectantly back and forth.

"It feels like you're trying to tell me something," John noted dryly, and Robin could only shake his head at him in answer.

He was folding her back up in his arms when she gave a telltale wriggle, claws digging into his vest, and then she launched herself off of him, landing gracefully on the forest floor. She sat her bottom down, rearranging her feet while continuing to gaze unblinkingly up at John, and Robin was about to coax her back when he saw the purple smoke unfurling around her, crackling with the light of her magic.

"Regina—!" Aghast, he rushed forward just in time, throwing the edges of his cloak around her body as she rematerialized before them in all her bare human glory. "You really can't do your transformation thing into some clothes for a change?"

"You've never complained before," said Regina, "so I never bothered to fix that part of the spell," as though he were being the ridiculous one, when she was standing naked in the woods with John not three feet away, gaping at them.

Oh, gods. John.

Robin tried very hard to avoid looking too directly at him and focused instead on tightening his cloak around Regina, attempting to trap in some of the heat. He didn't like the way she was already shivering slightly, and the disapproval must have shown on his face because she was moving a tentative hand to his cheek then, tracing out one downturned edge of his mouth.

"I thought I would tell him," Regina said quietly. "About…us." She didn't say it like a question, exactly, but there was a note of uncertainty to her tone at the end, and all he wanted to do in that moment was kiss her and kiss her until she couldn't doubt this any longer.

"This was certainly one way of accomplishing that," said Robin, yielding with a lopsided smile, and he touched his lips to her brow, lingering there as he watched her fiddle with the lapels of his tunic. "Wait a moment," he said then, in a faintly accusatory fashion. "Your hand is totally fine, isn't it."

Regina turned demurely away, facing John at last, and Robin hurriedly wrapped his arms across the front of her, endeavoring to leave as little exposed as he could. He felt her straighten, her shoulders almost defiantly squared as she started to speak, and then, in a very different voice than what Robin had been expecting, she said to John, "You…don't look surprised."

Indeed, John appeared as though he'd quite recovered from whatever initial shock he'd received. He was carefully averting his eyes to the ground, rubbing a fatigued sort of hand across his forehead in much the way a parent might as opposed to a mortified friend.

Regina, clearly taken aback by his lack of reaction, did not seem to know how to respond any more than Robin did, frowning at John while Robin decided to take a less concerned approach and pressed a kiss to her temple instead.

John was silent for several more seconds before saying at last, "I'm confused about which part was supposed to be the secret." He glanced up at them with a rather impassive expression. "The part where you two are together, or the part where Your Majesty likes to pull one over the Princess and be a cat from time to time?"

Regina stiffened, looking an odd combination of indignant and chastised.

"I'm happy for you both, really," said John, "but we could have done this another time, it's getting cold out. I'd head on back if I were you two."

Robin was diligently holding in his laughter, though he let a chuckle slip when he bussed another kiss over her cheek and felt her gaze narrow like he was the one to be blamed for all this.

"You heard the man," he teased her. "Shall I carry you back, then, since you've refused to put your clothes back on?"

"We could also not have that particular conversation again, thank you," said John, making a face as he shielded them both from view once more.

Regina had softened considerably, half-turning back into Robin's embrace and sighing a little when he ran a soothing hand up and down her side. "Feel better?" he asked her.

She stole a glance back at John, who was busy doing his best stargazing impression, and then, almost shyly, she tilted up onto her bare toes and kissed the corner of Robin's mouth. "We should get going," she said. "Take me home?"

"I thought you'd never ask," sighed John in a theatrical show of relief, and Robin rolled his eyes good-naturedly at him before adjusting his hold on Regina.

As the cloud of her magic began its slow whorl, she regarded John one last time, looking as though she would quite like to say something else. But he saved her the trouble, winking most conspiratorially, "Give my regards to Her Majesty, should you happen to see her," and Robin thought with a smile that he'd never seen a cat so content, purring warmly all the way back to her castle.